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Speaker 1: The

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Speaker 1: Eighth Self.

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Speaker 1: Chapter Three: Riditaru, Soul Burden.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla sat beside her body for most
of the day. The Terrentian had simply set her

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Speaker 1: in the street. Fortunately, they'd
been kind enough to set her beneath the overhang

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Speaker 1: propped against the wall. It had
taken her three hours to admit that graciousness
as

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Speaker 1: she watched the broiling sunlight
creep across the ground. It would have been no

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Speaker 1: trouble to throw her flat on her face
in the dirt, to cook all day in the heat.

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Speaker 1: People passed by her in the morning,
but either didn't recognize her or assumed that

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Speaker 1: she'd been doing dream leaf. She
hadn't. Not lately, anyway.

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Speaker 1: At last, some servants recognized
her. They pulled her unconscious body,
ironically,

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Speaker 1: right back to the same clinic she'd
been thrown out of that morning. She was put up

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Speaker 1: in a bed across from her father. Two
medical servants, both women with bright yellow

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Speaker 1: hair with little flecks of green,
they took her vitals once, then casually probed

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Speaker 1: her with yellow. She looked almost
bored as she sifted through Catrilla's

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Speaker 1: unconscious basic needs. Then she
stopped, and a slow smile spread across

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Speaker 1: her face. She walked over to her
friend and whispered something in her ear. When
she

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Speaker 1: came back, she checked Catrilla's
eyelids to see if she was awake, then probed her

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Speaker 1: again with yellow, much harder. Keep
your minds to yourselves, ladies.

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Speaker 1: She didn't know what needs yellow
would reveal to her. It could be anything from
the

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Speaker 1: need to go to the bathroom to the
need to leave your spouse, or even the

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Speaker 1: need to feel special to your father
who never had time for you because he dedicated

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Speaker 1: his entire day and entire life to
helping everyone but you. Hopefully,

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Speaker 1: it wouldn't be that one. The second
servant giggled, and they walked out of the room

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Speaker 1: together. That giggle worried her. If
she'd been awake, she could have tapped her

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Speaker 1: own yellow to block it. Of course, if
she'd been awake, they wouldn't have gone

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Speaker 1: prying like that. Catrilla walked
around the servant's hovel, waving her arms in

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Speaker 1: front of people. Nobody seemed to
notice her, and yet she wasn't able to walk

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Speaker 1: through doors. So she had to wait for
people to open doors so she could slip past

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Speaker 1: them.

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Speaker 1: Eventually, when she wasn't sure what
else to do, she returned to the clinic where

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Speaker 1: her body was. Catrilla walked up to
her real body and put an arm to her chest.

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Speaker 1: The ghostly arm stuck there, pinning
her awkwardly in place. So, with nothing else

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Speaker 1: to do, she pushed as hard as her body
would let her push. It began pulling her in,

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Speaker 1: slowly, incredibly slowly. So she
stood there,

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Speaker 1: half in, half out of her real body,
as her father looked up from his meal.

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Speaker 1: I'll bet you feel pretty stupid,
sitting in the corner, outside

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Speaker 1: your body.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla was pretty sure he couldn't
see her. But then he started popping

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Speaker 1: his knuckles in the specific way that
she always hated. Come on,

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Speaker 1: stupid body, let me in. But it
wouldn't let her in any faster. Your

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Speaker 1: nurses told me I don't spend enough
time with you. She knew it.

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Speaker 1: That was a mid-grade secret at best,
though. They hadn't gotten the really good

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Speaker 1: stuff. And that you were very
unfulfilled,

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Speaker 1: romantically speaking.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla felt her face flush,
actually felt it, but was still unable to move

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Speaker 1: her body. The last parts of her
spirit were still sagging back into place.

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Speaker 1: Or, well, not romantically, exactly.
The other thing.

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Speaker 1: You know what I mean.

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Speaker 1: She wanted to be anywhere but here.
She'd rather stay a ghost. At least then she

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Speaker 1: could run away. Your mother and I
were very fulfilled,

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Speaker 1: if you know what I'm saying. Why
hadn't the Terrentians just killed her? Yes,
that

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Speaker 1: would have been better.

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Speaker 1: Nurse. It took all of her energy just
to muster that

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Speaker 1: pitiful groan. Oh, the things she
would have given to be able to tap orange then.

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Speaker 1: I think the act itself was more
energetic because we couldn't marry.

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Speaker 1: It's hard to explain, Cat. There was
something ephemeral about our time together on

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Speaker 1: those nights. She would have killed
to be able to tap orange then.

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Speaker 1: I thought you loved me. Tiongo
pressed his hands together and

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Speaker 1: smiled. And she returns to the world
of the living at last.

