Novel Asheva: A Summoner's Tale - [Book-1 Complete]

Spoiler: Chapter-38 Soul

Chapter-38 Soul

The screams and the salvo of bullets ripped the silence apart, they were near. Ewan stretched his limbs, popped his neck, and got ready to head out; his choice was to fight back. Toast went back into the tattoo and Orange and Frost took their position as vanguards. Though Iris healed most of his wounds, Ewan still lacked blood and didn’t want to use <Blood Rein> yet. So, he picked up the dark-brown tower shield with a chunky layer of ice on the outer surface and moved it around to acquaint his hand with it. It would protect him from the bullets while he commanded his Astylinds, or at least he hoped it would. The ice layer that Frost created was for insurance; in case it couldn’t.

The trio moved away from the bakery and to the stairs. Ewan thudded the one Novas shield before the narrow stair opening, its curved edges keeping it up, and hid behind the wall by the side with Orange and Frost. One after another, the burst of discharge snuffed the screams on the floor below, and some steps came closer when quiet descended. They were moving up and it was more than one person.

A bout of hysterical cackle followed a barrage of bullets. Ewan released a quiet breath and took out his ‘Obsidian Dagger’ as the bullet shower chipped and shredded the ice layer on the shield, pushing it back, the wood scraping the tiled floor with a groan. Ice shards scattered about, some pecked Ewan, most wet the stairs.

The sound of rifles raced in sync. Ewan counted and presumed, also factoring in the sound of steps. There were three people, all firing at the same time. He waited for them to stop, and soon they did. They were now reloading.

Go!

Ewan grabbed the shield with his left hand, dagger in his right, and dove down the stairs. Orange and Frost followed suit.

“Fuck!!” One of the masked men screamed. The other two backed away from Ewan’s path, but he hammered one down to the floor with the shield, using all his strength to crush him under.

Throat!!

Orange blasted towards one of the masked men, the step below him blackened and cracked. The man made no moves, he stood frozen, as his eyes reflected the little monkey and his feral grin. Orange used his explosive Fire-Anima and clobbered his throat.

“Hel…” His neck exploded into blood and gore with the boom ripping half his face apart before his word ended. It painted the walls red with gooey pieces of muscles, bones, and brain sliding down. His lifeless and headless body plopped down as the stench of burnt skin and blood wafted.

While Orange completed his kill, Frost had already hurled and jammed an icicle in the second masked-man’s throat who fumbled and dropped the rifle’s magazine. He gurgled and reached for his neck with trembling hands, his body twitched, and he collapsed. His death was far less gory, but he died, nonetheless. Ewan too stabbed the man he was suppressing, reaching from the side of the shield. But he missed the throat and stabbed his shoulder instead.

The man screamed and wrestled. He heaved the shield up, but Ewan held it down with all his might and then some. He shanked the dagger out and knifed again without aiming. This time it was the side of his chest; it plunged in his lungs.

The masked man gasped for breath, his inhales ending in whistles.

Die already!

Ewan flung the shield aside and pushed the dagger in his throat with a grunt, all his weight behind the stab. Warm blood splattered on his contorted face, some got in his mouth. The taste of iron… His eyes gleamed green for a second but faded away soon. This was not the time to let his instincts run amuck—he reined it in.

The man died and Ewan rolled to the side, heaving for air. He didn’t move much in this fight yet was already out of breath, and his heart pounded. His face was feverish, the ceiling blurred, and his throat parched; it stung when he gulped.

Orange, with not a hint of blood on him, ran to Ewan and hopped on his chest, up and down, screeching.

“Yeah, you did good,” Ewan said with a smile and patted his head, his breath slowing down.

Frost?

He sensed extreme hunger from Frost. The little imp stood beside the corpses, staring at them, his intense emotions flooding Ewan’s senses.

You want to eat them?

Souls, Frost gave a vague reply through their connection. After a moment of thought, Ewan agreed. Frost grabbed at the air above the corpses and stuffed the empty hand in his mouth. Only a few minutes later, after Frost relished and digested it all, Ewan sensed its effects. He grew stronger; he verged on the Level-2 barrier now.

Was it a Demon thing? Orange didn’t react to it, so it should be.

Ewan frowned and mulled; he should change his plans. He wanted to stay on this floor until the mayhem settled down and only fight back when they came for him. Because fighting them didn’t benefit him in any way. But Frost changed things. If he could grow by eating souls, the current situation would become an all-you-can-eat buffet for him. And this was a special case—the law wouldn’t punish Ewan for killing them. It shouldn’t….

“They’re the ones attacking. I’m only defending myself….” he muttered.

The rifles could make it easier for him to fight back; he picked one up and checked. Alas, the biometric lock nulled his idea, he threw it away with a defeated sigh as its plastic stock cracked on the marbled steps. It also killed his budding plan of disguising as one of them in its infancy. The lack of a rifle could give him away, and if he carried one anyway, the red light on the trigger would be his doom.

So, after the body check of the three dead ones didn’t bear fruit, he moved on.

The shield held tight in his left hand, he edged down the stairs to the floor below, his supple joints silencing his movements. His knuckles had turned white, and sweat drenched his hair, rolling down his temples. Orange and Frost were once again the vanguards, they mimicked Ewan and moved without any noise.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Injured | Hypovolemia

Step-0 [2nd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.3

Spirit: 4.0

Anima: [Fire – 4.0 | Ice – 4.0 | Blood – 4.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 70
Sol: 25

 

Spoiler: Chapter-39 Gore [Part I]

Chapter-39 Gore [Part I]

Bullet holes riddled the electronic game units, arcs of current sparking out. Bloodied corpses lay cold on the floor, their bodies shredded apart. Some died from bullets, some from a blade. Their blood and organs painted the floor red; their guts had spilled over. Ewan crouched and threaded, the pool of gore reflecting his aghast face and the gulp down his throat, blood smearing the hem of his cargo with each step. There was a thick smell of metal in the air once again. He should’ve been numb to it by now, but he wasn’t, even his excited bestial instincts couldn’t suppress the dread of death that plunged into him with each heave.

So many died, what were the chances of him surviving… Now that the adrenaline wore off, he faced the reality. The only difference was that they were Kyrons, and he wasn’t.
Right, he wasn’t a Kyron anymore, he was stronger than them, he repeated. Drops of sweat rolled down his temples, he rubbed the itch with his shoulders and took deep breaths.

Orange scouted the path ahead while Frost covered his back. Ewan wished the enemies would come and distract him already. But the floor was haunted quiet besides the frigid bodies who stared at him with their gaping eyes, and they invited him to join them.

…..

Fuck!

Ewan froze in his tracks, resisting a shiver.

Halfway down the stairs to the next floor, a longsword pinned a child to the wall through his bloodied teddy bear, a child who’d barely learned to run… He and his plush toy dangled from the blade, lifeless. The blunt strikes on the pommel had cracked and flattened it; they must’ve hammered the sword through the child’s chest. His eyeballs almost popped out and tears from the ripped socket dried on his cheeks; his mouth lay open, and his tongue hung loose. Thick blood oozed down his shoes on the face of the woman lying below, her throat slit and swollen, and tears and snot smudging her makeup. It must be his mother; she carried a dirt-and-blood smeared cotton candy that used to be white…

If these masked men were trying to scare people, they sure had some effective means. Ewan took deep breaths again and continued down the stairs, avoiding the gaze of the bloodied yet smiling teddy.

The floor below was the inflatable playground for children with bouncy castles. And finally, some enemies to kill. The playgrounds sprawled airless, the bullets and the blades had torn them apart. Three masked men stood with their backs to the stairs. One hacked a corpse with an axe, while the other stood around him, rifles hanging from their shoulders.

“Let’s go already,” one of the three said.

“Wait a bit,” another said as he chopped down the axe again, breathless and panting, each lungful of air grinding in his throat. Blood from the dead body sprayed on his already drenched red mask. The other two stepped back and shook their heads.

Orange and Frost could kill two, but the third was the problem. They were too far and in the open for Ewan to move in close without alerting them. He had no choice, he had to use his spell.

Blood Rein!

It took him several tries, but he succeeded before the three finished their butchery. The obsidian dagger slit his wrist and the spell circuit took the blood away. The crimson blob floated before him, connected to his soul. The dizziness assaulted him again, his vision blurred too, but he was familiar with it now, he could handle the side effects. Iris came out of the vortex and dove into his hair while he aimed at the masked men’s back from the stairs end. She healed his cut and he focused. This spell too didn’t have the targeting mechanism, but it gave him full control.

The blob of blood wriggled. Ewan held his breath and shot three thin sharp vines from it. They slithered close to the floor; the blood vines ran against the blood pools on the ground, it was hard to notice them. The three vines zipped away and lanced the three men through their backs and out their chests. The two groaned and clutched the vines with trembling hands. The axe clanked on the floor, and the third reached for his chest.

Ewan pulled the vines back out, and blood gushed out from their gaping and pulsating wounds. The men collapsed on their knees, gasping for air, hacking, puking blood. The vines slid around them, and as Ewan gestured, skewered their jaws and exited their skulls. They fell over, their chests stopped moving. Blood pooled under them, and they joined the plethora of corpses strewn across the floor.

Ewan exhaled the long-held breath through his mouth. This was easy, far too easy. He stared at the red blob that regained its initial size when the vines came back and merged in. These Kyrons weren’t his match when he could use his spells, even with their contrabands. As they said, he really was a monster for them.

…..

Frost broke through the barrier once he ingested the three new souls; he was now Level-2. While he savored the growth, Orange glared at him from Ewan’s head, pulling and chewing his hair, screeching at times. After Ewan calmed him down with flowery promises for the future, he searched the place inside out, though there were little places on this open floor that could hide anyone. And indeed, corpses and more gory and grisly corpses were all he found. He didn’t avoid them but instead walked closer and met their lifeless eyes. A meaningless act yet he persisted to become numb to these deaths. The dead were powerless, his mind knew it, he wanted his body to know it too.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Injured | Hypovolemia

Step-0 [2nd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.3

Spirit: 4.0

Anima: [Fire – 4.0 | Ice – 4.0 | Blood – 0.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-2] [Grade-D]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 70
Sol: 25

 

Spoiler: Chapter-40 Gore [Part II]

Chapter-40 Gore [Part II]

The next couple of floors were all the same; mauled bodies strewn around; walls painted in blood. Yet no enemies came in sight. On the next floor, the fifth floor, Ewan finally found two masked men. Their masks rested on their heads, and they puffed their cigarettes, sitting on the clean floor by the pillar-turned-beehive with bullets, their victims keeping them company. Their rifles were by their sides, and they chatted and cackled.

Ewan hid behind the wall near the stairs, peeking at these two and panning his eyes around to confirm whether they were the only ones here. The several pillars dividing this floor into areas hindered him though—they hid many sections.

A young female staff of the gaming arcade, in their usual frilled sky-blue sleeveless shirt and mini black skirt uniform, hid under an unused pool table in the corner across Ewan. She’d curled up, hugged her knees, and covered her mouth as she shivered. Concrete dust whitened her long black hair, and she smothered her cough from time to time. When Ewan saw her, she met his eyes too. She mouthed ‘help’ as her tears drenched her already sweaty and pale face, her mascara running down.

Ewan gestured her a ‘wait’ sign and racked his brain. No matter how much he thought about it, only one plan was feasible in this scenario. It was the most efficient plan he could think of. So, he carried it out.

Frost froze a red pebble from the blood around and hurled it towards the hiding woman. It clattered on the floor near her and echoed in the hall. She gasped, her face paled even more, and her eyes widened as she stared at Ewan. The noise alerted the two chatting masked men and drew them in.

Only two?

All the groups he met so far had three people…

One masked man walked out from the other side of a pillar, zipping his fly. They were three now.

“Another one?” the man asked while moving the belt of his trousers around.

“This one’s mine,” one of the smoking men said, grinning and biting the cigarette butt.

“Sure, if it’s a dude.” The other two cackled.

“Fuck off,” he said and crouched by the table. “Hey missy, come out. We won't hurt you.” He blew the smoke to the side and reached for her. The young woman screamed and backed off, but the wall behind blocked her. She rattled her head and pleaded in a mosquito voice.

Frost, take them out.

The timing was good, she’d grabbed their attention. Frost walked out from where they hid and bolted towards the men. By the time they reacted and turned around, they were already in his range. He waved his hand and ice spikes jerked out from the ground. The spikes sieved the three, mangling their bodies. They died with a grunt, their limbs and necks hung lifeless. Blood streamed down the ice spikes, turning them red. Soon the trickling blood drips froze and turned into long red crystals.

The woman screeched and crawled away from the scene. Ewan went to help her up, but she shrieked again and backed away from him.

“No!!” she yelled and bawled.

Ewan frowned and stood back. He didn’t understand what scared her so much. Was it his Astylinds? Was it him killing the men? Or was it because he used her as bait? Even if he did so, he still saved her life. That was the most efficient plan he could think of at that moment; the bait was necessary. He could take the three out with his spells, but it had higher risks and would shorten the precious activation period of his <Blood Rein>. This way, she distracted them while Frost took them out in one strike.

He shook his head and walked away. “Ungrateful bitch,” he muttered. He didn’t want to help her anymore. She would become a burden anyway.

