The third day of Aren's stay at Stormborn Castle began. He was slowly acclimating to the castle's confusing network of corridors and staircases. The servants, now recognizing him, greeted him by name with a respectful nod or a cheerful "Good morning, Sir Aren." He found himself surprisingly at peace. The warmth and acceptance radiating from the Stormborn family was gradually thawing the icy fortress around his heart. Back on Earth, the concept of family had been fleeting, a brief, cherished memory of his son's early years. The rest of his life had been a relentless, uphill battle against adversity and loss. He even began to perceive subtle alterations in his own character – a burgeoning softness, a touch of almost childlike naiveté, and a disconcerting willingness to trust others.
Could this be a physiological side effect of inhabiting this youthful body? Scientists back on Earth had long proven the two-way influence of mind and body. Hormones, neurotransmitters, cellular regeneration... it all adds up. Hopefully, my core personality, the sum of my experiences, won't completely dissolve under the influence of this adolescent hormonal cocktail. Or maybe... maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible thing if it did. Maybe a little less cynicism and a little more optimism is exactly what I need.
Morning began, as usual, with the training session in the courtyard. Leo was showing promising, albeit incremental, progress in concentrating Ether. Not entirely surprising, considering he'd been diligently training in its manipulation since he was a kid. Valerian, however, was unusually withdrawn and cloaked in a somber silence, likely a direct consequence of Jaxx'im's arrival. Aren suspected there was more to the story between those two.
Aren decided his body needed a dose of good old-fashioned physical conditioning. He opted for a standard, time-tested muscle-building routine, a short, focused session in the morning to prime his muscles, and a longer, more intense workout scheduled for the evening. He structured his morning workout according to the Pareto principle, a concept he'd always found useful: 20% of his time dedicated to traditional physical exercises, like push-ups and squats, and the remaining 80% devoted to Ether meditation. He'd flip the ratio in the evening. Despite his persistent efforts, he still hadn't made any discernible headway in absorbing or manipulating Ether. He could feel it, sense it swirling around him, but grasping it, drawing it into himself, remained frustratingly elusive. Still, he was pleased to have reintroduced strength training into his daily regimen. Can't hurt to have a little extra muscle, even if I can't shoot lightning bolts out of my fingertips.
Later, the Stormborn household gathered for lunch in the grand dining hall. Jaxx'im and Valerian were absent. The Veridian is probably locked away in his laboratory. Or maybe his kind only needs to eat once a day? Or perhaps once a week? I should really ask Darius about Veridian physiology. Isla, much to Aren's growing annoyance, kept on pointedly ignoring him throughout the meal. This was a stark and perplexing contrast to her usual playful and teasing demeanor. Kira, ever the astute observer, noticed the tension simmering between them and leaned in close to Aren, who was seated beside her. "What's this? Did you two lovebirds have a lovers' quarrel?" The usually stoic girl actually giggled, a rare and slightly unsettling sound.
"Lovebirds? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Aren replied, waving his hand dismissively in an attempt to appear nonchalant.
"Hey, Aren," Leo interjected, his youthful enthusiasm bubbling to the surface, "I'm really looking forward to testing that Ether measurement device Jaxx'im brought. The Veridians are always studying Ether, dissecting it, quantifying it. Jaxx'im will surely find a way to accelerate your progress."
"Yeah, I certainly hope so," Aren replied, forcing a smile. I'd settle for just a tiny spark of Ether at this point.
Darius, ever the diplomat, joined the conversation. "Our Jaxx'im is truly exceptional, even among the Veridians, in his unparalleled intellect and his boundless inventive spirit. I, myself, am quite eager to examine all the fascinating artifacts he brought back from his travels. Though, I highly doubt Duke Corvus would have allowed him to take anything truly rare or significant. We did, however, send a batch of our own carefully selected artifacts with Jaxx'im as a gesture of goodwill and a demonstration of our continued cooperation."
"So, Jaxx'im was the one who designed and created Valerian's armor? The one that appears to be crafted from solid metal, yet possesses the flexibility of velvet?" Aren inquired, remembering he has to gather as much information as possible.
"Indeed. He dedicated six months of his time, working closely with our most skilled blacksmiths, meticulously instructing them on the intricate processes required to work with such an unusual and demanding material. The end result is truly remarkable. Ordinary weapons simply cannot pierce or cut the metal, yet it doesn't restrict movement in the slightest and provides complete, full-body protection."
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Amazing. Earth still doesn't have anything remotely comparable to that. This world is full of surprises.
After lunch, Aren deliberately lingered in the dining hall, waiting for Isla to make her exit. Once she'd disappeared into the maze of corridors, he followed, quickly catching up with her. "Wait, we need to talk," he said, his voice firm.