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Speaker 1: You shouldn't get on Trevor's bad
side like that. It isn't good for your health.

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Speaker 1: You're friends with them? Of course I
am. Of course I am.

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Speaker 1: I can ask them to do stuff, can't I?
Seriously.

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Speaker 1: I

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Speaker 1: I seek to understand every potential
ally, every

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Speaker 1: potential threat. Do you really hold
so much hate in your heart for a

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Speaker 1: stranger? Tiongo rubbed at his neck.
It wasn't that she hated

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Speaker 1: individual Torinshins, except now
Trevor and Rhea. She

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Speaker 1: definitely hated them. It was more
that she hated the disease their distant

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Speaker 1: neighbors had brought with them. A
disease of change, a death of tradition,

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Speaker 1: a kind of invasion that never drew
blood but killed a people all the same.

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Speaker 1: And she hated being powerless to stop
it. I only hate the ones who

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Speaker 1: use evil magic on me. Tiongo laughed,
then winced,

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Speaker 1: and then laughed a little softer. You
needed a timeout. What

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Speaker 1: had exactly happened to her?
Apparently her father knew something about the

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Speaker 1: Torinshin magic. It was weaker than
reflection potential. Everyone said

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Speaker 1: that. And it was much more rare than
magic was in Katala. But her father

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Speaker 1: was right about that much. If she
wanted to drive the Torinshins out, she would
need

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Speaker 1: to understand her enemy. She found
the rage she'd been holding trickle out of her.

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Speaker 1: Then she felt warmth drip down her
face. I'm sorry,

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Speaker 1: Father.

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Speaker 1: Katrilla was too weak to lift the arm
to mop up the tears. She just let them

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Speaker 1: run down her face. I'm sorry I failed
to

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Speaker 1: save you. No. No more talk of that.
It is your

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Speaker 1: own obsession to Red that makes you
say that. You hold unreasonable standards

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Speaker 1: for yourself.

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Speaker 1: Who do you think I got that from? He
returned a genuinely warm smile

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Speaker 1: at that.

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Speaker 1: Not your mother. Katrilla smiled back
and the weight of guilt finally lifted from

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Speaker 1: her. At least the two of them could
go back to the way things used to be.

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Speaker 1: It was a lot of work caring for her
father, but it had become familiar over the

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Speaker 1: years. As much as she complained, it
was kind of a bedrock of purpose in her life.

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Speaker 1: Kat, I've been meaning to tell you
this, even before the attack.

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Speaker 1: You're fired. Katrilla laughed
loudly. Huh, and who

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Speaker 1: will feed you, wash your clothes,
keep your schedule? I suppose

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Speaker 1: I will have to learn. Should have
learned a decade ago, but You

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Speaker 1: just didn't want to do it. It wasn't
that. Well, it wasn't only that.

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Speaker 1: I see now that it was selfish to
steal your youth just to keep you close, so

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Speaker 1: you're fired. Go enjoy real freedom.
Katrilla snorted.

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Speaker 1: Was he serious? How long would this
last? A day? Maybe two? It would last until he

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Speaker 1: realized how hard it was simply to
haul water from the fountains each day. You

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Speaker 1: didn't pay me anyway. Her father,
doing his own laundry. Now that was funny.

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Speaker 1: She slipped out of bed and tested her
legs. They felt heavy and uncoordinated, but

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Speaker 1: functional and getting better by the
moment. So she hobbled out of the servant's

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Speaker 1: hovel to enjoy her day off. The first
in over a decade.

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Speaker 1: Chapter 4. Tel Ta. Home Protector.

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Speaker 1: Katrilla went about twenty feet down
the street before she realized she had no idea

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Speaker 1: what to do with free time.

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Speaker 1: She opened up her coin purse. There
was more purse than coin there.

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Speaker 1: I need a job.

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Speaker 1: But Tiongo wasn't actually serious.
He wouldn't make it a week on his own, so what

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Speaker 1: was the point in starting a job that
she'd quit immediately?

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Speaker 1: So, lacking any direction, she simply
walked the streets of Irunto. The streets were

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Speaker 1: crowded that morning. She noticed
that, though they were crowded, they weren't
busy.

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Speaker 1: People leaned and sat against the
walls of public buildings. Tired eyes, downcast

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Speaker 1: faces. Fortunately, they didn't go
hungry. Irunto hadn't sunk so far as to deny

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Speaker 1: food to those without it. A person
had a right to eat. As she walked towards the

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Speaker 1: district center, she realized that
these people must be waiting in a line. There

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Speaker 1: must have been hundreds of people in
the line. Katrilla stopped to talk to a

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Speaker 1: bored-looking man near the front of
the line. What are you here for? Tel Ta

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Speaker 1: signups today. Line starts back
there. He pointed in the direction she'd come
from.