That one act drained Frost of his Anima, so Ewan handed him a small white Anima-Crystal and searched the floor, leaving the woman alone. The blob of blood floated ahead of him; his mind ready to mold it if a threat emerged. Yet only the cold corpses greeted him again. Nothing new on this floor either. It was becoming rather monotonous, so he moved down to the next floor.

…..

Six muzzles belched fireballs as the bombardment of bullets rained down on Ewan’s shield. Sparks crackled all around him, the shield held itself against the attack. The bright display of fire from the six men shooting in a crescent moon formation made for a dazzling and beautiful scene, but Ewan couldn’t appreciate it, being on the receiving end. He didn’t even have the time to check out the floor before these six spotted him coming down the stairs and opened fire. Unlike the first three he met, these six alternated. One fired while the other reloaded, the salvo never stopped. How many fucking bullets they lugged anyway…

Ewan didn’t wait for their ammo to finish; it was too risky. He commanded Frost while preparing his blood blob to finish them off. He couldn’t see his targets from behind the tower shield, so he had to take a roundabout route.

Frost, also hiding behind the shield, touched the ground with pools of blood all around. After a moment, he pushed all his Anima into the spell and chilled the floor. And the blood red pools froze. The ice sprinted from Frost’s hand and fanned out in a circle, cracking and popping. Ewan shivered from the drop in temperature, his heaves steamed.

“What the fuck!!”

“Shit!”

The men yelled and cursed and stopped firing. They twisted and snapped their frozen shoes from the ground and backed off. But they all lost their footing on the slippery surface. Some fired while they thumped on their asses, creating a trail of bullet holes up to the ceiling.

While they groaned and writhed on the floor, Ewan sent several pointy thin vines from his blood blob up to the ceiling and had them zip down at random. The vines plunged, and deathly grunts of men followed. Ewan peeked at the small bamboo forest of red vines ahead and checked whether they were all dead. Two were still alive and wriggling, so he controlled a couple of vines and stabbed them again. Since he could see them, his target was spot on, and the floor fell silent—the remaining two also died.

The continuous firing left Ewan’s ears buzzing, his forearm ached, and his skin had reddened. He snapped his frozen boots off the ground and sat on the side leaning on the wall, massaging his temples and his arm.

Frost enjoyed the buffet of souls; one by one he stuffed them in his mouth. After he digested them all, he once again approached the boundary of the next level, Level-3. Ewan smiled when he sensed it.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Injured | Hypovolemia

Step-0 [2nd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.3

Spirit: 4.0

Anima: [Fire – 4.0 | Ice – 4.0 | Blood – 4.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-2] [Grade-D]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 70
Sol: 25

 

Spoiler: Chapter-41 Ruined Birthday

Chapter-41 Ruined Birthday

The conflict ended with the dimming dusk. Ewan limped out of the game arcade as the reddish-orange sky purpled—the color of an old bruise. His leaden eyelids weighed down, and grime and dried blood marks smeared his face. No law enforcers were in sight, only death was, but his nose had long gone numb to the stench of their blood and gore.

The exploded craters smoked and smelled of rotten eggs, and mutilated charred bodies hilled on the streets. The burnt crisp tree cracked and fell over with a gust of wind, its embers and ashes swirled in the air. The redness of blood paled and faded on the fake snow, barely deigning to reflect the setting sun. The once famous Frosthelm festival was now a blood festival. Only the shredded decoratives remained as a remembrance of the jolly laughs and the cackles of the children.

A young man in a tattered shirt hanging by his shoulders trudged out of the crumbling building on the side, hacking his lungs out. Several of its floors were up in raging flames, it was on the verge of collapse; the deathly creaks of its pillars announced its end. A hare with patches of brown and dark red fur, or was it dried blood, hopped before him, both facing Ewan. He gripped a cleaver, his knuckles turning white, while the hare snarled at Ewan, its ruby eyes reflecting his weary image.

“I’m not an enemy,” Ewan said in a low volume, taking slow breaths through his mouth, his eyes drooping. His aching muscles killed him, his throat was on fire, and his wounds, both bullet and blade bitten, stung. The strenuous and protracted fight had left him sapped, there were just too many of them on the ground floor.

“Proof,” the man said in a hoarse voice, smothering his cough, stepping away from the blazing building.

Ewan sighed and brought Orange out from the rune. The little monkey clawed his way onto his head and snuggled in his hair, whimpering as he rubbed the bleeding bullet wound on his thigh.

Don’t touch it, you’ll make it worse.

Orange cried once and stopped.

The man released a long breath and collapsed on the ground, the hare hopping back and licking his face.

“Have you checked the trams?” Ewan asked.

“No.” The man shook his head, hacking again, retching blobs of blood.

Ewan picked up a piece of cracked wood and crutched his worn-out body to the tracks, minding the splinters. There was no tram there. But if he followed the tracks and got out of this area, he could find one. The end of conflict meant the attackers died. And since there was no intervention from the law enforcers, it must’ve been the Severynths in the area who ended it. Ewan didn’t want to get involved in the mess that would follow soon. So, he chose the direction of his home and trekked along the tracks, leaving the chaos behind.

“Let’s attend the festival, what could possibly go wrong. Motherfuckers! Bitches ruined my birthday,” he muttered amidst the clank of his crutch on the paved pathway. “Couldn’t even eat the fucking cake!” Iris strived to heal his wounds, wrapping her roots around the tiny red Anima Crystal.

This attack put him on yellow alert. There was a threshold in the stages of Ashevas before which they were still vulnerable against Kyrons and their weapons. He now wanted to cross that threshold as soon as possible and have some security inside the walls. Even if the situation of the colony destabilized further, he would have the option to leave the place safely.

…..

The first night of his return brought Nana rushing to his doorsteps again, freaking out over the news of the massacre and his injuries. She had Luna heal him over and over again even when he said he didn’t need it, the repeated usage sapped the poor bird, and she only left when he pushed her out. After so many years, even when life shattered her, she still retained those stubborn cells…

And the fourth dawn delivered Ewan the property deeds and the inheritance Sols; he became rich overnight. But the Kyron currency concerned him no more.

The bright and glossy basement walls mirrored the world inside. Still cold but not frosty, the temperature rose by the day. Greenbirth—the months of life would follow soon. Segregated from the outside world by the mystical door his father had created, he was safe here. From training to breaking through barriers to brewing potions, this place was his retreat.

Frost trained in a corner with snowflakes swirling around him, his arms stretched out to the sides, his eyes closed, his tail bending and swaying. While Orange played tag with Toast, dashing all over the basement, yet sneaked a glare at the little imp from time to time, the orange fire on his forehead flickering.

Ewan had a long list of work he planned to do in the coming days, most of which involved potion brewing. Before he could start with any though, the pestering monkey made him choose his Anima Potion. His intention to battle it out with Frost brimmed and spilled. To save his hair and cheeks, Ewan agreed and procured the needed ingredients—Astylind Core of the relevant element and the blood of the same.

The fire based Aennon solution dissolved the core, and the addition of blood made it boil. The beaker heated up and the orange liquid inside steamed with popping bubbles. This was his fifth trial, and success finally knocked on his door. Even though this potion had the same ingredients as the one he brewed for his ‘Elementalist Physique’, it still took him several attempts to increase his proficiency. The nuance in the use of his spirit and the difference of catalysts and stabilizers made it so.

“Hot! Hot!”

His face crunched in pain. Ewan juggled the searing potion vial between his hands, blowing on it to cool it down, sweat dripping down his nose. Did he make a mistake using a Level-3 Core and blood? It could be too much… He licked the salty sweat on his lips and wondered whether Orange could absorb so much Fire-Anima at once.

To be on the safe side, though, it was better to have Orange consume the potion in two parts. The little monkey jumped and complained when Ewan disturbed his tag game but rushed over with Toast in tow after he told him about the Anima Potion.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [2nd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.3

Spirit: 4.3

Anima: [Fire – 4.3 | Ice – 4.3 | Blood – 4.3]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-D]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 59
Sol: 5025

 

Spoiler: Chapter-42 Ryvia

Chapter-42 Ryvia

Ewan, Frost, Toast, and Iris stood around Orange as he winced on the floor after drinking the first half of the potion. The Fire-Anima raged around him, the air distorted, and scorching wind blasted against the four. Embers flew about, sparks hopped around. Toast clawed his way up on Ewan’s shoulders and snuggled and whimpered as his fur singed, while Iris bundled herself in his hair. Ewan consoled his little kitten and his little lotus and stared at Orange, gulping to wet his throat. Frost remained still and eyed the monkey, ready on Ewan’s orders to help in case something went wrong.

Soon Orange reached the boundary of Level-2 and a few moments later blasted through the layer. The flickering fire on his forehead erupted for a second with ribbons of blue flames reaching twice his height then calmed down and turned back orange. The fiery wind also settled down and the abundant Fire-Anima scattered. Before giving in to the glee of success, Ewan checked Orange from head to toe for any injuries. His pulse raced but remained under normal levels. There were no injuries mentioned in the <Identify> spell either. His connected senses also gave a green light.

Ewan heaved a sigh of relief, crouching on the floor with his head down. Orange opened his eyes and screeched at Frost; the little imp glared back.

“Not yet,” Ewan said and pushed the two apart. The other part of the potion remained.

…..

Ewan toiled for the next week and brewed one potion after another. The experience of each brew nudged his proficiency and increased his success rate. But not before he spent almost all his Novas on the trials. He still had Anima Crystals though, a lot of them, so the spending didn’t worry him much.

Red for blood, white for ice, and brown for wood—he had three types of Anima Crystals. Brown was useless to him while he didn’t need as many reds and whites. Converting all browns and most reds and whites through the hub-connector netted him 296 Novas, an amount that could last him a long while. Sustenance before sourcing the earnings was not a problem with such numbers.

….

‘The higher the soul essence the violent the breakthrough. It’s better to not have your Astylinds around.’ Ewan fiddled with the page while rereading the sentences he’d already read several times. His leveled up and upgraded Astylinds—both Frost and Orange joining the ranks of Iris in Grade-C—trained on their own as he skimmed the journal in the basement corner. The cold wall chilled his back at first then his body warmed the wall.

Third awakening, he had the butterflies when he thought of it. It was the threshold he’d been waiting for. The increased feedback from his Astylinds pushed him to the boundary, 4.9, now only a thin layer stopped him from moving forward. Only the ‘violent breakthrough’ part in the journal worried him. Nonetheless he had to cross the bridge, there was no other way around.

After a long deep breath, he put the journal back in the claw-ring, his Astylinds went inside the runes, and he sat in the middle of the basement. Cross-legged and his eyes closed, his palms stacked at his navel, he focused on his soul space. ‘Spirit like ripples’, once again he plucked the pool of spirit, creating waves after waves. The pool surged and roared; the oscillations rampaged in his soul space.

The barrier crumbled under the constant barrage, it tore the layer down, and his spirit thrashed around before calming down. Yet, it was only the quiet before the storm. He’d completed his third awakening, but he didn’t dare relax. The violent part had yet to happen. With the intense sweet smell and the feeling of liberation came the initiation of the new innate skill, Ryvia—the spirit interference.

Ewan bloated. His spirit ran amuck throughout his body. It expanded, tearing his skin and muscles from inside. His body tingled, and the itch just wouldn’t go away, not that he had the leeway to scratch them. Ryvia would extend his spirit outside his body, so he had to tolerate the pain if he were to advance. He groaned and gritted his teeth. The agony had him moaning and chuckling at times. The tickling sweat drops rolling down his temples and cheeks snatched his attention and irritated him. But he bore through it all.

A thread of spirit finally popped out his forehead. It busted the dam and his spirit exploded away.

He growled and floated up in the air, his invisible spirit hurled the table away and it shattered at the wall. His pain toned down, and the sharp buzz muffled the world. Ewan looked down; he was hovering several feet above the floor. Some dispensable Potioneering tools he’d left on the table drifted around him, crunching, chipping, cracking, and snapping as his spirit distorted them, gravity giving them free rein.

This was Ryvia, the watershed that separated him from the Kyrons, and he crossed it.

The initial outburst kept him floating for a minute then eased him down. His eyelids were heavy, his limbs felt weak, the breakthrough and the initiation of the skill emptied him. The unending stairs to the surface then the prolonged path to the bedroom—the everyday distance had never looked this impervious before. He had no one who would scold him for where he slept anyway, so he took out a thick quilt from his claw-ring and lay where he stood, drifting off to the world of dreams. Only the echoes of his soft wheezes meandered in the basement.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 5.2

Anima: [Fire – 5.2 | Ice – 5.2 | Blood – 5.2]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 319
Sol: 4999

 

Spoiler: Chapter-43 Spells

Chapter-43 Spells

Ice Daggers!

The razor-sharp ice dagger floated before Ewan, its spell circuit empowering his Ryvia. He shot it at the wall but braked before they kissed. The dagger hovered on his command and snaked back to him, circling around. He repeated the process, once, twice, thrice, until it became his muscle memory. The dagger zipped around the basement at his will, getting faster and swifter as he became well versed in it.

The constant use of Ryvia strained him, even with the spell’s enforcement. His face flushed red; his neck tightened and quivered; his veins bulged on his forehead. He was at his limit, so the ice dagger followed the last route and shattered against the wall.

