The white-out stopped after a few days but the snow held the colony down. Since he could do nothing else, Ewan put all his focus into training his Astylinds and his own studies. And after a few drills in the basement, the Imp’s skill, Ice-Favored, distinguished itself.
If Orange showed his talent by instinct, then Frost, as Ewan named him, proved his genius by conscious actions. The Favored-level affinity boosted his knack with the ice element spells, the sheer ease with which Frost controlled the Ice-Anima surpassed the extent of Ewan’s rune.
Today too, they all remained in the basement. Ewan held Toast in his arms and fed him lukewarm milk while Orange rammed through the cardboard maze and Frost hurled a tiny icicle at the wall, grinding his casting stability. It exploded, and a few shattered shards pelted Orange who was preparing to start again. He halted, the ice shards melting in his fur, and turned towards Frost who stared back at him with an unrelenting gaze.
“Not again…,” Ewan grumbled as his two Astylinds jumped at each other with a feral howl. Frost grabbed Orange’s fur; Orange pulled Frost’s tail. They wrestled on the ground and rolled around. Frost scratched Orange’s back, Orange bit Frost’s neck; they both drew blood. Left and right, they rolled and tussled.
“That’s enough.” He was stern but kept his voice low for Toast.
The two broke free at once and stood upright in front of him, panting as their limbs shivered. Disheveled fur, twitching tail, they had their heads down but glared at each other from the corner of their eyes.
Ewan sighed with his head down, they needed to fight together in the future… He didn’t separate them when training with that in mind. It also fueled their rivalry, and they trained harder when together. But they were magnets, one hint of spark and they went at each other with ferocity. He overlooked their scuffles up to a point but had to interfere when they drew blood.
“Sit.”
He sat on the wooden chair he brought from the house and had them sit up on the table. After putting Toast on the temporary bed he made with clothes and a blanket, he cleaned their wounds and applied some antiseptic. Their vitality would do the rest.
“Hmm, go back.”
He patted them and the two resumed their drills. Sparks still flew between them at times, but no fights broke out. Ewan regained peace, at least for some time.
….
[Vin]
Residential Area, Zone-D.
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“Vin, did you wash my uniform?” Teal yelled from inside.
“Yeah, they were too dirty,” Vin replied as he gazed at the white snow outside the time-battered window. The heavy snow might not have affected the rich much, but it gave him a headache. His savings almost ran dry. He lied to his sister several times these last few days that they had enough, that she could eat as much as she wanted—he could starve for days, she couldn’t.
Luckily, the blizzard stopped, and the work would soon resume.
“You idiot, why did you wash them now?” she said. “They all froze.” She showed him the checkered brown skirt in her hand, frozen into a solid block.
“My bad. Leave them, I’ll deal with that later. What about your school? Still not open?”
“What, you don’t like me staying at home?”
Vin sighed. “Why’d I even ask?”
Teal pouted but still replied, “They’ll distribute the Astylinds soon, so it should open in a few days.”
Vin frowned. “Teal.”
“I know, I know, we’re selling that. I won't contract it, don’t worry.”
“Teal, we’re humans. We live our time and die; we can't become monsters.”
“Ah, don’t start your cult thing again. I got it already.”
Vin shook his head with a helpless smile. “Give me that.” He gestured at the hairband.
Teal was a head shorter than him; he stood behind her and gathered her long black hair. “Did you wash your hair?” he asked. They were wet, cold, and smelled of their usual shampoo with a strong hint of lavender.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t wash it so often, you’ll catch a cold.” He rubbed them with his t-shirt before tying them into a ponytail with the hairband.
“You’re so dirty, Vin.”
“It’s called being efficient.” He smacked her head.
Teal blew the hair strands that came to her eyes “Give me two Sols. I’m going out with Rynn,” she said.
“Where’re you going in this weather? Just stay home and study. Your finals will be soon, no?”
“I’m bored, we’ll only play for a bit. I promise I’ll be back before evening,” she turned and said with a beaming smile, the biggest weakness of her big brother.
Faced with that, Vin could only agree. He earned for her, if she didn’t spend it, who would. He only worried about not having enough food during the blizzard, so he cut down on other expenses. But the situation was improving now, things would get better for sure.
Yet, when he waved goodbye to his sister and closed the rusted creaking main gate, he received a mind-numbing message from work on his aged and bruised phone. The increased prices of raw materials cut into their profit shares. To maintain efficiency, they were downsizing, and they let him go.
…..
[Ewan]
Early morning, in the kitchen.
Ewan repeated the process with the seed and used the last container of blood he had. With his current nutritious diet and improved physique, he recovered from hypovolemia sooner than the last time. He was ready to contract his final Astylind now.
Blood splattered as the dagger ran down his wrist and he traced the spell circuit.
Contract.
As usual, the connection strengthened when the blood cocoon thinned, thread by thread. Soon, the spell ended, and the contract succeeded. The seed on the kitchen slab trembled and sprouted a tiny pale pinkish bud. A frail consciousness touched Ewan’s soul; he could crush it by mistake if he didn’t pay attention, as was the case with the plant types in general. Incoherent thoughts, basic instincts; that was all he received from the bud.
He frowned, because one word prevailed among those thoughts. ‘Blood’, the bud thirsted for it. Instead of the wood element, the seed was of the blood element. A blood-red spherical rune now gleamed in his soul space.
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