No one hindered the loot division after the easy triumph. The shipmates even offered to carve Ewan’s share and deliver for free—he gave a nod. Instead of his share of the fins, the fangs, and the gills, he asked for more cores.
Krorkey had the natural ability to train with Anima, they had cores like Astylinds and many other Starons. But they were a Staron, not an Astylind. Was there any difference between their cores and the Astylinds’? Ewan had yet to hold a Staron Core, it intrigued him. Cerades mimicked this ability and created a core to train. They faltered, the incompatibility collapsed their path, but their thought process only added to his curiosity. Though it wasn’t a priority, he could study it in his off time.
“Ya got some skills,” Cork said, climbing to the poop deck where Ewan was.
“Is that envy I hear?” Ewan asked with a hint of a smile.
The captain chuckled. “I ain’t submitted to despair yet,” he said. “I ain’t givin' up.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Ewan said and walked away. “Find me if you need me, I can help for a price.” He waved a goodbye and went back to the room.
……
A week later.
The shoreline widened from a blip with the break of dawn, the ship’s shadow stretching its hands towards it, accompanying the cheers and the hoorays. Sailors prepared for the dock, and the captain stood tall at the helm, a smile lingering on his weary face.
“Home sweet home,” he murmured.
“How long will you stay?” Ewan asked, gazing at the shore that covered the horizon.
“A few months at least, maybe a year or more,” Cork said. “What bout’ ya? Staying in Drarith?”
Ewan nodded. He planned on staying for the time being, till he had enough information about the geography of this place at least.
“Come to the docks if ya need me for anything.”
“I will,” Ewan said and walked towards the main mast, where the exiting plank would connect the starboard to the pier.
The hubbub of the port soon faded in amidst the squeaking seagulls and the roaring waves. Different sizes of ships lined the dock. Some battered—some new. Some old and crumbling under the pressure of time—some young, ready to confront the ocean with fresh vigor. The crowd was a chaotic mess yet there was a sense of order in place. The horde at the fish market, the crates loading on the ships for export, the slaves lining up for auction… The shore inched in, and Ewan basked in the scenery that exceeded his imaginations.
The city sizzled on his tongue; this was the city of spices—Drarith. Unwalled and the only port city around, it lorded over the area. If nothing went wrong, he was going to stay here for a while, this would be his home.
While Cork sorted his slaves and readied for the auction, Ewan bid his farewell and took off. A permanent residence was ideal for the longer stay, but he settled for a good inn for now. They lined the streets near the docks, perfect lodgings for sailors who partied after their voyage. They all lacked the quiet Ewan wanted, so he headed further in. The spice market succeeded the pier, and the tingle in his nose worsened.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Bags of raw and ground spice were up for wholesale, slaves and workers lugged the packed crates. Yells, hollers, and shouts blended in with the customers bargaining back and forth at the top of their lungs, it all became indistinct and garbled chatter. He threaded his way through the crammed market, squeezing, pushing, all while protecting his sensitive nose with Ryvia.
Finally, after several minutes of battling the crowd, he navigated out and reached another street, heaving a sigh of relief. It was early morning; the place ran desolate except for the cleaners who swept and sluiced the paved streets. Kidd said the inns in this area were expensive but much better than those near the shore. The well-maintained buildings with properly scrubbed façade on both sides of the street verified his words, they were indeed much better. But this was still too close to the spice market, so Ewan took the empty tram and headed further in, as its rusted wheels squealed with each round.
……
Five Crelith coins per day, and Ewan rented a good room. A bedroom with a separate hall and a balcony that opened to the ocean. The single set of sofas and a table in the hall left enough space for his Astylinds to train and practice, and the bedroom was quiet enough for him to study in peace—it was coins spent well. Still, he couldn’t stay here for long, or his expenses would skyrocket. He had a lot to do, a lot to study, a lot to research, and a lot to brew, but earning Crelith coins weren’t among them. So, he had to manage with what he had.
After he freshened up, settled in, and had a spiced egg sandwich for breakfast, he headed out to roam the streets. Words were just words after all, they couldn’t do justice to the scenery of the city. Most of all, he had to validate all that Kidd blabbered about before making any move, not to mention he also had to register his identity here. Luckily, the city accepted foreign Ashevas with open arms, so his registration went without a hitch—he only had to give his name, age, and level.
It was the official registration, up next was the ‘unofficial’ one, a visitation to the one who ruled. As an outsider, greeting the lord of the city was the norm, and he didn’t intend to go against it. So, he packed twenty Novas coins and a hundred Crelith coins in two separate pouches and took the tram to the Ensil Villa. This much should be good enough as a gift for the first meeting, he reckoned. Especially, the Novas coins, which was a sign of his goodwill. Unless the Governor had a screw loose, he should accept his offerings.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [8th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.9
Spirit: 15.9
Anima: [Fire – 15.9 | Ice – 15.9 | Blood – 15.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [8th 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-8] [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: 74
Crelith: 4874