Ewan collapsed on the floor, panting when his eventual heave broke the dam. Frost and Orange both raced to him from where they were training, or supposed to be, and handed him a chilled bottle of water, glaring at each other. He accepted both bottles and gulped them together, most spilled out and wetted his already sweat-drenched t-shirt. He’d rather do this than deal with a sulking Frost or a hair-pulling Orange.

The moment they were at the same level, their fight had begun again, Ewan was helpless. And Toast meowed from the side.

Little fucker…

He could feel the little kitten’s amusement at his plight, so he poured water over him. Toast sprung back, screeching, then bit his t-shirt, wrestling to tear it. His growls were tiny purrs, childlike, and it made Ewan smile.

“Only Iris is a good girl.”

The little lotus bud bunking on the books swayed, left and right and left, her glee passing through to Ewan. It annoyed the other three though, and they jumped on him together.

…..

Hub-Stratum.

Ewan wandered the crammed night streets of the hub as a spirit blob, a bigger-than-before spirit blob, window shopping, panning his eyes. He looked down on the smaller spirit blobs at times while giving way for the larger ones, especially the humanoids. His target was a shop selling spells, it was one of the cheapest and the nearest. He wanted to buy a spell that would complement his <Transmute> spell. It was better to prepare early.

His grown spirit supported his stroll, and he reached the intended shop with ease. The navigation ended there.

“Hello, anyone in?” he asked. The shop was empty except for the counter bar, it didn’t even have an automated worker. The black swirls on the white walls and the ceiling attracted him though. His own shop could use such designs.

“Just a second,” someone said. A tiny black blob rose from behind the counter a few seconds later. It was almost the size of Ewan’s spirit blob when he first came to the hub.

“’Lens’ spell, how much is it?” Ewan asked.

“That’s…uh…ten…Novas?” the blob said…or asked.

“Too expensive,” Ewan said. “Make it two.”

“I…I…Its too low…,” he said in a mosquito voice. “At least five.”

“Three, and I’ll buy something else from you.”

The spirit blob hovered behind the counter; the shop fell quiet. “Fine,” he finally said. “What do you want to buy?”

“Show me your fire spells,” Ewan said.

“Wait a few.” The blob hovered down again, searching, the items clattered about.

“How’d you manage a shop like this? How long can you stay connected anyway?” Ewan asked, floating around the shop, admiring the artistic designs.

“I try to be here as much as I can.” The muffled voice came from behind the counter. “I only disconnect and rest when I can't hold on.”

“Why not buy a worker?”

“Can't, they cost too much.”

Ewan hummed in response. “So, you have an inheritance?” he asked.

The blob flinched, and the items stopped moving with a burst of final clatter. The shop fell silent once more.

“Sorry, not trying to pry or anything, just curious. You’re still too weak to be selling these stuffs.”

“My…mother. I…inherited from her,” the spirit blob said and resumed his search.

“You have a good mother then, cherish her,” Ewan said.

“Not really…,” the blob said under his breath. He brought out a few pages with different spells’ summaries and spread them on the counter. “Here you go.”

“I’m Ewan, what’s yours?” Ewan checked the pages one by one.

“…Avis,” the blob said.

Ewan froze on the reply, for it was a girl’s name, at least Obria treated it as such.

“My mother named me; she wanted a girl….” His voice dimmed down again.

Ewan refrained from commenting and focused on the spells. Fireball, Bullets, Fireflies, Ignite. And the last one was ‘Boom’…

“It’s a good spell, don’t mind the name,” Avis said.

Ewan skimmed the summaries—Fireball and Bullets were simple projectile spell, quality versus quantity; Fireflies was a ranged and reactive area-of-effect spell with good tactical value; Ignite was a close-range utility spell, unfit for combat; and ‘Boom’ was a special spell whose damage depended on the material used.

“Is this all you have?” Ewan asked.

“You need something specific?” Avis asked.

“Not really, no. How much?”

“Uh…six…each?”

“I’ll give you five for Fireflies and ‘Boom’, and four for Fireball. Deal?” Ewan said.

The blob flickered without a word.

“You probably don’t have much time. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Avis said, his spirit blob faded a bit. “Here.” He passed over the virtual contract that Airadia’s sentience and the ‘Ashevagord’ authorized.

“One year? No way. I don’t intend to sell your spells anyway but one year is a lot, brother. Make it three months,” Ewan said.

“…Six, that’s the lowest I can go.”

Ewan agreed after mulling for a second. He stamped the modified contract with his identity in the hub, his Pa’s actually, and received the copies of the spells after payment—seventeen Novas for four spells.

“I’ll come again if I need something. You go back and rest now,” Ewan said and left the shop.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 5.5

Anima: [Fire – 5.5 | Ice – 5.5 | Blood – 5.5]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 302
Sol: 4997

 

Spoiler: Chapter-44 Boom

Chapter-44 Boom

His Ryvia stretched to its limit around him, it fed back his perception. Ewan could see, hear, smell, and feel everything that happened in the zone.

Again.

Orange jumped into his spirit’s range as his other Astylinds watched from the side. Ewan sensed his landing position and compressed the air with his Ryvia, fashioning an invisible platform that hovered above the ground. Orange alighted on it then blasted away with his explosive Anima. But the platform couldn’t handle the recoil, it crumbled apart with a flash of fire. Orange crashed on the floor as Ewan grunted, the harsh feedback from his spirit stung him.

Luckily, the failure injured no one.

Again.

He created another base and condensed it with more spirit this time, his tensed hands trembled, the air distorted around the platform. Orange exploded away from it once again and succeeded this time. The platform still fell apart but not before supporting the little monkey’s launch.

The success came after several attempts, after many trials and errors. But it wasn’t at a practical level yet. At best, Ewan could allow Orange one extra movement in the air. It wasn’t at the level where he could let the little monkey fight airborne, which was the result he hoped to get from this practice.

Again.

…….

Ewan sat in the middle of the basement, his eyes closed, his spirit interference driven to the max.

Toast meowed and paddled his feet as he drifted through the air, circling Ewan. Orange floated after Toast with breaststrokes, his tail swaying left and right, as if he could ‘swim’ faster that way. While Iris bounced up and down behind Ewan, rotating with her roots sprawled out.

Two birds with one stone—this was a good method to practice his Ryvia and keep his little monsters busy. Yet, an unseen and unexpected problem occurred once he lifted them all—Frost.

Unlike the other three, Frost hovered close to the ceiling, flailing about, panic written all over his face. His pointy tail had curled, his eyes teared up, and he screamed at the top of his lungs. Ewan had never seen Frost like this. Even at his worst, he only had childish fights with Orange. At his best, he wreaked havoc with his spells with a calm mien. But now….

“A Demon afraid of heights…,” he said under his breath.

His Pa would’ve laughed his ass off if he knew about this, Ewan would never hear the end of that taunt. He needed to fix this, and he could only think of one method to do so. Overexposure led to numbness and desensitivity in relation to the specific aspect, Ewan already used this fact once when he faced the dead. Now, it was Frost’s turn.

……

He started from a low altitude. A Kyron’s jumping height—it didn’t faze Frost, but his anxiety still passed on to Ewan.

“It’ll be fine,” Ewan said and focused on Ryvia. He couldn’t afford any mistake right now.

A couple of inches higher and Frost’s limbs trembled, his tail strained. Orange clutched his stomach and rolled on the floor, guffawing and cackling. The brat’s childish bellows echoed and annoyed Ewan.

Toast…

Toast, Ewan’s reinforcement, sauntered close to the little monkey and slapped him twice before racing away. Orange jolted up and chased after him.

Ewan heaved a sigh of relief from the dawn of quiet and attended to Frost.

“Just focus on me,” he said. “Take it slow.”

Inch by inch, he upped the height. Once Frost couldn’t take it anymore, he brought him down and rewarded him with a pat and a smile and a sugary slice of cake with creamy frosting. A few minutes of rest later, he started again. Up, panic, down, praise and cake, and rest, Ewan repeated the process until Frost numbed to a height higher than before, albeit drained and aghast.

Step-0 wasn’t Ewan’s limit, he wouldn’t let it, no matter how tough it was to advance. And the future of a Severynth included the open skies. Fear of heights was fatal to that future, he needed to fix it.

……

Fresh morning breeze caressed his skin with the sun clearing the distant fuzzy walls. His raven hair waved with it while he sat on the false chimney, admiring the view and fiddling with pebbles, his legs dangling in the air. His throat and lungs chilled with each inhale and warmed with the exhales. The basement had become his cave for days now, he only came up to do his daily business, so the gentle kiss of the early sun relaxed him.

The neighborhood was silent this morning, only the birds sang aloud. The ambience was of a holiday today, but he didn’t recall his calendar marking this date. Being out of touch with society had its perks, but it also came with some negatives. Nonetheless, the negatives didn’t concern him much since his Kyron life was behind him.

Boom…

He contained the embarrassment inside and hurled a pebble at the clear skies once the spell circuit glimmered in his soul space. The pebble shone an orange hue, it grew hotter and excited, and popped with a tiny fireball in the air. It scared the birds flying nearby and scattered their formation.

Ewan sighed. The spell was more than decent, depending on the material used, but the naming sucked. He’d already added the other spells he bought to his Spellbook; this was the only one left. And he hesitated on whether to change it. The spell wasn’t his creation, so changing the name without consent was a form of disrespect; he didn’t want to do it. But ‘Boom’ was really….

Forget it.

The name was only a shell, its core was the important part, and the spell excelled at that. At best he would never yell the spell name out loud…ever.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 302
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-45 Commotion

Chapter-45 Commotion

Dekoth.

Frost sauntered out of the soul vortex and stood beside Ewan on the chimney. His legs and tail trembled but he didn’t scream. His small figure stared at the blue skies, Ice-Anima surging around. He clenched his fist, and his lust for battle peaked.

Ewan smiled at his progress, rubbed his head, and stroked his horn bumps. “Good boy,” he said, and a vibration from his claw-ring distracted him. He frowned—it was the hub-connector.

He grabbed Frost with his Ryvia and floated down to the balcony, lying on the recliner. Frost stood by his side as a guard while he connected to the hub.

….

Hub-Stratum.

Ruckus from the market reverberated in his shop. The gathered crowd crammed the streets, their garbled chatters and screams resonating. Ewan also went out. A red hue had smeared the white streetlights today, and the paved streetways looked bloody. Ewan looked up at the source of this all; it was the huge crimson words hanging in the air, blood-red light oozing from it.

‘Countdown: 100 Years!’ it read.

“What’s this? What’s happening?” Ewan asked the same-sized spirit blob beside him.

“Fuck!” the spirit blob yelled. “No, look on the bright side, I’ll have a better chance if I survive it,” he murmured.

“I thought we had more time,” another spirit blob said, triple the size of Ewan’s.

“What is going on? What is that?” Some spirit blob asked, but no one answered.

“It was true…it was true…,” someone else muttered.

Ewan looked around at the mixed horde of spirit blobs; some asked around like him, looking lost, while some trembled and mumbled. He would never get any answers from them, so he went inside the shop and opened the information screen.
He had a notification; the seller had updated the information about ‘Obria’. But he ignored it for now and checked whether there was anything on the current situation—there was none. He frowned and checked the announcement screen. It had the same wine-red words displayed on top; ‘Endorsed by Ashevagord’ stamped on its side with their infamous ‘8’ insignia that represented the ‘Endless Helix’. The details came up once he touched it, it was for free too.

“Countdown has started: Airadia will become a Tier-3 Plane in a hundred years. Early preparation for the change advised.”

…..

Ewan opened his eyes on the recliner and stared at the still visible but faint outline of the moons. Rumor said the number of moons represented the level of a plane. If the announcement was authentic and the rumor was valid, then there would be another moon a hundred years later. But what was the ‘early preparation’ about? And the way some spirit blobs talked; their words sounded ominous.

This was a big event, enough to terrify so many powerful spirit blobs and have the ‘Ashevagord’ announce it in that manner. And ‘Tier-3’ indicated it had happened before, so it should be in his journal.

Ewan took it out from the claw-ring and flipped to the parts he had only skimmed. Indeed, many of his ancestors had mentioned this, they all warned their next generation about the destruction it caused. The extreme cataclysmic seasons during the advancement could exterminate most of the plane’s population, including Ashevas. The plane would flourish afterwards but not before the wave of cranage drowned it.

Hundred years…

An event that would happen a century later, it was an unfamiliar and unknown concept for Ewan. He chased after eternity but couldn’t understand what it meant yet. Still, the severity of the situation was clear. Hundred years, he only had as much time to prepare for the disaster. But would reaching Step-1 be enough to survive? What about Step-2? The journal didn’t answer him, he was on his own with this one. And it would be conjectures anyway, who could ever guarantee someone’s life.

Let’s take it step by step…

He would go as far as he could and prepare as much as he could. If he still died, then that would be it, that was all he was capable of. His death would be worth it; after all, he walked the path of his dreams.

…..

A sumptuous brunch later, stewed vegetables with bread and bland milk, Ewan revisited the hub—the notification remained on his mind and nagged him. The commotion outside had half died, but the bloody words still hung in the air, painting the hub in a gloomy hue.

