His sweat froze on his face, his wet hair iced. A hint of heat still sauntered inside his body, as if he ran a super marathon. He lay motionless on the recliner, his chest heaving. While Frost stood on the table, controlling the Ice-Anima to maintain a low temperature around him—his focus was Ewan’s head.
Two parts of the first layer ended after the fire potion modified his heart. Fire-Anima and Ice-Anima suppressed the Blood-Anima in his body but remained in harmony with each other now. Once he recovered, Ewan tried nudging both Anima, his shoulders tensed from the fresh memory of the agony—he gently tugged at the Anima before he fully employed them.
His body still resisted their movement, but the incomplete spell circuit in his heart nulled the friction between them. He eased up and heaved a sigh of relief. This meant he could cast fire and ice spells from now on. Their effects would diminish because of the resistance but he wouldn’t experience the agonizing pain anymore. It would be same as when he cast
Eleven elements, eleven potions; two done, nine left. The rest he could complete over time, but he needed to finish the blood potion before practicing his spellcasting again.
And he had to prepare for his second awakening too. Frost leveled up over the last few weeks, he was now Level-1. Much to Orange’s dismay and annoyance, he also grew taller and came only a bit short of Ewan’s knees. His growth shot up the feedback Ewan received, but he was now at a standstill. His ‘Spirit’ reached 2.9 and stopped growing. A paper-thin layer blocked his soul from getting stronger. He needed to break that.
Not tonight though, the tussle with the potion wore him out. Breakthrough could wait till tomorrow, tonight he would sleep like a log.
…..
Spirit like ripples, Mr. Worth often said. It was the most efficient method to break through the initial soul blockades. Ewan sat in the basement, his hand at his navel, his eyes closed, his breaths routined. The frigid floor chilled his bum through the black pajamas, the silence rang in his ears, and his heart thumped in a rhythm.
In his soul space, the transparent puddle of spirit reflected the three elemental runes floating above. Orange, White, Red, they glowed with different halos. Ewan concentrated on his spirit puddle and plucked the center, the puddle rippled but had no effect on the blockade. Ewan plucked his spirit again, and again. The ripples resonated with each other and became violent waves with each shock. The puddle billowed but couldn’t grow, a metaphorical film broke its advance.
He lost all sense of time, but it should’ve been less than an hour since he started; his stomach had yet to growl. His temples ached but he didn’t stop. He still had enough stamina to continue.
Time passed and his stomach finally rumbled. His spirit puddle also erupted at the same time and clobbered his head. He jerked back, his nose bled, his ears buzzed. His body exuded a sickening sweet smell again. He’d become insensitive to sweet taste because of his change. But he could still smell the overwhelming syrupy sweetness coming from his body.
The puddle of spirit grew, and the feedback from his Astylinds flooded in again. He wiped the blood off his lips and nose and cast
…
…
…
His ‘Spirit’ soared to 3.2, his stagnant ‘Vitality’ also went up to 1.3. And his status showed ‘2nd Awakening’ now.
It was a matter of celebration but the crisp doorbell reverberating in the empty basement cut it short—it was a handy and neat feature that Ewan discovered in the control panel.
“Nana?” He received an unexpected guest once he opened the door.
“You still call me that,” she said with a sheepish laugh, twiddling her thumbs. It was Havanna, his always drunk neighbor, his fiancée, and the person he was once the closest to. The dark circles under her eyes, the wilted hair, the chapped lips, the dry skin, and the lingering scent of liquor—she looked haggard in her casual pajamas and worn-down slippers. Even her voluptuous figure couldn’t counter that.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“You’ve grown taller,” she said. “I have to look up to you now.”
“I have,” Ewan said with a smile; he was half a head taller than her. “Come in.” He led her through the courtyard and inside the house, her bulging pocket scraping against her thigh and clattering as she walked.
“You awakened?” she asked.
“Hmm, a while back, this was the second.” Ewan nodded, the sweet smell around him was hard to miss. “Don’t mind the dust,” he said, slapping the sofa and fanning the brown cloud away with his hand before sitting her down. After he poured her a glass of water, he took a seat on the opposite one.
“Did I disturb you?” She held the glass with both her hands. Her knees huddled together; she sat on the edge of the sofa.
“You didn’t, don’t worry,” Ewan said.
She nodded and sipped from her glass, staring at the floor. The familiarity and the closeness they once shared was no more, the awkward air had long seeped in between them, stemming from the lack of interaction for years, especially during the time they both changed.
“I-I wanted some advice.” Her voice shook and dimmed down.
“About Astylinds?”
Her shoulders tightened; she gave a meek nod.
“Go on,” he said.
“I-I wanted to buy one. H-How do I do that?”
Ewan stared at her and exhaled a sigh.
“Nana, buying Astylinds like that is banned. You should know that.” She was focusing on law studies in the first institute and was good at it. Between the two, she was more of an expert in this area. “Unless you convince someone to give it to you for free, there’s no hope. You can't find it even on the black market.” He received Orange like that, so the loophole could work for her too.
She tightened her grip on the glass and bit her lips—it bled. “Is there really no other way?”
His eyes wavered as he stared at her devastated figure—that desperation, that hopelessness, and her desolated spirit teetering at the end of its road yanked the skeletons of the emotions buried in his heart. He couldn’t bear to see her this way…
“What happened to the one you received from the school?” he asked.
“I-I didn’t receive it.” She shrank away.
And the hall hushed as Ewan lowered his head in deflation, his eyes closed; her situation was too similar to his…
“Did you open your soul space?” he asked. It had been about a year since her eighteenth birthday. If she hadn’t opened it, there was little hope for her now for the Severynth path.
She bobbed her head.
“There might be a way then, but I can only be a mediator.”
She beamed; her eyes opened wide. “R-Really?”
“Can you afford it?” he asked.
“I should have enough.” Her chapped lips broke because of her smile, it bled even more.
“You can't buy it with Sols.” He got up and fetched her a lip balm from the kitchen, gesturing at her lips—it looked too painful.
“I-I have the crystals.” She took out the bulging pouch from her pocket and handed it to him before applying the lip balm.
“You shouldn’t carry it around like that,” he murmured and weighed it—about a third of what he had. Whether it was enough to buy an Astylind from the hub or not though, he wasn’t sure. If it wasn’t, he could add from his stack…
“I’ll see what I can do. What kind do you want to buy?”
“Any will do. I don’t have any preference.”
Ewan nodded. “I’ll contact you later then.” He returned the pouch and escorted her out.
“Nana,” he said when at the main door, and she turned around. “This is not a charity. I’ll cash in this favor one day.”
“I-I understand,” she said in a faint voice.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.3
Spirit: 3.2
Anima: [Fire – 3.2 | Ice – 3.2 | Blood – 3.2]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-0] [Grade-D]
Equipment: Common Clothes.
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector.
Novas: 84
Sol: 36