Isla stopped abruptly and turned to face him, pointedly furrowing her brow and crossing her arms defensively. Her expression was a carefully constructed mask of annoyance.
"Did you talk to your father about your little adventure plan?" Aren asked.
"Father would immediately confine me to my chambers, place guards at my door, and throw away the key, as I already explained to you!" she retorted, her voice laced with exasperation. "He'd treat me like a child!"
Young people are so infuriatingly dramatic and impulsive.
"I don't want you running off on your own, Isla," Aren said, his voice rising slightly, betraying his growing irritation with her stubbornness. "It's reckless and foolish. I'm willing to help you, but only on one very specific condition: if the place you want to go is deemed too dangerous, I will go alone and find out whatever information you need."
Isla bristled, but reluctantly considered his offer. Deep down, she knew she didn't really have a choice. She'd been bluffing when she'd confidently declared she could handle everything herself.
"Fine," she conceded, her voice tight with suppressed frustration. She gave a curt nod. "Then let's go to the map room. I'll explain the details of my plan."
They walked in silence to the map room, the same room where Valerian had subjected Aren to a rather intense interrogation on his first day at Stormborn. This time, the room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, which streamed through the tall windows and illuminated the large table. Isla swiftly rolled up the familiar map of Ateria and pulled another from beneath the table. Aren immediately recognized the layout of the city they were currently residing in. The map was clearly labeled "Stormia."
Stormborn Dominion, capital city Stormia. Simple and straightforward geography, at least.
"My plan is to infiltrate the infamous Black Market," Isla began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor has it that it's a sprawling underground settlement located directly beneath our very city. It's supposedly the central hub for all criminal activity, illicit trade, and forbidden goods within the Stormborn Dominion. Father, of course, vehemently denies its existence, dismissing it as mere folklore. However, I've repeatedly overheard visiting merchants and nobles discussing the rumors in hushed tones. I'm going to disguise myself as a common adventurer and discreetly gather information at the Adventurer's Guild," she said, pointing to a large, imposing building clearly marked on the map, "And then I'll try my luck at a few taverns." The taverns were scattered across various districts of the city.
"The first step is to acquire suitable disguises, something that will allow us to blend in with the common citizens. Then, we'll head straight to the Adventurer's Guild and start asking around. We might even be able to locate an information broker, someone willing to sell us what we need to know. I've been carefully saving my allowance for just such an occasion," she added with a sly grin. "I've got a decent stash of gold tucked away, enough to bribe whoever we need to."
"Okay, and what exactly is the plan once we actually manage to find this elusive Black Market?" Aren asked, his skepticism evident.
"Once we're inside, we can discreetly inquire about the order to kidnap, or possibly assassinate, me," Isla explained.
"As I recall, those mercenaries were quite insistent that they couldn't leave without you. That suggests they were under orders to bring you back alive, not to kill you."
"Hmm," Isla paused, her brow furrowed in thought as she replayed the events of that terrifying night in her mind. "If that's the case, then such an order would certainly be known within the Black Market's network of informants. We'll attempt to purchase the relevant information, identify the individuals responsible, and then leave quietly and discreetly. The plan is practically flawless!"
"Hold on a moment. You're the Duke's daughter, Isla. Everyone probably knows your face. How are you planning to deal with that?"
"That's precisely why I need you, Aren," Isla replied, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "I'll conceal my face with a hooded cloak and a thick scarf, effectively obscuring my features. You, on the other hand, will be the one asking the questions. No one in Stormia, aside from a few members of the nobility, knows who you are."
Aren considered her plan, weighing the potential risks and benefits. Besides, there was a distinct possibility that they wouldn't even find this mythical Black Market. Escorting her into the city, at least, seemed like a relatively trivial undertaking.
"Alright," he conceded, "but if we actually manage to locate the Black Market, I'm going in alone. You will return to the castle. That is non-negotiable."
Isla frowned again, this time with genuine displeasure. "Hm... Fine!" she agreed reluctantly. However, a hint of excitement and anticipation still lingered in her voice.
"Agreed," Aren confirmed. "Alright, well, I gotta go find Jaxx'im. It's not even evening yet, but I'm already itching to get started, and I bet Leo is too. I should probably go first, just to avoid any unwanted attention. Kira's already starting to spin wild and completely unfounded stories."
"What kind of stories?"
"Don't worry about it," Aren replied, waving his hand dismissively. He cautiously opened the door and peeked into the corridor, ensuring that it was clear. Then, he stepped out and headed down the familiar path, determined to locate Leo and finally visit Jaxx'im in his lab.