Emela’s gaze rested on Nyx, her heart swelling with pain. It was wrong. Why should Nyx have to die for her decisions? It was so... wrong. Emela looked back to the city, holding back the tears that threatened to seep out.
“It’s just an idea, anyway. It’s not like I’m planning to do anything soon,” Emela said, raising her hand and pulling at the ends of one of her ponytails that rested on her chest. Knotted. She’d need to have Nyx redo them tomorrow; for now, they needed to go.
“That is true,” Nyx said, moving behind her. She grabbed Emela’s other ponytail and began undoing it. “You do have more pressing concerns at the moment.”
“You mean Hector’s operation?”
“Are you actually going to pickpocket those people?” Nyx asked. Emela thought she heard a faint accusation in the maid’s voice.
I don’t doubt I would lose some respect in her eyes if I actually went through with it. Oh Nyx, do you really think so low of me?
“No. I plan to just use some of my savings and claim that I stole it. We have different areas to work in any way, so they shouldn’t ask too many questions.”
“Would you like me to count it out?” Nyx asked.
Emela opened her mouth to speak, but paused. She could do it herself, but she didn’t know what was a good amount to bring. The last thing she needed was to come back with more money than anyone would rightfully have at a festival in the slums. No, that would bring too many questions—questions she didn’t want to answer.
“Yes, you can count them out,” she said, pulling out the last of her braid, letting it fall to the side in a blonde waterfall of hair. “I want it to look like we were effective, but not too much.”
“It will be done, Mistress.”
---
Red and yellow confetti fell from the sky.
Hector watched the lively flakes dazzle through the air, their beauty enhanced further in the bright morning sun. They had picked the perfect day for the festival. The weather was calm, with little to no wind, and the humidity was low—it was great.
The sound of various instruments beat through the air, colouring the noise of people with the soft undertone of rhythm. Hector crossed his arms as he watched the people enjoy the festival, showered in the flitters of red and yellow. People laughed and played and cheered and sang, going about their days with bright smiles.
Marcus—now much calmer than a few days ago—crouched behind him. He was looking at the lowest shelf of the stall—his father’s stall. Mr. Pennybrook had asked him to make sure that the displays were set up nicely. Which made zero sense. Hector had no doubt that the man had looked over them himself before even asking Marcus to do the same.
“They look good,” Marcus said, adjusting one of the talismans, named Slow Worm—apparently using mana to create worms that turned over dirt was a valuable skill. The thing sold for two silver coins.
If I sold at least ten of those, I could feed Mirae and Dad for at least three months.
But he would make more than that; he had to. He didn’t know how much money his father owed the collar gang—the man still wouldn’t even tell him what he owed them for—but he would get as much as he possibly could.
And his new talents would hopefully help with that. “I’m going to check on Mirae,” Hector said, walking away from Marcus, moving through the stall—which was more like a full-on shop than anything resembling a stall. He stepped through the door, and stopped, looking back, “Are you going to be alright with the rest?”
“Yeah, I should be. I’m going to give it a quick look,” Marcus paused, biting his thumbnail. “From top to bottom, then I should be in. Oh, and tell Delworth to bring me the list; I think one of these talismans should be inside the stall.”
“Will do,” Hector said, tapping the stall’s doorframe and flashing Marcus a smile. It was much better to see his friend like this. Focused. Determined. Driven. It was that Marcus that had actually shown Hector that there was more to this world than struggling with your fists—though having a lot of strength certainly made things easier.
Smiling, he walked further into the stall. It was cramped and shaded in a yellow hue from the lanterns hooked into various corners. Hector summoned his system screen and looked over his two new Talents.
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Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
///: Spark Capacitor: Once every 6 hours, the user may activate this Talent. Once active, the user’s legs are charged with energy, allowing them to move faster when running.
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///: Resonant Shout: Once every 12 hours, the user may unleash a focused shout at a single enemy within range. If the target cannot resist the shout, they are brought to their knees.
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He had grown these talents last night—it hadn’t taken him too long, and he even got in a good night’s sleep. He even put on another three talents to grow. The decision wasn’t too hard; two of them were just repeats of the smelling skill and the light ball, and the last was... disappointing. When would he ever need to hold his breath underwater? He hadn’t ever left the city and seen the great lake beyond the wall and probably wouldn’t for the foreseeable future. .
But these skills were different. Hector ducked under a lantern that hung from the stall-slash-shop canopied roof. With these two skills, if anything went wrong—touch wood—he would be able to flee with some ease. Though the cooldown was annoying. He’d have to choose wisely when he’d use them.