Plethora of sellers crammed the information screen with their version of data about the recent announcements. Ewan could sell his too, but he wasn’t willing to diverge information from his journal. He also used his Pa’s identity here, that of Ulrath. Reckless display of that name without proper background knowledge might attract unwanted attention. If any of his Pa’s old enemies came to him… It was better to run the shop and earn through it, he would remain anonymous that way.

And so, he ignored it all and opened the updated information about Obria. Twelve Novas, the new price reflected the size and the value of the new content. He took a deep breath; this report would finalize his decision on whether to stay or leave the colony. His Pa’s memories and his childhood house kept him here, this was his home, but he would never put emotions before his life. If it was necessary, he would rather become a wandering Severynth outside the walls than remain inside and muddle in the chaos.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-46 Report

Chapter-46 Report

“Report—

Confirmed Facts: Fifteen years ago, the tension between the defense force and the royal family of the colony peaked. Assassinations, bribery, poaching; the laws and the political situation destabilized. With no remedy and supervision, it has worsened over the years.
Five years ago, the War Dogs rebelled. They’ve massacred the Geltam family and their supporters and have overthrown Vidovik Geltam’s rule. Unknown to the public, the War Dogs now control the colony.

The civil war behind the curtains has broken the supply routes and hindered the economy, it’s worsening by the day. The Dogs lack the proper chain of command to maintain the colony and are losing control over it.

Someone or some group has taken advantage of this to spread an anti-Severynth sentiment throughout the colony. Their purpose is unknown, but their actions show they only want chaos. They’re gaining more support from the Kyrons by the day.

Speculation: The commanders of the War Dogs were still trying to make it stronger several years ago, but they seem to have given up now. There has been no effort from their side to recruit new Severynths. The rise of the new group only supports this. From their methods and fanaticism, they seem to be a staunch religious group, and have ambitions to overthrow the military rule. The high commanders have done nothing to stop this. There have been some hints that they’re planning on abandoning the colony altogether. It has been centuries since the last colony was sold. Maybe Obria too will go to the highest bidder soon.

List of Important Deaths:…

Signed: C. Run
”

Ewan’s spirit blob flickered and faded as he hovered in silence; the gloomy blood-red tint through the window reflected his mood. First, the hundred-year time limit, and now the bad news about his colony…

Though he’d predicted some of it, the confirmation hammered in the reality. Vidovik’s death didn’t matter, military’s rule wouldn’t matter, for none of them would affect the citizens much, but they were losing control of the colony. The cloud-grazing perimeter walls separated the chaos and the order, and now the politics blurred that line. The mortals couldn’t touch him anymore but who could guarantee there were no Severynths involved in this.

He sighed. It was final, he would leave the colony. He was fortunate his Pa left him the hub-connector….

……

Eighteen years…

Ewan slumped on the sofa in the hall and looked around. This was the place he grew up in, reluctance to leave was an understatement. The kitchen where his Pa cooked; the countertop where they ate, oftentimes with Nana’s family; the hall where his Pa read him books and watched tv with him; the courtyard where they played together; the balcony where he would bore him with his stargazing… His tears, his smiles, his lame jokes, memories pervaded every nook and cranny of this house, this place he called home. Even the seven years of loneliness couldn’t dampen it.

Yet, time waited for none. He had to move sooner or later; his home couldn’t become his shackle. The current situation only forced it sooner than later.

Preparations would take time, but he had to do something before that.

……

The rusted main gate creaked when he went in. Nana’s yard clutched onto the semblance of its past, yet it’d withered beyond death. The colorful flowers had long perished, only the decaying remains proved the existence of the well-maintained beautiful garden that once welcomed the comers.

He pressed the doorbell, but nothing rang inside. So, he knocked on the door and soon muffled footfalls rushed down the stairs.

The door opened with a twist of the handle and his heart skipped a beat. Cascading silky chestnut hair caressed her shoulders, her smooth fair skin almost reflected the sun, her glossy pink lips invited him. Not even a hint of alcohol remained on her, she instead smelled floral sweet—it was the night-blooming jasmine, a flower he liked.

Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder, they said. And to him, she looked enchanting today, almost reigniting his old memories—his cherished times.

She changed so much in only a few weeks…

“Ewan? Come in.”

He followed her to the hall and took a seat on the sofa, glimpsing the dining table where the tragedy occurred.

“Sit, I have something to tell you,” Ewan said and stopped her from fetching him a glass of water.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked and sat opposite him.

“Do you know what’s been going on in the colony?”

“Those protests? Did they attack someone again?”

Ewan waited a breath. “If you have enough Novas, you should buy the information on our colony,” he said.

“Is it something bad?” she asked.

“It’s about…uncle and aunt. It’s better if you read it yourself,” he said.
Their names were in the ‘List of Important Deaths’, it detailed the circumstances surrounding their demise too, though the accuracy of it remained unchecked. The colony’s politics weaved their lives into chaos, and they suffered a disaster because of it. This was why they suddenly left, and this must be why they pushed him away when they came back—their past emotions, their sentiments, their affection, it was all true. They really cared for him…

Nana’s eyes widened, and her breath hitched.

“Obria hasn’t been stable for some time. And it’s getting worse. I’ve decided to leave, you should too.” He wanted to but ultimately couldn’t ask her to come with him, the years of distance halted his words.

She stared at the floor, her chest heaving, her eyes misty.

“Nana,” he called but she kept staring. “Nana.” He called again. “Nana!” He banged on the table and startled her. “Do you have enough Novas?” he asked.

She looked at him, dazed, a teardrop rolling down her cheek, “Y-yeah…,” she said.

“Good.” Ewan nodded. “Buy the information and decide on what to do. I hope you leave too, but it’s up to you. I’ll…go now.”

She still sat on the sofa, staring at his shadow when he got up to leave. He stopped after a step then sighed.

“Nana.” He kneeled in front her and looked up in her watery eyes. “They’re gone, you’ll have to move on someday. Think about what you want, don’t let your past trap you here.” His words weren’t for her as much as they were for himself. He had to move on too, to follow his dream.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-47 Stalling [Part-I]

Chapter-47 Stalling [Part-I]

A man and a woman in formal black suits waited at his door when Ewan returned from Nana’s house. The curly-haired man, should be in his thirties, donned a nut-brown overcoat on top with breadcrumbs on his collar. While the long-haired young woman with bangs had hers in her arm, her pleated skirt wrinkled, and dark circles ran under her reddened eyes.

“The shop’s closed indefinitely,” Ewan said with a smile and thumbed the biometric scanner.

“Ewan Ayres?” the man asked. Ewan halted and turned around, closing the opened door behind him, and the latch clicked with a grind.

“May I know who’s asking?”

“I’m Cage, and this is Gretel. We’re from L.E.A.” He flipped and showed Ewan his badge, though barely gave him any time to read the tiny letters and put it away. “We have some questions for you. Do you mind coming with us?”

Law enforcers….

“What’s this about?” Ewan asked.

“Everything will be disclosed in time, you just need to come with us,” the young woman, Gretel, said, clutching the overcoat in her hand hard. She glared at Ewan without blinking, and her bloodshot eyes veined in red.

“Of course. Can I make a call first though?” Ewan asked.

And he stepped away from the two when Cage gave the nod and called Uncle Thain. The usual female idol song rang, and it rang for a long time before he picked up.

“Ewan? Something happened?” he asked.

“Don’t know, but two black suits are here. They want me to go with them,” Ewan said. The background noise grated behind the static of the call, it sounded of a beast’s roar and someone’s bellow. He might be outside… No, the phone connected, so he should be inside the walls. “Are you busy?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, go with them. It’ll take me some time, but I’ll be there. Just stall for time but try not to say too much either,” Uncle Thain said.

“Okay.” Ewan hung up. “Let’s go,” he smiled and said to the two black suits.

……

Ewan sat on a frigid metal chair with uneven legs in a drab room with dust-shade walls and no windows, smell of fresh paint tickling his nose, the croaking side fan struggling to rotate with hiccups. The two black suits sat across the reflective table, going through some files, their overcoats hung on the coat hanger in the corner.

“Let’s start with the basics, shall we? You’re Ewan Ayres, son of Authen Ayres and Thea Ayres, turned eighteen this year, quit school, didn’t receive your Astylind, received one as a gift instead. Or should I say compensation? Your mother’s not in the picture, your father died when you were eleven, you inherited little to nothing from him and earn a living from your shop which you’ve closed indefinitely for quite some time now. Am I right or do you want to change something?” Cage said.

“It’s accurate, go on,” Ewan said, adjusting his posture on the wonky chair.

Cage pulled out a piece of paper from his file and slid it in front of Ewan, “Please sign this if you agree with what’s written on it.”

The terms were a confirmation of consent, that he was here of his own will. Ewan read it twice, there weren’t any loopholes or contract traps. But still…. “Do I have to sign this?” This was an unknown environment and he had little to no knowledge about such procedures.

“You can refuse but then this won't be a civil conversation,” Gretel said.

“I’ll take my chances," he said and slid the paper back.

Cage clicked his tongue and signed ‘E. Ayres’ on the paper himself. “It’s just a formality,” he said and stuffed it in a thick folder.

Ewan laughed; they weren’t even trying to hide it.

“Let’s get to business now. Are you aware of what happened at the Frosthelm festival this year?” Cage asked.

Is it about that? After so many days?

“I am.” He nodded.

“Were you there that day?” The man had his head buried in the folders, licking his tongue and flipping papers.

Ewan frowned and looked at both black suits. Cage carried a casual attitude while the woman brimmed with hostility. Were they trying to blame him for something?

“I refuse to answer,” Ewan said.

The man looked up and stared him in the eyes. “That you can, yes.”

Gretel clenched her jaws, her nostrils flared, her eyes flamed.

“Then let me ask, were you at this shop that day?” He passed a paper to Ewan and tapped on a certain line. It was the address of the barber shop Ewan visited on his birthday.

“I refuse to answer.” Ewan glanced at the paper and passed it back.

“Okay, what about this tournament? Did you buy its ticket?” Cage gave Ewan a copy of the ticket he bought for that Severynth tournament.

Ewan shrugged.

He put the copy aside and slid another form to him. “Would you be willing to take a blood test for us?” he asked.

“No.” Ewan slid the form back.

The man leaned back with a deep breath and pushed the folders to the side. “Have we got off on the wrong foot? We just want to ask some questions.”

“You tell me. Your lady here has already killed me million times in her head, probably tortured even. I doubt that asking questions is all you want to do.” Ewan chuckled.

Cage looked at the fuming young woman and sighed. “Let’s just chat then. You wouldn’t refuse that, would you?”

“Depends.” Ewan also leaned back and balanced the lopsided legs of the chair, his boots tapping on the floor at intervals. Its three and a half stumps existed to make him uncomfortable, and it did just that and excelled at it. His heart had rarely raced with such rhythm, and the butterflies were having a picnic in his stomach.

“You’re aware of the recent conflicts. What are your views on it? Severynths and Kyrons, do you think we can live together in peace?” Cage bit the unlit cigarette butt and struck his lighter drum, again and again, shielding the wick with his other palm. Sparks flew but it didn’t kindle.

Ewan laughed. “You talk as if we’re equal. Here, let me show you the difference.” He traced the <Ember> spell circuit in a flash and torched half his cigarette with a flick of a finger.

“Stop!” Gretel sprung on her feet, flinging the chair back. It cracked when it hit the floor—hers was wooden. Cage shivered, though the room was warm, and clenched his jaws with a gulp; the cigarette’s ashes scattered on the table.

Ewan raised both his arms and yielded, but the scale of dominance tipped on his side and killed the butterflies. “It was just <Ember>.”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-48 Stalling [Part-II]

Chapter-48 Stalling [Part-II]

“S…So, you think Kyrons should remain slaves to the Severynths?” Cage asked, flicking his still-lit cigarette away, his leg bouncing up and down. Gretel picked up the chair and sat down, her shoulders trembling; her heaves hitched at half her lungful.

“I never said that. But…” Ewan leaned forward, the chair slanting on a different leg with him. “Are you slaves? Are you not free to do whatever you want? You two Kyrons are here questioning me, a Severynth. Do you think slaves can do that?”

Cage scoffed. “Maybe not slaves per se. But you wouldn’t disagree Severynths have it much easier than Kyrons, and for no other reason than just being a Severynth, would you?”

“And you think that’s not fair?” Ewan asked.

“Of course not.” Gretel slapped the table and interrupted.

“Severynths have surpassed Kyrons, even at the basic life level. You think it’s ‘fair’ to give us the same treatment as Kyrons then? Maybe it will work inside the walls, where you have peace and security. But what about outside?”

Cage took a deep breath. “Is that why you killed so many innocent people at the Frosthelm festival?” he asked.

The question stunned Ewan, and he lost his words in his throat. Then he laughed. “Were you leading me?” The chair inclined back.

“So? Why did you kill them?” Gretel asked.

“Would you believe me if I say I didn’t? Haven’t you guys already made up your mind?”

“Just answer me,” she said. Cage took out another cigarette and lit it after three drum strikes.

“I refuse to,” Ewan said. “Did someone close to you die there? You seem very hostile.”