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Speaker 1: Why are you signing up? The man
scowled at her, obviously wondering why she had

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Speaker 1: singled him out for questioning.
Because it pays. That's it? He

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Speaker 1: looked at her like she was insane,
then deliberately turned away to face the wall.

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Speaker 1: So she talked to the next person in
line. And you? You're enlisting just for money?

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Speaker 1: The woman nodded. Most of the people
in line only had flecks of color in their hair

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Speaker 1: and on their fingernails. Either this
group of people hadn't been making time for

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Speaker 1: reflection, or they were
disproportionately from the small portion of
society who

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Speaker 1: could not store much potential.
Still, the six selves provided more than magical

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Speaker 1: ability. They directed your personal
growth. How else would you know how to improve

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Speaker 1: without reflecting? Come up with
advice on your own? That didn't even make sense.

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Speaker 1: How in the world did a person advise
themselves? Reflection was the very basis of

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Speaker 1: Catullan society. "Ah, a talented
practitioner. Are you signing up

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Speaker 1: for the Tel-Tar today?" Catrilla
turned to see a woman with a writing board
standing

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Speaker 1: next to her. The man she'd spoken to
earlier stepped between them. "She's not in

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Speaker 1: line." "Maybe not, but by the looks
of it, she could throw you through this wall."

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Speaker 1: The man looked at Catrilla, then
stepped back in line, fuming silently.

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Speaker 1: "Well, are you signing up?" "No, I'm
just going for a walk."

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Speaker 1: "Only takes a day to do the tryouts,
and we pay anyone who makes it past the first

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Speaker 1: round." "I'm busy." She started to
walk off. The woman turned back

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Speaker 1: to her writing tablet. "Shame. No
shortage of people who'd like to throw the

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Speaker 1: servant prime's daughter in a bout."
Catrilla stopped walking. "What did you

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Speaker 1: say?" "There's a lot of people who
would love to fight you." Catrilla looked

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Speaker 1: up and down the line of people. They
seemed exceptionally undedicated, both

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Speaker 1: in terms of physical fitness and
dedication to reflection. "No, not these

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Speaker 1: people. At the end of tryouts, the
regular Tel-Tar fight the recruits in bouts to

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Speaker 1: determine the enlistment offers."
Catrilla looked up at the sky. It was only

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Speaker 1: mid-morning, but the heat of the day
already felt hot enough to cook by. Teongo

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Speaker 1: would be well taken care of at the
clinic. She could spare the time.

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Speaker 1: "Do you serve lunch?" The recruiter
laughed. "I'll make an exception for

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Speaker 1: you if you let me introduce you to my
captain." "Sure." It had been

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Speaker 1: a few days since she'd sparred.
Besides, it would feel good to knock down a

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Speaker 1: few big egos.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla grabbed the other woman by
the arm, then tapped red to stiffen her lower

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Speaker 1: body. Using her hip as a lever, she
threw the woman to the mat. Then she dropped to

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Speaker 1: the mat with the woman and stiffened
her arm and shoulders to stone, pressing her

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Speaker 1: forearm to her throat. "Yield. I
yield." The woman slapped the ground

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Speaker 1: with one open hand. "Recruit
sixty-four wins." Catrilla tried to

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Speaker 1: help her up, but the woman refused
help and stormed off. Some people were like
that.

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Speaker 1: Sometimes it was hard not to take a
defeat in the ring personally. There was a small

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Speaker 1: crowd of people watching the sparring
matches. People lacking in orange were often

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Speaker 1: sent to places like this to study.
These people didn't have the look of martial
arts

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Speaker 1: students, though. They looked like
Tel-Tar regulars sizing up their potential new

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Speaker 1: recruits. Catrilla stepped off the
padded square and onto the dirt streets. The

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Speaker 1: recruiter who had signed her up for
the day's events beamed. She introduced herself

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Speaker 1: as Maya. "That's four in a row. Make
sure you write Fotu

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Speaker 1: Squad as your first choice." A thin
man with mostly bright blue dreadlocks was

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Speaker 1: standing beside her. He had an
enormous amount of blue. Not the most she'd ever

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Speaker 1: seen, but it was impressive. This was
Fotu Squad's scout, Iltan.

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Speaker 1: "That's us." "I'm not joining the
Tel-Tar. I told you."

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Speaker 1: "Sure. Okay. It's not like we do any
actual fighting. It's more like a, a club."

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Speaker 1: "It's not like a club, Iltan. We're
militia. Ignore him.

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Speaker 1: It is an honor to serve with the
Tel-Tar." Catrilla nodded eagerly. Even though

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Speaker 1: she wasn't a servant, what she said
would have an impact on her father's reputation.

