The tail followed him, and Ewan led him deep into the mountain forest, away from the walked trail, the hubbub of war fading away behind them. With the guard in tow, the cave was off-limits. But he still could pass by and check the surroundings, especially after he brought the leash under his control. So, he wandered around, minding his steps on the wet moss, hopping across creeks, stumbling across other residences.
“What’s your name?” Ewan asked, trekking ahead on an elevated path. The friction from the grass and the jutting stones supported their march, else the mud would’ve sent them slipping down to the flat end.
“Norton, sir,” the guard said, grabbing a branch and pulling himself up on the slope. His agility severely mismatched the armor he donned, yet the man shouldered the feat with ease.
“So, you’re originally from Drarith?” he asked. The span of his hiking through the forest with the guard gave him ample time to check and confirm the hand that Kiev played.
A locket hung from Norton’s neck, clinking against his breastplate as he walked, and the stone at the end of it was a Bonemetal ore—a dusty-white material that could react with Ryvia and the stimulated Anima and record the instance. If Ewan used his Ryvia on Norton or cast any spell on him, the locket would mark the change. It couldn’t show the details of the spells or what the Ryvia did but could prove that Ewan acted on Norton.
“I am… Most of us are,” the guard said. “Sir.” He added.
Ewan chuckled. “You don’t have to add Sir after every sentence.”
“We’re taught to do it, sir,” Norton said. “Once we stop doing that, our sense of difference between us might blur. It is there to remind us of our position, sir.”
“You don’t seem particularly happy about it,” Ewan said, giving Norton a hand after reaching the top, and hauled him up. Even with his dexterity, some high grounds were too much for his restricted joints and bends.
“Of course not, sir,” he said. “We’re all orphans of war, we couldn’t have lived for long. Yet Sir Ensil gave us food to eat, clothes to wear, a roof to sleep under, we’re all indebted, sir.”
“Did you have a choice in it?” Ewan asked, walking ahead again, towards a cliff that faced the Morinfair Ocean.
Norton followed him, and a minute or two of silence accompanied their muffled steps and the snaps of the twigs. “No, sir, I didn’t,” he said.
Ewan smiled, the more he dug into Norton’s emotions, the more his defenses crumbled down. He was almost there, but he couldn’t rush. “I only know one from your ranks. Lance was his name I think.”
“Yes, sir. He’s a stubborn one amongst us, quite staunch, he’s devoted to the Ensils,” Norton said. “That’s why he reached his position.”
“Do you mean you’re not as loyal as him?”
“O-Of course not, sir. I did not mean that.”
“Relax, this is only between us,” Ewan said, laughing. “So, how old are you? You shouldn’t be eighteen yet, right?”
“I’m seventeen, sir, going to become eighteen next month,” Norton said.
“Oh, did you awaken then?”
“I…did, sir. But I’m not allowed to become a Severynth.”
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“You’re not allowed? They even restrict what you can become? Quite harsh,” Ewan said, treading out of the forest and into the clearing before the cliff. The ocean sprawled before him in all its nonchalant glory, turbulent yet calm as always, its depth hiding another world.
The gale blew against him, fluttering his hair and his shirt, herding the salt with it, leaving a fishy briny taste in his mouth. While the waves crashed against the cliff wall, its deafening rhythm creating a melody with the wind, albeit the faint noises from the battlefield disrupted it.
“It’s how it should be, sir. They raised us, they get to decide that for us,” Norton said.
“How about I teach you the spell circuit here? Do you want it?” Ewan asked, looking at Norton with a faint smile, a curl of the lips that carried the enticement from the abyss. From sympathy to instigation to temptation, the combination would agitate Norton’s emotions.
“S-Sir, I-I’m not allowed to accept it.”
“Not allowed? So, you want to accept,” Ewan said, playing with the twisted words, dragging Norton down.
“N-No, sir, I meant I cannot accept it,” Norton stammered again.
Ewan chuckled. “I’m joking, don’t take everything so seriously,” he said.
“Of course, sir,” Norton said, and lowered his head, his chest heaving.
“Is no one among you allowed to become a Severynth then?” Ewan asked. “Not even Lance? Wasn’t he completely loyal to the Ensils?”
“It’s because we’re needed to maintain order on the ground, sir,” he said. “We can't do that if we all become Severynths. And Lance is our role model, sir, we all look up to him. He never said even a word of complaint back when the Ensils stopped him from becoming a Severynth. I won't either, sir.” Norton puffed his chest, raising his head, and took a deep breath.
Ewan gazed at the endless waters, the ocean stretching till the limits of his sight and touching the blue sky at the climax of its spread. It was a false horizon, yet so breathtaking.
“The ocean remembers.” His memories surfaced with the thought.
“If I was robbed of my chance of becoming a Severynth….,” he murmured, and remembered back to his days in Obria. His school did the same thing as the Ensils, only more subtly. He was desperate back then, so much so that he threw his hand into the blazing flames and risked losing it just for that small chance. He yearned for it; he craved it. His hunger from the depth of his core birthed recklessness; after all, if he wasn’t a Severynth, he was nothing.
He closed his eyes and felt the cold breath filling his lungs to calm his heart. He was stirring Norton’s emotions; it couldn’t be the other way around. “Let’s stop this heavy topic now,” he said. “Let’s just admire the view.”
As Norton nodded and walked forward, when he appreciated the ocean and lost himself in the vista, Ewan nudged the drenched soil in front of him with his Ryvia and collapsed that part of the cliff. The edge crumbled and plunged, and Norton fell with it.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [9th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 2.0
Spirit: 19.9
Anima: [Fire – 19.9 | Ice – 19.9 | Blood – 19.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [9th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-9] [Grade-S]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter]; Moonkeeper [Crystal-Ball].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals [Novas Coins]; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 65,145
Crelith: 3,887