She glared at Ewan, clawing her left forearm with her right until her nails drew blood.

“My condolences then,” Ewan said, glancing at her bleeding wound. “But it really has nothing to do with me.”

“We have a witness who puts you there, Ewan. May I call you Ewan?” Cage took a puff, the cigarette burned brighter, and blew the smoke to the side. “She described you and your Astylind in vivid details. Now, I won't ask how its image is different from what we have in our record, that’s other department’s business, but this case is my business. And I just want to solve it as soon as I can and go back home to my lovely and bitchy wife and sleep in my own bed. So, I hope you can give us some answers. If you’re innocent, I promise nothing will happen to you.”

‘She’?

He only met one woman that day, the Kyron he saved. She saw Frost and the details matched, but she couldn’t be the witness either. He’d saved her after all, even considering the basic debt of saving her life, she wouldn’t do that. She shouldn’t….

“Is that what makes you so confident? Her word against mine, how do you think it will end?”

“She’s only a catalyst. Her statement will allow us to gather more evidence.” Cage slid the blood test form back to Ewan and tapped on it twice. “Either you sign it now willingly, or you’ll have to sign it later by force, up to you. I hope you can reconsider.”

“What do you think your dead father would say if he saw you like this? Do you think he would be happy to see his son killing so many innocents?” the young woman chimed in.

Cage sighed. “Gretel, you’ve gone too far,” he said.

“But sir…”

“You’ve also lost someone. You should know better than to use a man’s pain like that. Don’t do it again.” He glared at her.

Motherfuckers…

A subordinate bringing up a sensitive topic without the consent of her superior….
If cynicism hadn’t stuffed his nature to the brim, he would’ve believed their play.

“I apologize on her behalf. She’s suffered a loss recently, please forgive her insolence,” he said and bowed his head.

“It’s fine. She’s just doing her job, I won't mind her for that,” Ewan said with a smile.

The coat dangling on the hanger vibrated and the phone’s ring echoed in the room.

“Please excuse me,” Cage said and went to the corner to receive the call.

He whispered on the phone for a couple of minutes, as the woman played the glare game with Ewan, then put it back in the coat pocket. “Sorry, that was my wife. She’s urging me to come home soon,” he said with a laugh, taking the chair again. “I actually told her about you. She didn’t believe such a nice young man could commit such an act. She told me to show some leniency. That woman is too good natured.”

The bullshit’s really stinking….

Ewan controlled himself from wording his thoughts. The man’s shampooed and fluffy hair, his well-groomed beard, his nicely trimmed nails, and the hint of a woman’s perfume; none of it pointed towards a man who hadn't gone home for days. Most of all, the call he received was from a man, not his wife, and they talked about a lawyer coming in. Ewan’s Ryvia had covered that corner, and he heard every single word this man said. These guys had never encountered someone with Ryvia, or at least a Ryvia of his range…

“Must be nice to have such a caring wife,” Ewan said, his polite smile plastered on his face. He was stalling for time anyway, and these people were giving him more options, he had nothing to complain about. And the lawyer they mentioned on the phone must be Uncle Thain, so he didn’t have to wait for long either.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-49 Agreement

Chapter-49 Agreement

“Let’s make it easy for both of us, shall we? I’m also helpless here, so I would really appreciate it if you helped us out. You just need to take a blood test. If you’re innocent, we won't keep you even a second more. I’ll personally see you out of the door,” Cage said.

Ewan shrugged and kept mum.

“There’s no need.” Uncle Thain entered the room, dragging a chair that scraped the floor, and sat beside Ewan, fixing his tie and suit. Ewan’s nose tingled, he reeked of blood and patches of red stained his right cuff.

As always, his sleeve bag hung by him, but there were faint red dots on it today, blood splatters from the smell of it. He took out a stack of papers from it and spread them on the table as the two black suits glared at him. “Your witness stole from her workplace on a regular basis; this is the signed proof from her manager and colleagues.” He pointed towards a paper. “She cheated her friends of their money many times; this is the signed proof.” He pointed towards another. “She’s been having an affair behind her longtime fiancé; this is the proof with the photos and the dates.”

He pushed all the papers towards the two black suits who looked aghast, they’d paled with every word. “Any evidence you procure based on your witness’s statement will be invalid. I will rip her character to shreds, her words won't have any weight. I found this much in an hour; how much more do you think I can find in days? How likely will it then seem for her to lie?” Uncle Thain said.

Cage went through all the papers, his jaws clenched. Gretel stared from the side, trembling in her chair as its legs clattered.

“If there’s nothing further, we’ll be leaving. You can keep the papers.” Uncle Thain beckoned Ewan. “And if you keep pushing for it, your witness will vanish. Take that as an advice or a threat, up to you. Come after me for it if you want absolute mayhem.”

Cage crumpled the papers, grinding his teeth, his whitened knuckles shivering.

“Sir?” Gretel asked. “Are we really letting him go?”

He took a deep breath with his eyes closed, then scowled at Ewan. “You may go,” he said, his utterance strained.

“Sir, please, we can't.”

“Shut up!!” Cage yelled, and she flinched back.

“You can continue your drama on your own, please excuse us,” Uncle Thain said and led Ewan out of the room.

……

The two stood in the open plaza outside the L.E.A office, basking under the bright afternoon sun, verdure nature surrounding them with the call of the birds. The colony extended in the distance and the obscure walls hid the horizon, the open world lying beyond.

“It’s a wonderful place, I would love to live here really,” Uncle Thain said and lit a cigarette with his ignited finger. “I can understand why your father liked it here. I’ll miss this.” He took a deep puff and blew out towards the clear skies.

“You’re leaving?” Ewan asked.

“I had an agreement with him, hundred ‘n eighteen years. Hundred for him, eighteen for you, and it’s over now. I’ve paid back what I owed him, and some more because it’s you. You’ve also grown, it’s time for me to leave.”

Ewan nodded, a hint of melancholy drifting at the back of his mind, but soon a word occupied his head.

Over hundred years….

A living proof puffed his cig before him, his dream could indeed become reality one day. But if Uncle Thain was over a hundred years old, then his Pa too…

Uncle Thain looked at him and smiled. “It’s a peaceful life in here, but these walls will only restrict you if you wish for more. You won't improve unless you venture out. The only son of Ulrath shouldn’t waste his life in this well.”

“I’ve already decided to leave,” Ewan said. “Was that his alias, Ulrath?”

“It was his second identity. Few knew Authen, but the name Ulrath was famous, or infamous I should say. Blood-Demon Ulrath, some called him, but only a handful could connect that name to his face.” Uncle Thain laughed. “He never liked that prefix though, didn’t fit his handsome image he said.”

“Was he strong? What…made him like that then?” His Pa’s scrawny body popped up in his mind. Severe hacks and hyperpnea followed his words during his final days. He’d withered away, helpless, until one last sunset when his breaths ceased on Ewan’s shoulders, and his heart beat its last thump.

Uncle Thain took another puff. “Not yet, that part of the agreement is still valid.”

Ewan stared at the floor, his mood plummeting. The sheer denial alone proved his Pa didn’t die of natural causes. Was it an enemy even his Pa couldn’t beat? Did someone poison him?

“Don’t overthink it. You don’t need to search for answers, I’ll tell you everything when the time comes.”

Ewan nodded.

“Here,” Uncle Thain said and handed him a patinated medallion that still held traces of silver here and there. “This is the proof of our pledge.”

Ewan took it—the medallion glimmered with a cerulean tint on his touch—and looked at him, his eyes asking all the questions.

“I and some others pledged to Authen; this has a trace of our aura. It’ll glow in our presence, you can sense us with it,” he said. “Be a little careful though, we can sense it too, and our allegiance might not be the same anymore.”

Ewan rubbed it with his fingers, feeling the cold metal, staring at its curved patterns. “Can I seal it then?” he asked.

Uncle Thain chuckled. “You can try when you become Step-1, right now it won’t listen to you.”

“Don’t think it’s over!!” Gretel, the young black suit, rushed out of the building and screamed at Ewan. “If the laws can't punish you, then I’ll do it myself. I won't let you live a single peaceful day in this colony. Everyone will know your name and face and what you did. I will destroy your life!!!” She screeched at the top of her lungs, gritting her teeth, panting, her eyes veined red and misty.

Ewan frowned at her while Uncle Thain smirked with a puff of smoke, blowing out rings within rings.

“Does she have that much clout? Is anyone backing her?” Ewan asked.

“No, her only family, her mother, died in that Frosthelm festival. No one will care if she dies,” Uncle Thain said and looked at Ewan with a smile. “At best she would out your details to the news. She might already have.”

Ewan’s mood was already down, and the threats worsened it. He stared at the hysteric woman, his breaths slowed down, and his invisible Ryvia reached for her. It grabbed and held her diaphragm in place. The woman gasped and fell on her knees. She clutched her throat and tussled to breathe. Yet, her diaphragm didn’t budge, her lungs stilled, and all her efforts hitched into hiccups. Soon her nose bled and her lips and skin blued. She collapsed on the floor, wheezing, her nails digging in her neck, her legs flailing, hurling her heels away.

Her condition caused an uproar in the surroundings. People gathered around her, some tried to help her up, but nothing worked, and they all clamored to call for a doctor. One said to the other, and the other passed it to another, no one acted in the end.

Ewan looked on, pocketing the medallion.

“Why were they targeting me for that attack? Do you know anything about this?” he asked Uncle Thain as the woman inched closer to death.

“They didn’t target you; you were just easier. They also gathered other Severynths, but only you had a witness,” Uncle Thain said and flicked the burnt-out cigarette away.

“I see…Thank you for your help,” Ewan said. “You were always there for me.”

Uncle Thain smiled. “Vent with her death, and leave the rest to me, this won't blow back on you. Be careful out there, good luck on the adventure. And find someone to share it with, don’t be alone all the time.”

“I’ll meet you again someday,” Ewan said with a nod. “I hope it’ll be soon.” The two shook hands and went their own way as the dying woman slipped into an eternal slumber.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-50 Vow

Chapter-50 Vow

[Teal]

Vin had promised never to leave her alone, yet he died on his own, not even his corpse remained. She had no family left now, and every second that ticked in this house reminded her of that. Her purpose in life was to make him proud, to provide an easy life for him, like he did for her. She thought she had time, that he would always be here, she took his presence for granted, but now he was gone. His voice still rang in her ears, what she wouldn’t give to just hear him scolding and preaching again, she missed his care…she missed him. If only she realized his struggles, if only she helped him out, if only she eased his burden…but it was too late now. He was dead, and only the regrets remained and tortured her day and night.

She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling with dazed eyes, old tears drying on her cheeks while new ones rolled down her temples. They’d already drenched her pillow.

“Teal, you have to eat something. Do it for your brother if nothing else,” Kole knocked on her door and said. “I’ll leave it here, eat while its hot.” He left with a sigh.

The steamy food’s aroma wafted through the door’s crevices and her stomach growled. It cared nothing for her emotions and her mind, it needed food. But Teal still didn’t budge. Her hunger couldn’t topple her regrets, her pain, her sorrow.

“Teal!! Open up!!” Soon Kole came back and banged on her door, the thuds from his punches rattled the latch. “You must see this, Teal! It’s about your brother,” he yelled.

Teal jolted up and tried to rush to the door but got dizzy and collapsed. Her emaciated body struggled amidst Kole’s banging, and she dragged herself to open the door.

Kole held her by her shoulder and supported her to the hall. Her feet bumped into the plate on the floor and the splatters of the piping hot curry scalded her foot, but she didn’t care. And neither did Kole.

“Our sources have confirmed—Ewan Ayres, an eighteen-year-old boy who ran a shop and lived alone, has been tagged as the biggest suspect in the blood festival case.” The news ran the same comments again and again with Ewan’s picture from his school I.D plastered all over it.

“W-What is this?” Teal asked.

“They’ve been showing this for a while. This bastard is the culprit it seems. He killed Vin. They’re saying he’s mental,” Kole said.

Teal clenched her fists with whatever strength she had left. Her knuckles paled, and her shoulders shivered. The thought of revenge rekindled her flickering flame of life. She gained a purpose, she wanted to butcher this man. Why he did what he did didn’t matter, he took her brother’s life; that was all she knew.

Kole scoffed, staring at the tv screen. “He’s a ‘mighty’ Asheva, there’s no way he’ll get any punishment.”

Teal took a deep breath and looked towards her room. The Astylind egg she received from her school was still in there, her tragedy had made her forget about it. But if she wanted to kill an Asheva, she would have to become an Asheva, Kyrons were helpless against that group.

I’ll bring you justice, Vin. I’ll avenge you and make this world a better place for Kyrons to live…I promise you.

……

[Ewan]

Ewan walked down the stairs from the L.E.A. office that existed halfway up a hill and took the tram back home. On his way, the chatters and the whispers, the scared bloodless faces, and the people who scattered away like rats after seeing him, informed him of his current situation. He sighed and clicked his tongue, that woman indeed outed him to the news. The truth didn’t matter at this point, the public had an outlet for their rage and accusations, correcting them was a fool’s errand. And he didn’t intend to either. His already non-existent social life as a Kyron was over, by external influence or by choice, he couldn’t care less.

