[Verina]
Obria ceased to exist, its survivors lost their homes, its inhabitants vanished into the unknown wild. The streets, the markets, the ruined society, nothing was familiar anymore.
Verina trudged through the aftermath of the survival game that took everything away from her. She lost her colony, she lost her home, she lost her hand, and most of all, she lost those stupid parents. She sniffed, keeping the tears in, as her eyelids weighed down and her eyes stung, as the painful thought crept back in. She never should’ve left them in the house. If she took them with her, they would still be alive…
No one knew what could’ve been though. No one in her group survived, even she barely made it through the massacre. Her Kyron parents had even less of a chance.
She lived, they all died. But her life wasn’t worth the price, she paid too much to live.
Her heavy steps dragged the loose soil, her dripping blood from the stump of her severed arm soaked it in a red trail. If she fainted because of losing too much blood, it would be a painless death. Now, she only hoped to find a place to lay down and breathe her final breaths. If those revered scriptures were true, if God didn’t mind her cursory prayers, she would meet her parents in the next world. Her life was short, but she still left too many regrets. Alas, her time was coming to a stop. It would all end now.
“Girl, do you really not want to live anymore?” An aged accent with a tired voice echoed around her and interrupted her thoughts.
She flinched and looked around. She might’ve given up on living, but the flickering flames of her will still resisted the unknown threat on its own.
“Do you still wish to live?” the man’s voice asked again.
“I don’t,” she said.
The man sighed. “This world is vast, girl; the nature is infinite. Do you not wish to explore it?”
“I don’t,” she said again, clutching her stump to slow down the bleeding, her eyes losing the torpor—her vision sharpened. Blood seeped through her fingers down to her elbow as the gut-wrenching pain coursed through her. Nevertheless, she persisted. In case she had to fight again, the blood loss would stumble her. She would die on her own terms today, no matter what. Her obstinacy blazed high.
“Infinity means limitless possibilities, girl, do you not long for something? Have you nothing that you desire? Nothing you failed? No one you want back?”
Verina wavered on his words, the implication of the infinite possibilities. Could she reverse time? Could she see her parents alive again?
“What do you want?” she asked. Nothing came free in this world—she lost her innocence and her immaturity to learn that.
“Fulfill my wish and I will give you a path to walk on,” the man said. “A chance to survive, and a path better than yours.”
Thoughts and ideas collided in her mind, she mulled over her situation and her condition. What else could scare her when she’d already accepted death, the recklessness and the rebel in her blood boiled and surfaced.
“Fine,” she said. “Show me the path.”
A faint laughter resounded in her surroundings as a drop of blood gathered before her.
“Accept this blood and all of mine shall be yours.”
She touched it and the blood seeped through her skin, staining her soul space a deep shade of wine-red. Her fire rune cracked and shattered, its shards flinging away to the limits of her soul, and the death of her Astylind rang the echoes of its wailing scream. The stump of her arm grew a root, the bone jutted out with the nerves and the veins flailing about—an embryo of her hand-to-be. She shuddered and collapsed on her knees.
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“My path is not of the Severynths’. Brace yourself to oppose the world, for this world is not kind to the Pathfinders,” the man said. “When you reach the strength you think is plausible, question a man for me. Ask him, why did he kill me? His name is Thain Cesar.”
……
[Ewan]
Kiev led the way and Ewan followed one step behind, admiring the simple nightlife of Drarith as the rugged saddlebag of potions scraped against his thigh with the footfall.
“Have you settled in?” Kiev asked.
“Mostly, yeah,” Ewan said.
Dim-lit lanterns lined the side of the streets, casting monstrous shadows with their fluttering flames—they danced with the flickers. Shops had shut for the day; the streets were empty. All of Drarith was at the bonfire whose sky-reaching flames reddened the grim darkness and washed away the looming depression. It was their respite, and they reveled in it.
“You don’t like that kind of stuff?” Kiev asked, looking towards the central plaza a few streets away.
“I’d rather brew some potions in that time,” Ewan said, hinting towards his Potioneering skill. It was the cornerstone he would use to mingle with the Ashevas of this city.
“Oh, a Potioneer? I would love to trade some potions in the meet then,” he said.
“I just get by. My skills might disappoint you,” Ewan said with a smile.
“You’re too modest.” Kiev laughed. “Even brewing a successful potion at your age is enough to be proud of,” he said. “We have a high demand of potions; you might find a good market for your skills here.”
“I look forward to it then.”
“We’re here.” Kiev entered an inn, ‘Traveler’s Bed’, as the sign said, and signaled the receptionist with a nod. She bowed, covering the valley of her chest, and led the two through the back door to a room with a round table. Gentle lemon colored light from the high-hung lamps ricocheted off the brick-design walls with soft ivory paint and gave the room a relaxing aura. The faint piano sound from outside lingered in the air while the hint of sandalwood accentuated the comfort.
“We’re the first ones?” Ewan asked and took a seat on one of the sofas, enjoying the new form of music. It resembled the classical from his colony but differed in several notes that intrigued him. He was unversed in the art of music but had the heart to appreciate its allure.
“Others should be here soon,” Kiev said and sat beside him. “Serve some snacks and tell Joel to continue. He’s playing quite well today.” He motioned the receptionist. She bowed again and went out.
“How many will attend?” Ewan asked.
“This is just a small meet for the new Ashevas to get familiar with each other, so there won't be many. All of them are Severynths actually,” he said. “My brother…well, my half-brother will also be attending for the first time. He’s a bit reticent, please take care of him.”
“Of course.” Ewan smiled.
Soon the receptionist led some people in with a tray of snacks and drinks in her hand.
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Status: Healthy
Step-0 [8th Awakening]
Name: Ewan Ayres
Species: Human
Vitality: 1.9
Spirit: 16.9
Anima: [Fire – 16.9 | Ice – 16.9 | Blood – 16.9]
Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0]
Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [8th Awakening]
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Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-8] [Grade-B]
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Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-8] [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: 6
Crelith: 4596