A morning walk on the top deck against the breeze broke Ewan’s torpor, it woke him up. He stood at the bow, facing the boundless ocean, the choir of the squawking seagulls adorning the backdrop. The ship sailed away from the dawn, westwards, renting the waters apart, yet the lack of a reference point stilled it against the endlessness.
“Had a nice sleep?” The captain climbed the stairs behind him and joined him on the bow.
“I did,” Ewan said, smiling.
“I heard ya fed our Kidd?”
“I shouldn’t have?” Ewan asked.
The captain broke into hearty laughter. “Ya can, ya can,” he said. “Did he keep ya entertained?”
“Very much so,” Ewan said. “I have you to thank for that I reckon.”
“Just bein’ helpful.” Cork chuckled and took out a damp cigar.
“Can I ask you something?” Ewan cast
“Mmhmm.” The captain took a deep puff, the red burned brighter, and exhaled. “Not our stop though,” he said.
“Why can't we see anything then?” Only water surrounded them, not even a hint of land appeared in sight.
Cork smiled. “The ocean remembers,” he said.
Ewan frowned and looked at him.
“It’s a folklore, a legend among the sailors and those who live near the ocean.”
“What does it mean?” Ewan asked.
The captain pointed ahead with his chin. “All ya see, it’s just an illusion.”
“You mean the horizon?” Ewan stared at that line dividing the sky and the ocean. “How?” he asked under his breath.
“Who knows.” Cork took another puff. “Must be some Anima shit, doesn’t matter much, we have our ways of navigating,” he said.
“Aren’t you curious?”
“Seen it my whole shitty life mate, already numb to it,” he said. “Not from around the ocean, are ya?”
Ewan smiled. “Discount if I answer that?”
The captain chuckled. “I’ll leave ya to your sightseen',” he said and walked away.
Ewan shook his head and observed the ocean again, his hands in his cargo pockets. If it was all an illusion, it must be related to Mystic-Anima then. But what did the ocean remember? It showed them the horizon, as if the world still traced a curve…
He reveled in the mystery, it excited him. What he was seeing could be a sight from the past, when Airadia was still a planet. Landscapes changed, people changed, islands emerged and drowned as Airadia advanced and became a plane, but the ocean still remembered….
This must go in his diary, Ewan grinned. No textbook could tell him about this, no lesson could convey the experience. His adventure so far had stood up to his expectations.
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……
“So, the idiot pissed his pants and ran back to his old dad,” Kidd said, gobbling the stir-fried crabs and veggies.
“Dad? Wasn’t he the grandson?” Ewan asked.
“Dad, grandad, it’s all confusing.” Kidd swallowed before stuffing again. “The old man was sleeping with his only great-grandson’s wife behind his back, who knows if the idiot’s his son or great-great-grandson,” he said.
Ewan lifted his brows at the unnecessary yet amusing gossip.
“He’s been pissing at our business for a while, trying to shut us down. If not for the old man, we would’ve fed him to the fishes long ago.”
“So, who is this old man?”
Kidd chugged down half a pint of ale and wiped his mouth. “He’s the lord of our city, he owns it. But he’s too old now, can't manage shit.” His face flushed and he hiccupped. “Cork respects him, he says the old man was unbeatable in his prime, but I don’t see it,” he said.
Ewan looked at his drooping eyes, this was it for today, anymore and the boy would pass out in his room—not a hassle he wanted to deal with.
“It’s enough,” he said, taking the pint of ale away from Kidd. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Now take the dishes away.”
“But I still haven’t told you about his daughter,” Kidd said. He blabbered as Ewan pushed him out of the room. “She’s so beautiful, I’m going to marry her when I become a Severynth. Wait!” Ewan closed the door in his face.
The day was still young, he could brew another potion for his body modification today. There was no benefit of choosing one over the other, so he picked at random—dark.
…
…
…
His routine repeated every day as he cozied up on the ship. From Anima Potions for his Astylinds to practicing his innate skills; from nurturing ‘Bloodlust’ to studying spell circuits; from chatting up the captain and touring the top deck to listening to Kidd blather away.
Continuous brews pushed his skill higher, he improved with each potion, and soon chipped down the attempt count to less than five for the modification potions. The ingredients expenses went down, productivity went up; his efficiency soared.
Dark potion—wind potion—earth potion—wood potion—light potion—lightning potion.
He knocked down one element after another and strode past the first layer in about a week, with only the mystic element left.
His Astylinds didn’t laze around either. The tiny room hindered their combat practice, so they strived to improve their levels, Ewan’s potions supporting them. Frost led the pack, Iris followed close, Orange too was diligent enough. Even Toast lay silent on Ewan’s lap and let his siblings train in peace.
They were all maturing; the notion grew in Ewan’s mind, but he snuffed it. The back-to-back dangerous situations forced their current behavior. Once he found a stable place and spent enough time in peace, they would go back to being the rowdy bunch they were.
Severynths were but nannies in disguise, his mind couldn’t help but wander.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [7th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.8
Spirit: 14.9
Anima: [Fire – 14.9 | Ice – 14.9 | Blood – 14.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [7th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-7] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-7] [Grade-B]
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Blood Lotus [Iris]: Step-0 [Level-7] [Grade-C]
Equipment: Common Clothes; Yurn [Neck Gaiter].
Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients.
Novas: 94
Crelith: 4984