The only annoyance was the people who gathered their courage and attacked him. Ewan’s Ryvia surrounded him and held the attackers back as he took out his medallion and stared at it. Some followed the vanguard attackers and hurled random items at him that braked and hovered after coming into his Ryvia’s range.

He sighed, that woman might not have harmed him, but she did give him a headache. These people took his passive stance as his weakness. He glanced at the grunting young man with a knife who struggled within his Ryvia, his face contorted and flushed. Ewan controlled his Ryvia and twisted his limbs, a heart-wrenching scream followed the tram-silencing snaps and cracks. His limbs bent in unnatural ways, some fractures breaking the skin with the jagged bones, and the young man wailed his lungs out; tears snot and saliva covered his face. Soon he sobbed for mercy, and the others scattered away like rats once again, screeching. Mothers hugged their children, men protected their loved ones, they all eyed Ewan warily from a distance.

Ewan let the man go and looked at the medallion again, rubbing the patinated traces. It had a spirit imprint on it, the same as his claw-ring. It proved its origin and marked its affinity with his Pa. And so, he flicked the medallion once and stored it in his claw-ring. Time would tell its applications; he left it to his Pa’s machinations. A hint of curiosity budded in his heart, however, he wished to explore its ins and outs.

While he lost himself in his thoughts, a man from the huddled crowd braved forward, his steps inching ahead, and dragged the young man with broken limbs away. At least his example would give him some peace for some time.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.0

Anima: [Fire – 6.0 | Ice – 6.0 | Blood – 6.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-51 Outskirts

Chapter-51 Outskirts

The rest of his journey remained eventless, but the situation would repeat once he exited the tram. Ewan sighed. Did the stacking coincidences force the current circumstances? Or did he make a mistake somewhere? Was going to that Frosthelm festival a wrong move? He rubbed his forehead. In retrospect, it was. And saving that woman there worsened it. But he didn’t regret anything. Saving the woman slapped him a reality check, and going to the Frosthelm festival showed him the actual situation of the colony. If not, he wouldn’t consider leaving this place. Nonetheless, the moniker of ‘madman’ irritated him. Why did they have to call him mental?

“I really don’t like these people.” He sighed once more.

…..

[Slate]

The stubborn afterglow of the setting sun painted the view beyond the glass walls in an orange-red hue. The colony shimmered under the soft dusk. But the breathtaking view halted before the suffocating ambience inside and stayed away.

“It’s sour, get me another one,” Thea said, throwing the juice glass across the room. It shattered against the wall and burst into shards, orange juice splattering everywhere, drenching the new carpet.

“Right away, ma’am,” Slate said, wiping the drops of juice off his face with his handkerchief.

“Continue,” she said, leaning back on her new chair that behaved in silence unlike the last annoying one.

“Obria has been sealed, ma’am,” Slate said, ordering another glass of juice with some natural sweeteners this time from the intercom. “We can't send anyone in, and no one has come out either. The last news we received about him was yesterday’s report. They’ve framed him as the culprit behind the blood festival and the news has outed him to the public.”

“Framed?” Thea scoffed. “He’s that bastard’s son, he’s very much capable of doing that.”

“Of course.” Slate bowed his head.

“How is he? Was he hurt?” she said, swiveling her chair towards the enforced glass wall, gripping the armrests hard. Her nails dug into the leather.

“He dealt with the problem, nothing happened to him.”

“Hmph, it would’ve been better if something did,” she said, her grips loosened.

“Of course, ma’am.”

“What’s happening with Obria? Can he get out?” she asked.

“Its management problems seem to have festered to their limits. The colony cannot sustain anymore, it’s going to be auctioned off soon. I’m afraid he can't get out that easily.”

“Auctioned?” Thea sniggered. “It was his favorite place. I hope the new owner burns it to the ground.”

“I hope so too, ma’am.”

“And hurt my child? Who do you think you are?” Thea said, swiveling back around and glaring at Slate.

“My apologies.” Slate bowed forty-five degrees. “I was being insolent,” he said calmly but cursed Dr. Lumen in his mind. “By the way, ma’am, your nephews and nieces are here.” He changed the topic.

Thea frowned. “What do they want now?”

“Their business suffered losses; they want you to sponsor them again.”

“All of them?”

“Mr. Des…..the bald one is here for his grandson, he’s turning eighteen soon and isn’t happy with what the school’s giving,” Slate said.

“Bloodsucking self-entitled leeches every single one of them,” she said. “Just give them what they want, I don’t have time to meet them.” She took out her knitting tools attached to the snaking long white muffler from the drawer and knitted. “See if you can contact anyone inside Obria, make sure he’s safe. Go there yourself if needed. You can leave now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Slate said and bowed out.

……

[Ewan]

The walls stretched higher and higher as the tram wheeled in. Ewan craned his neck out the window to look at the clouded top. Anxiety and excitement with bouts of nervousness cuffed him in waves. Though this was just in preparation for the eventual departure, the prospect of his new journey took him on a rollercoaster of emotions, his heart just couldn’t settle down.

“Adventure shall await,” he murmured, getting a bit red in the ears. He looked around to check whether anyone heard him—no one did luckily, or at least no one cared.

The tram stopped at the final station with a jerking brake that screamed a deathly squeak. Beyond this only his legs could take him.

The quality of life plunged near the wall in comparison to the central areas of the colony. Rundown inns, boisterous taverns, and raucous stall market became the norm. Hunters made up the numbers here, general citizens had no business in this place.

Ewan stepped off the tram and breathed in a lungful of stale air, his lips twitched. Alcohol, sweat, piss, what else contributed to this foul stench? Disadvantages of merging his soul with Toast showed up in places like these, his sharpened sense of smell became a headache. He could block it off with Ryvia, but an unknown place called for some prudence and subtlety. Even if the hunters here were Kyrons, he couldn’t underestimate them, let alone if they were Ashevas. So, he tolerated the torture of his nose and treaded through the rowdy market, minding his steps on the fresh dog shit. He was here to exchange his Sols and to obtain information on how to get out, hence, the tavern became his target.

The muffled garbled noise blared up the closer he walked to the nearest tavern’s dilapidated door, and so did the stink. Ewan bore the torment and strode in. The situation inside couldn’t be any more like the clichés he’d read about. Groups sitting together around tables, playing games, guzzling from the huge pitchers, making a racket.

Ewan sat on an empty stool by the counter, away from the crowd. “Do you trade?” he asked the middle-aged barkeep who was tinkering with a mix of alcohol.

“What do you need?” the barkeep asked, putting his tools aside.

“Crelith coins for Sols.”

“How much?”

“How much can you exchange?” Ewan asked.

“You’re new here? You smell of milk, hah!” A bearded patron a couple of stools away laughed, half-sprawled on the counter, looking at Ewan with an empty pitcher in his hand. His eyes drooped, and his breath stank from afar. “Shouldn’t you be in school right now, kid?”

“It’s holiday today,” Ewan said, taking out his phone. “So?” he asked the barkeep.

“Brothers, you heard that? It’s holiday today, drinks on the house!!” the patron hollered and the whole bar cheered with him.

“Just tell me the number,” the barkeep said, clutching the patron’s messy hair and bashing his head against the counter. One bash made him dizzy, the glasses rattled. The second one knocked him out cold, and the bar hushed down.

Ewan glanced at the lump on the patron’s forehead and passed his phone to the barkeep, his account displayed on the screen. “All of it,” he said.

The barkeep took one look and nodded. “Wait here, I’ll have someone fetch it. Order something in the meanwhile if you want, first one’ll be on the house.”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------
Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.2

Anima: [Fire – 6.2 | Ice – 6.2 | Blood – 6.2]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Sol: 4987

 

Spoiler: Chapter-52 Hypocrite

Chapter-52 Hypocrite

“So, we can't go out? How long will it take?” Ewan asked, pocketing the pouch crammed with Crelith coins—about five thousand, he traded all his Sols for it. A single coin of this transparent metal might be light on the fingers, but five thousand of it pulled his thin jacket down, almost ripping his pocket. He couldn’t wait to get alone and put it inside his claw-ring.

“We’ve been waiting for days now and still nothing,” A semi-sober customer said, joining in on the conversation. “My saving’s already running thin.”

“Then stop drinking,” the barkeep said, sliding a pitcher of brown ale on the counter to Ewan. Less than a quarter spilled when the glass braked before him.

“That can't do.” The customer grinned. He gulped the last bit of alcohol in his glass, shaking it to get the drops, and slammed it on the counter. “Another one!”

Did the situation worsen that much already? Ewan wondered, sipping the ale. It was spicy and burned his throat, but also had a syrupy smell to it that he couldn’t taste.

“If you want to wait for more information, you can rent a room in my inn. It’s the best around here and won’t cost you much, only one Sol per day,” the barkeep said. “I also take Crelith coins.”

“I’ll rent one then,” Ewan said. “And keep me informed of any developments here, I’ll pay for it.” He slid a Crelith coin to the barkeep.

The speculations in the report he read in the hub worried him. If it became reality, it would drag him into a torrent. He needed to pay the hub a visit to check the current situation, and he needed a quiet and safe room for it.

…….

Inside the room.

Orange jumped out of the vortex and stood guard as Ewan connected to the hub, lying on the creaking bed with the sheet and pillow smelling sundried.

His shop was the same as always, devoid of anything to sell, and so were the streets outside. The clamor from the Airadia’s advancement countdown had already settled, businesses were back to normal.

Ewan checked the information screen, there was nothing new on Obria. The announcement screen had something related though, and it was heating up by the minutes. An ongoing auction with the ‘Ashevagord’ stamp listed the colony as its finale. The confirmation of his suspicions deflated Ewan, worries and concerns tormented his mind. Were the bids for the colony alone? Or did it include its inhabitants too…

He sighed. The sky-high walls that once gave him a sense of security now caged him inside. Unless the gates opened, he couldn’t go anywhere. The damn wall was unclimbable.

Back in the room, Ewan took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. He came here only for two purposes, never to stay for long. One he’d accomplished while the other looked bleak…

If he was the new owner, the new Crown, he would never open the gates until he controlled the colony and established a stable rule. If he assumed the worst, chaos was inevitable. Nevertheless, his reason for staying on the outskirts ended with the new information, it was time to go back.

……

The return journey remained uneventful, save for the jeers and the curses people threw at him, which fell on deaf ears. The heat from the news still raged about, he was still the number one enemy of the public. But no one attacked him, no one came for his Crelith coins either, contrary to his worries. Either the hunters in the tavern were all Severynths and didn’t care for this currency, or they were all prudent and vigilant enough to not attack someone they knew nothing about. Regardless, it saved him some time and effort.

His one-day adventure ended as he opened the door to his home and stepped into his courtyard with freshly grown grass that healed the scorched earth. The next order of business was to increase his strength as much as he could before the chaos descended. And his target was <Bloodlust>, he’d ignored it long enough.

……

Down in the basement.

Ewan sat cross-legged in a corner with the <Bloodlust> book spread open in front of him, flipped to the second phase—nurturing the blood aura. Blood-red threads snaked around him, swirling uncontrolled. Only a single thread followed his will and acted on his thoughts.

He twirled this blood thread around his finger then made random shapes with it. His control was still amateurish, but he was getting better. When he’d played enough, he absorbed it and sent it to his blood rune. This marked the success of the <Bloodlust>. He could now trigger the spell with that single blood thread. Though subpar in the beginning, it had limitless growth potential. The more he killed, the stronger it would grow.

Yet, the fact conflicted him. Even though he already killed several, using death to practice a spell didn’t sit too well.

“I’m such a hypocrite…,” he murmured.

…..

The auction ended after a day, Obria had a new owner now. Ewan hoped for the best but was ready for the worst, or so he thought.

On the third daybreak after the auction, the horrors of reality far surpassed his worst imagination.

He stood on the chimney, gaping at the erupting mushrooms of fire in the distance while the sirens blared in the air. Gusts of wind smacked his face, his clothes fluttered, his hair danced. The chimney shook with every shockwave, chipped concrete fell off. Horrified screams echoed in the block, children wailed, dogs howled, birds flapped away in panic, and the deafening alarm smothered them all. Everyone was out on the streets today; terror and fright ran amuck.

And then, the walls came crashing down.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.6

Anima: [Fire – 6.6 | Ice – 6.6 | Blood – 6.6]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Crelith: 4984

 

Spoiler: Chapter-53 Game

Chapter-53 Game

Ewan stared at the dome barrier that now covered the colony, the back of his neck tingling, sending currents down his spine. Most gaped in awe at the sky-blue lights streaking over the saffron cage, but its purpose wasn’t lost on him. This cage meant to trap them inside…
But why? The walls did that job, not even Severynths could climb that. Unless it targeted those who could fly, but few of that level existed in this colony now, or perhaps there were none.

A phone rang in the block, a second ring followed soon, then the third and the fourth hummed the symphony. The whole neighborhood buzzed aloud with ringing phones. Ewan’s phone rang too, he received a message.

“Dear Ashevas of Obria,” it read. “Please accept my deepest apologies for any inconvenience already caused and the more to come. I speak to you as the new Crown of your colony, Valenza Adorno, but my intentions are far from ruling it. As you may have noticed, the cage will prevent you from getting out, rest assured though, I bear no ill will towards you. My only purpose is the completion of the Regal Rite, and it unfortunately asks for blood.”

