Historia, Part XXIII

Personification is that attribution of human qualities to an inanimate object, roughly translated. English majors, especially those focused on poetry will tell you that the concept of personification cannot really be encapsulated in one sentence, and then they will go on to tell you all about personification and provide you with examples from every major literary period.

But in this case, just know that personification is the attribution of human qualities to an inanimate object. Therefore, the mere existence of doctor Sora Thii is reverse, or anti-, personification. She took on the qualities of an inanimate object, the city of Historia itself. Clifford would later learn that Sora Thii had been a real doctor. She was raised by her father after her mother had died in childbirth. Her father was strict military and he’d raised her to be as loyal as anyone to Historia.

She spent so much time around the military that she enlisted as a medic during one of the wars. No one really knows how she came to take on the attributes of the city, but she did. And as Historia faltered and failed, so did her body, until it became the thing that Clifford Jenkins killed.

Schrodinger had watched the entire conflict. There was no secret mission, and Slagthor was gone to scout out their next position. Everything Sora Thii had said to Clifford was a lie. And Clifford Jenkins was very good with guns.

“What do you mean, she didn’t love Father Time?” Clifford blurted, “If she’s the embodiment of Historia then she should basically worship him, shouldn’t she?”

Schrodinger leaned back on Clifford’s pillow, “Why? Ever since this current Father Time took power this city has crumbled. War has been everywhere, and it seems to have no end. That’s part of the reason why you’re here.”

“To replace Father Time, end the war, yada yada. I’m still trying to figure out how I live in a History book.”

The mouse sighed, “I really wish I could tell you, Clifford. But you know that I can’t. Now, why were you planning to go ahead? According to you I would’ve understood.”

Clifford limped over to the broken wall and sat down, “In my dreams I kept going to the pyramid alone. I think that I have to do just that. I’m sorry, but that’s why I came here. I realized it in my sleep. I left Nostalgia an came all this way, suffered what I suffered, lost you, lost Jamie, all so that I could go to that pyramid alone. I doubt the resistance will be too daunting. The statue toppled, the cannon exploded, and the top of the pyramid burned. I think I’ll be able to get in rather easily.”

Schrodinger rolled a bit to each side, wallowing out a deeper spot in the pillow, “You really think that you’ll be able to waltz into the pyramid without us? If it hadn’t been for us you wouldn’t have gotten this far. Honestly, Clifford, if I hadn’t led the way and Slagthor commanded his fellow cats to attack all who stood in our way...”

“Then I would never have gotten shot and I probably would’ve found my own way,” Clifford leaned forward, “I dreamed about that too. If I hadn’t met up with you after Jamie was killed I would’ve followed the streets to the pyramid, avoided the soldiers, and made it perfectly safely.”

Schrodinger stood up suddenly, “We’re both just conjecturing at this point. You and I both know that conjecturing does nothing but waste time. I’ve tried to protect you so far, Clifford Jenkins. From the moment we entered the King’s Valley I’ve been doing all I could to steer you in the right path.”

“And yet,” Clifford interjected, “when I lost you in Lithe I made it the rest of the way in relative safety and with a fair amount of haste. I probably could’ve done so without Jamie’s help.”

“Once again, conjecture.”

Clifford exhaled, frustrated, “Look, I just need to go on, okay? I shouldn’t have to explain myself.”

Schrodinger nodded, “Absolutely. Go on, then.”

Clifford just stared at him, “What?”

“Go. You’re set on it, I can tell.”

There was a moment, it felt to Clifford like years, that lasted only a few seconds, in which silence reigned over the courtyard of the sentry station. Clifford stared at Schrodinger, who returned the stare with equal, if not more fierce, intensity.

Then Clifford spoke, “I can’t do that.”

Schrodinger grinned, “I knew it. You need us.”

Clifford shook his head, “No, I don’t need you, Schrodinger. I haven’t needed you since Lithe.”

The mouse was, for the first time (Clifford noted it for the first time, and he was pretty sure that it indeed was the first time) confused. He looked down for a moment, then back up at Clifford, “I don’t understand.”

Clifford pointed to the shelf behind the cot, the place Schrodinger had watched the ordeal with Sora Thii from, “That book up there, the one you told me not to open...”

“Yeah?”

“I want to see how it ends.”