As he moved further through the store, he spotted Delworth. Dressed much more formally than he was a few days prior, he wore a simple white shirt overlaid with a black blazer and a pair of black trousers. On his feet were a pair of fine leather sandals—they made the ones Hector had on look like trash found in the dump, which would have been true. He didn’t have money to burn, after all.
“Delworth,” Hector called to the boy. He looked up from the talisman he had in his hand and smiled.
“How can I help you?” Delworth said, placing the talisman back on the shelf and walking towards him. “Is everything alright outside?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Marcus just asked me to get you. He wants you to bring him the list of talismans.”
“Oh,” Delworth frowned. “Is there something wrong with one of them? I told Uncle that the beast blood he got was bad. I should get out there.” He turned and raced deeper into the stall before coming back with a list. He brushed past Hector and headed for the door.
“Hold on. Where is Mirae?” Hector called. He had come to the stall with his sister earlier on in the day—she claimed that even though they were doing something wrong, it was still good to get a head start.
“She’s in the back with uncle. She is setting everything up,” Delworth called.
Hector shrugged and headed deeper into the cramped—yet organized—stall, taking in the different array of talismans all over the place. It was incredible. Even more so was the fact that this stall was only set up for the Hilda festival. Marcus’s father actually had a store at the edge of the slums.
It was a wonder that with all that money, he’d never once considered having Marcus cultivate. But then again, he was a businessman—besides, Marcus didn’t exactly have the temperament of a fighter. That much was clear, especially with what happened the other day.
Hector passed by the stall’s cash desk and stepped into its back room, dimly lit by lantern light, which jerked shadows all over the fabric walls of the stall. There, he found Mirae standing over a desk with Mr. Pennybrook beside her, showing her some talismans.
“This one here is called a stone skin talisman,” he said. “It is perfect for those who wish to forgo a shield and charge recklessly into battle.” The man, dressed in a smart shirt and tight-fitting blazer, with a pair of black trousers and shiny black shoes, smiled as he showed her his wares.
And for her part, Mirae looked interested; her white eyebrows were raised in delight as her purple eyes focused in on everything that he was showing her. Dressed in crushed brown shorts and a tattered white shirt, she was quite the contrast to Mr Pennybrook—though there wasn’t anyone from the slums that he wouldn’t contrast with.
“Everything alright?” Hector said, stepping down into the room.
Mirae turned, her face lighting up into a bright smile. She walked towards him, her waterfall of blonde hair bobbing as she went. “Yes, it’s great! Mr. Pennybrook was just showing me his work.”
“I saw that,” Hector said, nodding to the man before looking back at his sister. “And what did you think of the talismans?”
“They are incredible. I mean, I just recently became a Mana Cultivator so I can’t fully appreciate it yet, but it’s very impressive. I especially like the silent step one; it allows its user to cover the sound of their footsteps, allowing them to sneak around.”
“Why do you like that one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Mirae didn’t really have any reasons to be stealthy—no reason he knew about, anyway. As far as he was aware, she spent most of her time in the garden growing plants.
She chuckled shyly and looked at the ground. “Well, you see, there is a bird that comes to the garden every now and then, and I’d like to get closer to it. But every time I try, it always ends up flying away.”
Bird watching. His sister wanted to use a high-end product so she could sneak up on a little bird. Hector would have laughed if she didn’t look so cute. “Well, I’m sure one day you will get to see the bird up close, especially as your level of cultivation increases.”
“I’m sure she will,” Mr. Pennybrook said, walking over. “How is everything going out there, young lad? Has Marcus finished the checks?”
“Yeah, when I left, he was just finishing up, though he did say that there may be something wrong with the placements of one of the talismans.”
The older man chuckled, and a look of satisfaction came to his eye. “So, he noticed, did he? Looks like he’s on track to pass all my tests today. That boy is going places, let me tell you.”
“Tests?” Hector asked, turning to his sister in confusion. “What do you mean?”
The man shook his head and walked back over to the table. He began taking talismans off the desk that he and Mirae were standing over a minute ago. “It’s just some preparations I’m putting the boy through; he is my son and heir, after all.”
“Huh...”
“Hector!” a voice—unmistakably Jodie—called. “Are you hiding back there?”
“Big sister Jodie is here!” Mirae chirped, racing past Hector and out of the room.
“Ah, young Miss Meldish is here. What a treat,” Mr. Pennybrook said as he placed the remaining few talismans into a chest. “You go on ahead; I shall finish up in here.”
Hector nodded, turned, and walked up the steps, leaving the room. With Jodie here, that left Emela, Nyx, and Lincoln. The boy had said he would be late—he didn’t say why, but it no doubt had something to do with his mother. But Hector had a hunch he would arrive before Nyx and Emela.
Alright, I should go meet these two before Jodie can put any more strange ideas into Mirae’s head.