Ewan frowned at the implication, for it hinted at a massacre. “Kyron’s blood can suffice, but I do not wish to force your hand and turn you into butchers. That’s why the colony will now enter a survival game. Fight and survive until the Regal Rite is over, and you’ll be rewarded. Fail and die on the way, and I will mourn your end. And so, without further ado, let it begin.”

Fuck…

Ewan looked on in dismay as hordes of Astylinds barged in through the cage, rampaging at the colony’s border. Even the dust cloud from the fallen wall couldn’t hide their tempest, and it answered his doubts about the dome. The cage stopped anyone from leaving, but it let the menace in. The new ruler had matched his gambit with the incoming tide, or he might’ve triggered it himself. Nonetheless, the endless support from the nature solidified his maneuver…

He shook his head; these thoughts were pointless at this point. His survival was more important. Luckily, he lived in the center of the colony, the outer areas would buy him time.

Two choices rested before him now—either he could look for a way out or play the ‘game’ according to the new owner’s wishes. The monumental cage overlooking the entirety of the colony smothered all hopes of finding any loophole. So, playing the game might be his only option… At least, it wasn’t impossible to survive on the given terms. The new Crown needed blood for his rite, and the colony lacked anything but that. He only had to wait out the bloodbath and freedom would greet him with open arms.

Yet, the same would put him on the back foot… He floated down to the balcony, his mind churning. Passive course of actions would leave him to the new Crown’s mercy. If he intended to do as he messaged, all would be fine. But if he didn’t…

Even though the cage looked indelible, he had to try.

……

The outskirts of the colony kept the Astylinds busy for the day, the central part remained intact. The pale tint of the orange sunset purpled, and the sky welcomed a moonless night, the dense clouds mirroring the gloom beneath. The loss of daylight would weaken any diurnals, and the nocturnals would emerge—it was finally time to leave, for the night gave him an advantage too.
Ewan prepared everything—all the essentials were in his claw-ring—he took one look at each room, said his goodbyes to the past, locked the house, and left with sorrow dousing every inch of his being, glancing at Nana’s house as he walked away. He was a wanderer from now on, his home would be where he would be.

His destination was the border and then the outside world if possible. The cage met the ground at the edge of the colony, even if it was futile, he had to check it out. If he failed, he would join the game. And he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

A group of Severynths—some among them his regulars—huddled by the corner of the block, discussing in hushed voices, armed with daggers and kitchen knives. Nana leaned on the wall beside them, alone and quiet, peeping at his house from time to time. Her Astylind perched on her shoulder, pecking her hair, tweeting and chirping.

And Nana perked up when Ewan exited.

The neighborhood suffered a brownout; the streetlights flickered, and the shadows blinked. Ewan’s green glowing eyes met theirs in the dark and they looked away, even his regular customers avoided him. The news of the blood festival had a bigger impact than he imagined, it affected the casual Severynths too. But it was better this way, less obstruction, no one to bother him—he was always alone, and he would remain so. He pocketed his hands in his onyx-black cargo, glancing at Nana with wavering eyes and his emotions rippling, and skirted them, keeping his distance.

“Can I come with you?” Nana asked, stepping forward. Her bird chirped at him, flapping her wings. “I won't be a bother, I promise. I’ll just follow quietly,” she said.

Ewan looked at the Water Jay preening, and strolled way, his silence answering her—Nana scuttled after him with a smile. A minute after his resolution, he ceased to be alone…

“Where’re we going?” she asked when they crossed a few haunted-quiet streets. Flowers had bloomed on the roadside, stubborn weeds jutted out the walls. Greenbirth brought life and activity after the desolate and silent Frosthelm. Yet, the absence of Starons and the distant howls put Ewan on edge, he couldn’t appreciate the intrigue of seasons right now.

“Are you going to hunt?” she asked again, sticking close to him.

“What happened to ‘follow quietly’?”

She shrunk her neck. “The silence is creepy…”

Ewan sighed. “I’m going to the outskirts.”

“Why? Do you want to check the barrier? Are you leaving?”

“Aren’t you?” he asked. “Why’d you come with me anyway?”

“I can protect you,” she said.

“I don’t need it.”

“Luna can heal, she can be a good support.”

“…Fine, just keep up,”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.7

Anima: [Fire – 6.7 | Ice – 6.7 | Blood – 6.7]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Crelith: 4984

 

Spoiler: Chapter-54 First Hunt

Chapter-54 First Hunt

Ewan squatted on the rooftop railing, squinting at the Bloated Buffalo roaming on the streets, headbutting the streetlights and scratching its bulky neck. It was still beyond his or his Astylinds’ range, he was waiting for it to come over.

“You’re already dragging me down….,” he said, glancing at Nana who struggled to climb the pipe. She finally latched onto the roof edge with trembling arms, her face drenched in sweat, wet chestnut hair sticking to her forehead.

“You….can….help….” She dragged herself up, her ample chest heaving in quick rhythms.

“I’m keeping an eye on our prey,” Ewan said, staring at her bosom, gulping. Her ivory top really did her curves justice. “Why’d you wear that? Are you trying to expose us?” The color of her clothes was a beacon in the dark night, Astylinds could spot her from a distance. But most of all, what it accentuated distracted him.

She sprawled on the floor, panting.

“Stay there and don’t make any noise. I’ll deal with this one on my own,” Ewan said, focusing on the buffalo again; it was almost in his range. Frost strolled out of the vortex beside him when he triggered Dekoth, glancing at Luna then turned to Ewan.

“Come over, it’s not that high.” Ewan reached out and gave him a helping hand. Frost grabbed on and stood by him on the edge. His grip clutched when he looked down and his tail clamped up, but he didn’t back out.

“Imp?” Nana asked, coming over. Luna chirped, tilting her head.

“Shh…” Ewan shushed her with a gesture. “It’s close,” he said, eyeing the buffalo.

Astylinds were always pictures and texts in the books, so the closeup view was a new experience. The bloated lumps all over the charcoal buffalo’s body made it look diseased, but the water they contained brimmed with lethality. Apart from that, these buffaloes also had their thick horns to attack and defend. A close-to-mid range battle with them contained risks.

Fireflies!

Its path was easy to predict. Ewan cast <Fireflies>, aiming at a certain distance from the Astylind. Half his Fire-Anima suffused the spell circuit and crossed its minimum threshold, yet it was nowhere near saturation. The spell had a high max point, five Novas for it was a bargain.

The spell took effect in a while—one of its negatives—and armed a circle of area in the buffalo’s path. Now the only thing left was to lure it there.

Boom…

Even calling the name in his mind was embarrassing, but this wasn’t the time to squabble about it. He used a pebble with the spell and hurled it at the armed <Fireflies>. It popped above it with a small flash that lit up the dark streets for a moment. The buffalo mooed and shot a thin but rapid stream of water in that direction. The water stream rent the concrete and left a deep but wet gash, and one of its bloated water-sack shriveled at the same time.

Ewan glanced at the fissure and waited for the buffalo to move. Yet, it only huffed and stared at where it attacked. It must be testing its opponent; he took out another pebble and threw it at the <Fireflies>.

The flash and the pop riled the buffalo this time. It huffed again and darted ahead, its head down, the horns ready to tear its enemy apart, and its hooves clomped on the asphalt.

Get ready.

Frost fashioned two icicles on Ewan’s command, they floated before him. It was for contingency, in case the <Fireflies> wasn’t enough to finish it off.

The buffalo raced, and the moment its front hooves thudded on the armed area, pea-sized fireflies gushed out of the ground and glued to its head, shoulders, front legs, and stomach. The buffalo mooed and thrashed around, knocking down the streetlights, but the milky fireflies clung to it, glowing. And a second later, they all exploded with a roar.

Nana yelped and backed off; Luna fluttered her wings but stayed put.

The expanding cloud of dust soon took over the fleeting fireball. Chips of concrete, stones, blood, gore, and body parts rained in the area.
Ewan squinted, the dirt cloud blurred it, but the buffalo was missing its front parts, he was sure.

Still, he waited to confirm it and only jumped off when the buffalo thudded over. His Ryvia expanded and hovered him down when the ground reached his range. It also created a shield around him and kept the dust at bay when he moved close to the exploded area. Yet, the sight he expected to see didn’t match the reality. The buffalo died; it better had with its head missing. But the ground sucked all his blood and its body withered away.

This was how the new Crown gathered the blood for the rite, the whole colony was his playground… Ewan took a deep breath; this was out of his control. At least, the cerulean Astylind Core survived. The buffalo was a Level-2 Astylind, its core would sell for around two Novas. It wasn’t a great amount but was a start. And it signified the success of his first hunt.

……

“Jump already!” Ewan hollered in a hushed voice.

“You will catch right?” Nana said, hanging by the roof edge.

“I will, just jump.”

“Okay,” she said and scrunched her eyes, yet her hands only gripped the edge harder.

“Fuck! Will you jump or not?” he said, wanting to punch this woman’s head. The blast was loud, it must’ve attracted others. They needed to leave this place as soon as possible. “Frost.”

The little imp, dead scared himself, grabbed Nana’s collar, and amidst her widened eyes and blood-drained face, jumped off together. Both screeched at the top of their lungs as they fell.

Ewan caught them in his Ryvia and let them down gently. Their knees buckled and they collapsed on the floor, panting.

“You’re really dragging me down….”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.7

Anima: [Fire – 3.4 | Ice – 6.7 | Blood – 6.7]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Crelith: 4984

 

Spoiler: Chapter-55 Twin-Tailed Scorpions

Chapter-55 Twin-Tailed Scorpions

Two Twin-Tailed Scorpions roamed the streets ahead, their olive carapaces shimmering under the flickering streetlights. Four baby scorpions scuttled and hissed around them, playing with a blood and mud smeared half-dead puppy.

“Should we avoid them?” Nana asked in a whisper, hiding behind a building with Ewan, peeking out of the corner. Dirt smudged her clothes; streaks of wiped soot marred her cheeks.

Ewan glanced at Luna, dusting off his jet-black t-shirt, and adjusting his torn sleeves. “Can she heal poisons?” he asked.

“I haven’t tried yet, can't say for sure,” she said.

He hadn't tried it with Iris, so he wasn’t sure whether she could either.

“Those little ones are still infants, they’ll sell for a good number of Novas,” he murmured. “Too bad they’re not newborns.” He looked at Nana. “It’s your chance to prove yourself. Go, be the bait,” he said, patting her shoulder.

“What?” she whispered in alarm. “I’ll die in a second.”

“No, you won't.”

“L-Let’s do rock paper scissors. I’ll go if I lose,” she said.

“Fine.”

“Rock paper scissors,” they said at once and both threw rock.

“Again,” Ewan said.

“Rock paper scissors.”

…

…

…

Nana made a crying face, holding out a scissor against Ewan’s rock.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “Just to be on the safe side, bite this.” He took out a cloth from his claw-ring and stuffed it in her mouth.

It muffled her grumbles and whines and she stared at Ewan with a teary gaze.

“It’s clean, don’t worry.” Ewan laughed and slit his wrist with his obsidian dagger, and her eyes went wide.

Blood Rein!

He used all the Blood-Anima he had for the spell; it was the strongest it could be at this point.

Luna fluttered her wings and healed his cut with an aqua glow when the spell took out the needed blood from him.

“This’ll keep you safe,” he said and soaked her already dirty clothes with his blood blob. “Now go.”

……

Nana stood in the open streets, her chest heaving, her knees verged of buckling. She clutched the edge of her now blood-drenched ivory top and faced the hissing scorpions while her Astylind hovered in front of her, squawking.

Ewan hid behind a corner with the scorpions’ backs to him, his Ryvia covering Nana and the smeared blood on her clothes inside his spell’s range.

Dekoth.

Orange and Frost came out of their vortexes and stood beside him, prepared to pounce on the scorpions on his command.

Two scorpions, four pointy tails; they blurred when they stabbed Nana.

Go!

The blood on Nana’s clothes darted off and shielded her and Luna behind a concave barrier as she crouched, holding her head, the cloth in her mouth smothering her scream. Orange launched away at the same time, and using an invisible platform Ewan created with Ryvia, blasted down at one of the scorpions. His punch exploded on the scorpion’s head and cracked the asphalt beneath. Its upper carapace fractured while its bottom shattered, mushy brain matter splattering out with blood.

The tails collided with the blood shield and sparked as one scorpion lost its life and collapsed to the side, its limbs twitching for a second.

Frost acted in concert too and gestured for his spell. Sharp pointy ice-stalagmites sprung out of the ground with force and shanked the other scorpion, piercing its sturdy carapace from beneath. He waved his hands and hurled several icicles at the struggling scorpion, impaling its head and ending its life.

Hold them down!

Ewan broke into a run, his Spellbook flying with him, and restrained two of the baby scorpions with his Ryvia. They screeched and flailed but couldn’t escape. The other two had fled outside his range during the battle, so he left them to Orange and Frost.

“I-Is it all done?” Nana asked from behind the blood shield, taking out the wet cloth from her mouth.

“Yeah,” Ewan said. “You have the suspension spell, right? Cast it on the other two.”