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Speaker 1: His reputation, in turn, was
connected to all of White Leaf District's
reputation.

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Speaker 1: If their servant prime's daughter
didn't honor traditions as old as the Tel-Tar,

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Speaker 1: then surely White Leaf District was
falling apart. Then again, if her father was

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Speaker 1: currently making friends with the
Torinxians, how much damage control could she

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Speaker 1: really do to his reputation? "I have
to go. I have

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Speaker 1: other duties." "Don't go. One more
match. This one is with a regular.

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Speaker 1: The captain himself is going to fight
you." Catrilla rolled her eyes. It's not like

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Speaker 1: she actually had anything to do.
"Fine. One more, but only because you're paying

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Speaker 1: me." "Paying you?" Maya hit Iltan
with her writing board.

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Speaker 1: "Hush, you." "Wait a minute. You're
not paying me?" Maya

185
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Speaker 1: hit Iltan a second time. She tried
for a third time, but he tapped blue and easily

186
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Speaker 1: caught the writing board and pulled
it away from her, laughing. This was an ox pile

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Speaker 1: if she'd ever seen one. They weren't
paying her? Sure, she'd won, but

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Speaker 1: she was going to have bruises for a
week. Catrilla was no warrior, but these people

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Speaker 1: were inexperienced and had little to
no potential stored at all. All four opponents

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Speaker 1: had fought viciously, however. The
warriors Catrilla sparred with always pulled

191
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Speaker 1: their blows, and both fighters left
with an understanding that it could have gone

192
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Speaker 1: much worse. They never actually hit
each other with full force. Outside of the rare

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Speaker 1: prize tournaments, anyway. The
purpose of a sparring match was to prove who was

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Speaker 1: better, not cripple each other.
Training that crippled you was worse than
pointless.

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Speaker 1: Catrilla watched her last combatant
limp away, and to her disbelief, get right back

196
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Speaker 1: in line. "Do the same people try to
enlist every

197
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Speaker 1: week, Maya?" Every week? More like
every day.

198
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Speaker 1: We take turns doing the recruitment,
but yes, it's the same people each day.

199
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Speaker 1: Sad, really, yes. Most of them will
never make it. The squad captains don't even

200
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Speaker 1: show up anymore till the end. So that
was why they'd picked her out of the

201
00:18:35.980 --> 00:18:41.760
Speaker 1: line. She was the first new face
they'd seen in a long time. That and

202
00:18:41.820 --> 00:18:47.060
Speaker 1: her hair and fingernails marked her
as someone talented in reflection. Why do they

203
00:18:47.160 --> 00:18:53.000
Speaker 1: try so hard? It didn't make any
sense. Iltan and Maya looked at each

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00:18:53.080 --> 00:18:58.120
Speaker 1: other, hesitation and confusion
written on their faces. Because they're poor.

205
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Speaker 1: Maya nodded.

206
00:19:01.780 --> 00:19:06.840
Speaker 1: White Leaf provides for the poor. Why
come here every day just to get beat up?

207
00:19:09.120 --> 00:19:14.160
Speaker 1: The chance to get beat up. Most of
the time they just wait in line to be sent away

208
00:19:14.220 --> 00:19:19.399
Speaker 1: again. Iltan is right, but there's
more to it than that.

209
00:19:20.140 --> 00:19:26.140
Speaker 1: These people are impoverished in
other ways. The Tel'ta is a very honorable

210
00:19:26.360 --> 00:19:31.500
Speaker 1: path for those who don't want to
swear the oaths of servitude.

211
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Speaker 1: Even if you feed someone, give them a
place to sleep and clothes to wear, they

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00:19:38.220 --> 00:19:40.580
Speaker 1: are still impoverished of purpose.

213
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Speaker 1: People need a reason to live.
Catrilla watched the hundreds of people

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Speaker 1: idling in line. A small fraction of
White Leaf's people. Her people.

215
00:19:54.360 --> 00:20:00.220
Speaker 1: But they told of a problem she hadn't
known existed. This was not a problem caused

216
00:20:00.280 --> 00:20:05.720
Speaker 1: by the Torinshans. It was the system
working as intended, and still people

217
00:20:05.780 --> 00:20:11.180
Speaker 1: despaired. A new fear turned in her
guts. She could do everything

218
00:20:11.260 --> 00:20:16.280
Speaker 1: right and still fail. How did you
give someone a purpose?

219
00:20:17.480 --> 00:20:22.200
Speaker 1: Catrilla frowned and walked away from
the Tel'ta recruiters toward the public

220
00:20:22.260 --> 00:20:28.200
Speaker 1: reflection rooms. Another worry
nagged at her. What if her father really didn't

221
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Speaker 1: need her? What if she was cast out?
What then

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Speaker 1: was her purpose?