Nothing to Lose

Devon Shih

A long time ago, I lost what felt like everything. A drunk, ruined man broke into our house and crumbled the entire building. My dad shielded us from the falling roof as my mom barely got us out into the yard. No adults survived the scene. The men were crushed in the rubble, and although my mom was rushed off to a hospital for her injuries, she died before she got there.

After my sister and I started living with our grandmother, I began to comb through the local library. At first, I wanted to know everything about the man that killed my parents, perhaps to unleash some sort of revenge, but I never did find anything. Grandma talked me out of my foolish thoughts, and I stopped looking. I didn't stop reading, though.

Countless more hours of digging through books brought me an encounter with an essential question: I wanted to know how the man had collapsed an entire building. He didn't have so much as a hatchet the night he did it. That question led me to books on the endowments. Written records of lectures from famous grandmasters taught me everything about the endowing arts.

And then, I came across an old diary.

It was around the same time we lost my sister to sickness, so I read the diary extensively. It kept me busy. From its pages, I learned of many medicinal herbs, animals of interest and philosophy on all things regarding the soul. But there was one section that I constantly revisited; it was about an ancient way of sensing — of endowing arts — and if someone should learn to control the power, they could theoretically crumble a building with nothing but their practiced soul.

The power was once only for people who had nothing to lose; people who were so broken, they were ready for any consequence — so they wreaked havoc. These people felt nothing, metaphorically and literally, since all seven endowments needed to be completely depleted in order to perform it.

Touch, Taste, Sight, Sound, Smell, Movement and Breath. Made up of the five senses and life-essentials Movement and Breath, those were the seven, manipulatable, endowments.

For a while, I was obsessed with it all — the diary, the endowments, the power; I began teaching myself to manipulate my own endowments, and I even learned to perform even the strongest techniques. Drunk with power, I moved a boulder and killed a deer in the forest. I had done it for my grandma; I thought it would help.

It was her who saved me from becoming a monster again.

When I brought the deer home, she made me carry it back into the forest. Back to the place it belonged. Then, she and I gave it a proper farewell. I apologized that day.

I apologized in the silence.

I apologized in the rain.

I apologized for hurting others — for hurting myself.

I apologized to my parents.

I apologized to my sister. Then I apologized to my grandma, who I wish I had thanked instead. Years later, the next time I would perform any endowing arts, I was in the forest again. I used the destructive power to protect a creature that needed me. The day began cold with the crisp air gnawing at my dirt-ridden toes. I found my jacket sprawled over my body and I remembered where I was. Quietly, I rose. The

Graphic by April Wu

sky was hidden behind a garden of fixed clouds, so time was kept a secret. Judging by the pale, winter complexion, though, it was easy to guess that it would soon rain.

Tied to my leg with fibers I picked was a diary, but I had no intention to read through its pages.

After a few hours, my prediction proved true, and the thick canopy I rested beneath shielded me from the developing drizzle.

And with the rain, came company.

At first, a family of skyworn deer found their way into the dwelling. I welcomed them with some berries I found over the previous day. “Hello,” I said to them as they nibbled on the berries. “I promise I mean no harm.”

The family stared at me curiously, then claimed a spot at the other side of the canopy. The youngest fawn waddled after her mother and siblings.

The legend goes that skyworn deer once bore wings; they journeyed the skies with a grace that none rivaled, but an envious cloud struck them down to the earth.

I was silent as I recalled their story. They had lost everything — those graceful wings — and I knew the feeling.

As time passed, more and more creatures arrived, seeking shelter.

“Your feathers are very beautiful,” I told one of the lantern owls. “I wish you luck hunting in this weather.”

The rain drummed harder against the leaves until the dim silence became a constant rustle like shifting sand. That's why I could only barely hear the howl as it vibrated the forest floor.

It was a cry—one from a mere pup.

A pack of withersmoke wolves rose at the sound of their companion's calling; I watched as the den emptied of them, relaxing the frightened critters.

“I'll be right back,” I told the other animals, and chased after them.

The withersmoke wolves soared across the mountainside with a pace they were known for, but I managed to tail them by dulling my endowment of Touch, no longer able to feel the rain on my skin, and enhancing my Movement for speed. Then I nulled my Taste as well, which I didn't need for the moment, and augmented my Sight, since vision was scarce in the downpour. With the stronger vision, every blade of grass and every droplet hanging to the underbelly of branches fell into focus.

When I arrived on the scene, there was a small pup caught by a ledge with a nasty gash searing with blood. The wolves were working with haste, but all attempts to drag the pup away from danger proved useless. The rain splattered on flora and soggy roots as the situation became more and more dire. The wolves could not reach where the pup lie whimpering.

But I could.

As soon as I realized this myself, the wolves each matched their enigmatic eyes to mine.

Withersmokes were tolerant creatures; they nearly always kept to themselves. Seeing their watchful gazes rooted me into my surroundings, and an idea spawned.

“I can try to help,” I told the wolves, “but I'm not strong enough to carry the pup with these arms of mine.”

I let a feeling deep inside of me