Nana touched her tear shaped pendant and took out a thick white hardcover book, her Spellbook. Orange and Frost grabbed the thrashing baby scorpions by their tails and held them in front of her while she cast the suspension spell.

Ewan too cast the same spell from his Spellbook on the two he held down. And soon four frozen scorpion statues lay still on the streets, the last second of their struggle electing their quiet postures, not dead not alive, suspended in a limbo state.

“How much will they sell for?” Nana asked, putting her book back in the wine-red pendant.

“Don’t know, I haven’t researched their market.” He took out a cloth bag from his claw-ring and put two statues in it, leaving the other two for Nana. His claw-ring couldn’t keep the suspended Astylinds, so this was the only way to carry them. At least, they were sturdy enough and wouldn’t break easily. “Let’s find a place. We’ll rest for the night,” Ewan said, panning his eyes around the dark streets.

Because the trams stopped working, they hadn't traveled long, this was still their own zone in the residential block. Deserted and quiet, the blinking shadows of the walls were their only companions here. The pitch-dark corner ahead was an abyss with its mouth gaping, ready to devour them if they stepped forth. Not even the moths came to the streetlamps tonight….

“S-Should we ask someone for help?” She moved closer to Ewan, away from the dark corner.

“There’s no one here, they’ve all left. Let’s break into some place and spend the night.” The consecutive fights financed his Novas balance, but they also drained him, he needed some rest now. “Try this one.” He eyed the nearest house. Its walls were low, even Nana could climb over.

His instincts tingled when he helped her up the wall, however. His hands halted and he turned around, light on his toes to bite back if necessary. The dull currents down his spine warned him about someone, something, but there was no one here—not in his sight, not in his Ryvia. His nose twitched; a hint of minty smell tickled him. It wasn’t Nana, she smelled of night jasmine. Faint mist seethed in his mind, and his perplexed frown pulled on his brows. The drifting fog hindered his thoughts. And the more he mulled over it, the more muted his reason became.

“W-What happened?” Nana asked, her legs dangling on both sides of the wall. “I-Is someone there?” She shrank away from the dark streets.

“No, it must be my imagination,” Ewan said, massaging the bridge of his nose and turning to her again.

Was he too tired? He vaulted over the wall with ease and cradled her down on the other side. It was time to rest.

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.7

Anima: [Fire – 6.7 | Ice – 6.7 | Blood – 0.0]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 290
Crelith: 4984

 

Spoiler: Chapter-56 Brewed-Awakening

Chapter-56 Brewed-Awakening

Ewan and Nana relaxed in the only bedroom of the house, flickering candles lighting up the place—they found it in the hall cabinet. The much-needed breather eased Ewan’s tensed nerves as he sat by the door, leaning against the wall. Frost sat beside him, eyes closed, Ice-Anima surging around him, while Orange already snored on Ewan’s shoulder. These two fought alongside him in every battle, they were his vanguards, so they needed rest even more than him. But Frost insisted on training instead, his diligence sometimes forced Ewan to reconsider how he spent his time.

“Will you sell them both?” Nana asked, sprawling on the bed after finishing her bath.

“Hmm. I don’t have any soul essence left anyway,” he said. “What about you? You can still contract more, right?”

“I can, but don’t know…I don’t really like scorpions,” she said, twirling strands of her wet hair around her finger.

“You should get another one, your bird won't be enough.” He closed his eyes and adjusted his posture to move away from her, the floral sweet smell distracted him. “The two scorpions should be enough to buy a good one.”

“I’ll put them up for sale then,” she said and took out her hub-connector. Ewan too planned to sell his loot, but he wanted to record the cores’ details first for <Transmute>. So, he took out a new diary from his claw-ring and penned down the observations after using <Lens> on the Astylind Cores.

……

His shop in the hub remained bare as always. Without any shelves to put the items on display, he could only place them behind the counter and add his shop to the trade market. ‘Brewed-Awakening’, he named his shop in fancy fonts with two vials of potions crossed before it; ‘Potions on Order—Coming Soon’ went below as the subtitle. Selling the hunted Astylind Cores was a decent business, but the potion market had a bigger profit margin. Since he already delved into Potioneering, it was better to make it his forte. And when his success rate went up, he could sit back and rake it in.

For now, he listed the two Twin-Tailed Scorpions and the Astylind Cores for sale based on their market price and went to look for an automated worker. His Novas balance could only afford the cheapest one—simple transactions, no price flexibility. It would lose him some business, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He navigated to and from the marked seller. And after spending around a hundred Novas, an ocean-blue orb floated behind his counter, programmed to follow through on transactions if Ewan wasn’t in the hub.

The shop was almost set up and ready to start business. He only needed to get out of the hot mess named Obria and find a stable environment to make potions. Until then, the hunted Astylinds would sustain him.

…….

Half-burned candles lit the room, struggling against the whistling wind that crept through the crevices of the windows.

“You’re done? Did you sell them?” Nana asked with a pallid face when Ewan disconnected from the hub.

“Not yet. Did you?”

She shook her head.

Ewan expanded his Ryvia, covering the room, and trained his control. Frost was training, he couldn’t sit still either. “Do you have a shop?” he asked, compressing air in random places, and making invisible platforms. He also diverted his attention to the candles and sheltered them from the wind. The line of black ants in the corner didn’t escape his Ryvia either. The division did strain him, but it was good practice.

“I do, it’s on the market list too.”

“Name?”

“Hopes & Wishes.”

“Mine’s ‘Brewed Awakening’.”

She giggled. “Why the pun name? Will it attract more?”

“I hope it does, that’s why I chose it. Anyway, we can contact in the hub if we need to,” he said, maintaining Ryvia at its max.

“Should I change mine too then….,” she murmured. “Phones are still not working? Have you checked?”

“Doesn’t matter, they won’t work outside the walls anyway.”

The Ice-Anima billowed around Frost, the sudden torrent rippled Ewan’s Ryvia and attracted his attention. Nana too looked at the little imp. The Astylinds’ souls Frost absorbed tonight brought him to his peak, and the continuous grinding finally shredded the layer. He advanced to Level-4, and the feedback to Ewan’s soul swelled up. He was ever so close to his next awakening. Two more days…

“Did he break through? What level is he now?” Nana asked.

“Four,” Ewan smiled and said, patting Frost’s head and rubbing his baby horns.

She nodded with a blank expression. “Is it fast…I don’t know if I should be surprised…”

Ewan chuckled. “I don’t either, I never compared. But it doesn’t matter, we’re not in a race here.”

“My Luna’s only at the second level….,” she said.

“Did you give her any potion?”

“One Anima Potion, I’m saving to buy more now.”

“You don’t make it yourself?” Ewan asked.

“I’m planning on becoming an Artificer, like dad.”

“Give me a discount when I ask you to make me something.”

“You want to be a Potioneer?” she asked.

“Yeah, I like it, especially when I succeed.”

“Don’t you just like succeeding then?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Ewan chuckled and she laughed too.

Frost stopped training and opened his eyes, tugging on Ewan’s t-shirt and crying at him.

“Go rest now,” he said and sent Frost inside the ice rune. Orange already made Ewan’s shoulder his bed, mumbling in sleep, so he let him be and left him to his dreams.

“What will you do after getting out of here?” Nana asked, turning to her side, facing Ewan. Strands of her damp chestnut hair slid from her shoulder to neck, the clumped ends brushing away the droplets of water on her skin.

“Don’t know, travel to places, hunt, join expeditions perhaps, haven’t decided on anything yet. What about you?”

“I…want to kill someone first…,” she said.

“Revenge?” Ewan asked.

“Is it bad?”

“No, if it helps you with closure, it doesn’t matter how others look at it.”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.7

Anima: [Fire – 6.7 | Ice – 6.7 | Blood – 6.7]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-4] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 192
Crelith: 4984

 

Spoiler: Chapter-57 Revenge

Chapter-57 Revenge

“Do you remember May?” Nana asked.

“No,” Ewan said. “Should I?”

“She came over to play with us a few times, she was my close friend in school,” she said.

And he frowned. “Is she a Severynth? Or is someone backing her?”

“She didn’t awaken…but I couldn’t to do it before….”

“Do you want to give it a try now?” Ewan’s brows eased and he looked at her.

Nana lowered her eyes and nodded. “I’m a Severynth now, and you’re with me too,” she said.

Ewan chuckled. “Indeed. Our parents must’ve known you can't do anything without me, so they engaged us before it was too late,” he said. “I’m suffering such a loss.”

Her nostrils flared and she hurled the pillow at him. He caught it laughing and put it behind his back, cushioning his leaning weight on the wall. “Still though, let’s not act rashly. If you’re not sure of her background, let’s not act at all,” he said.

“She’s our headmaster’s daughter,” Nana said, grabbing another pillow and lying back again.

“That old squid face? Isn't he old enough to be her grandad?”

“She’s from his youngest wife,” she said.

“I see. That bastard owes me one too actually…no, forget it,” he said, thinking back to the Astylind he could’ve had. “He’s been a Severynth for a long time, don’t think about going against him. He even has ties to the ‘Dogs’ I heard, though that’s of no use now. Let’s drop the matter here for now unless you want us to die.”

“He never really trained his Astylinds….,” she said in a meek voice.

“Nana.” He stared at her. “Killing her won't bring back uncle and aunt, don’t let your emotions cloud your prudence. We’ll kill her later if that’s what you want, when we’re strong enough to go against that squid face. I’ll make it as painful as I can, I promise.”

“They died because of me…she made it happen. I-If…I came home earlier….” Her eyes misted and she choked up.

“You read the report didn’t you, they were involved in serious matters. Do you think the killer would’ve let you save them if you came back early?” Ewan said softly. “It’s not your fault they died, Nana. Listen to me, don’t chase this any further, we’ll just lose our lives in vain.”

She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed away, her shoulders trembling. Her muffled cries echoed in the silent room; it woke up Orange.

“Go back to sleep,” Ewan breathed the words and gently nudged his nose. The sad sight of Nana’s devastated and guilt-ridden back panged his heart. His empathy and emotions for her had long overpowered his reason. But was it bad… She wasn’t any stranger, she was Nana. Since that day seven years ago, only a few people dear to him remained alive. And now with Aunt Ella and Uncle Keith also gone, she was the only family he had…

Seconds gave way to minutes. Nana cried herself to sleep, and Ewan distracted himself with training. The candles persisted through the night, melting away, and only let up and died when the birds’ tweets welcomed the morning sky.

Yet, the rise of the sun missed the hubbub of the usual dawn. The streets stood empty, the dogs lost their bark, the air of desolation raced thick on the residential block.
Ewan squatted atop the roof, observing the corners and the straights of the alleys, when Nana stumbled out of the door, rubbing her puffed eyes.

“Let’s go, I’m ready,” she said, looking up at him.

“Go to the hub, sell the scorpions, and buy another Astylind.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, your bird’s not enough. And I won't be able to protect you every time,” he said. “Choose wisely, remember to buy the blood too.”

She nodded and went back inside.

……

[Astylind Name: Wood Squirrel]

[Astylind Level: Level-0]

[Astylind Grade: Grade-D]

[Anima Affinity: Wood]

[Gender: Male]

[Description: Natives of Airadia. Darlings of forests, they have average affinity (Recipient) with wood element but are highly efficient in managing Wood-Anima for their spells.]

[Grade-Exalt Requirements: Astylind Core (Wood), Aged Seed, Tree Sap, Sunburnt Leaves.]

[Remark 1: Fitting for a control type Astylind. Needs extensive nurturing to show any results though.]

[Remark 2: Can keep you entertained when you’re bored, useless otherwise.]

[Remark 3: Even if upgraded to a royalty of their species, they’ll still just be a cute pet to have by your side.]

[Remark 4: Have untapped potential, the extent depends on their master.]

Ewan gaped at the furless pink skinned newborn squirrel sleeping in Nana’s palm, wondering what she was thinking when she contracted him. Was this finger-sized creature going to protect her? He couldn’t even open his damn eyes!

“Very wise choice,” he said, his words laced with sarcasm. The best and the only options for contracts were the infants, the newborns, and the unhatched, in increasing order. So, no matter what she chose, it still wouldn’t be combat ready from the beginning. But a squirrel? Even if they were good at wood element spells, the meagre amount of Anima newborns had limited their effectiveness. Ewan hoped she would get an Astylind with a strong physique and of earth element, it could at least keep her safe in extreme situations after growing for a few days. Alas, the factor she considered wasn’t in sync with his at all.

“I-I couldn’t resist….,” she said. “I can train him, he’ll become strong.”

“When will that be? After we’re dead?” he snapped.

She lowered her head and fidgeted, twiddling the edge of her top.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Fuck it, I’ll make you an Anima Potion, mix a drop with his milk every time you feed him,” he said and walked back into the house. “You’ll be paying for its ingredients.” His voice echoed out. “And my services!”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Status: Healthy

Step-0 [3rd Awakening]

Name: Ewan Ayres

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.4

Spirit: 6.8

Anima: [Fire – 6.8 | Ice – 6.8 | Blood – 6.8]

Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
:Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [3rd Awakening]
:Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]
:Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-4] [Grade-C]
:Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-C]

Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.

Novas: 192
Crelith: 4984