“Are you sure about this?” Hector rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “For a bunch of normal people, it’s quite the trek to walk all the way to the Lower City..”
“With the three of us, I’m confident in keeping us safe. Don’t forget about the Blackwalls either.” Silas shrugged, double checking his revolvers.
Without something to organise the mutants, Silas refused to believe they had enough manpower to hinder them on their way down after the fight yesterday. If they were still stopped, they might as well just give up and die.
“Why come with me, anyway?” He looked up at Hector, flicking the cylinder back into place.
“You seem like a good guy?”
“Hard pass.”
Hector laughed, sitting down on the bench across from Silas. He was still wearing the same leather armour, only now it was covered in marks and holes. Faint runes shimmered on its surface. “No, really. You don’t seem like you’d give me up just for an extra two steps running away from something. Some of these other guys..”
Silas glanced at Cassandra as she walked by, his left hand twitching. He looked back at Hector with a nod. He understood. That was part of why he decided to leave. He didn’t want to end up the poor guy who died because someone else was told to ‘find a good opportunity’.
“You 18?”
“Huh?” Hector recoiled in mock offence. “Do I act so immature?”
“Hardly. I just barely know you.”
“And what, you’re 18 too?”
“Yeah?”
“Me three.” Lilith sat down on the bench next to Silas. “Every Wayfinder here is.”
Looking around briefly, Silas could.. see it. Lots of these Wayfinders looked very young, most of which were still going around with their family. Lilith, Arthur, Hector were all still with their parents. He wouldn’t be surprised if most of those who weren’t present yesterday simply didn’t want to leave their families undefended.
“That’s our criteria then, yeah? 18 with an innate talent? That’s the only special thing about us? Talk about lucky.” Hector rolled his eyes, summoning a small bell and playing with it on the table.
“Mh” Lilith grunted, knocking on the table.
“Maybe not.” Silas sighed. It was nearly noon now, and he had decided to wait just in case anyone else decided to follow. “It’s likely the Lotus sent us to worlds it believed compatible with us.”
“They had to send me to another world to find something I’m good at. Great. I should go tell Ma I’m one in a million.” Hector grinned, making the bell ring with a tap.
“Wait until I tell my brother. It’ll freak him the fuck out, that’s for sure.” Silas rolled his eyes. “He probably thinks I died doing nothing but making guns.”
“You make guns? That’s awesome! What kind?”
Hector was surprisingly enthusiastic about what he did and Silas certainly didn’t mind killing time. He couldn’t explain the why as to the bullets and how Deium Oil worked, but he practically disassembled Glass’ revolver on the table and put it back together again.
“Excuse me?” Valmor approached the table, a new bow hung over his shoulder while his arm rested in a sling. The Archer had taken a heavy hit in the fight and Silas wasn’t entirely sure what got him back on his feet so fast.
He looked up and met the man’s gaze, putting Glass’ revolver away. “Yes?”
“I’d like to come with you, too.”
“Huh?”
“I wish to leave.” Valmor looked around the table, then lifted his head and stared through the fog. Silas could see something flash within the man’s eyes. “This place.. Their way no longer suits me.”
“I understand sacrifices. Opportunity. But when we rely on the enemy’s mercy for such things, I no longer subscribe to the idea. I may as well follow the Empyreans if this is what we have leading us. They will at least treat us justly.”
Silas agreed deeply. Not to mention the fact that no one seemed particularly keen on finding out how Valmor was doing after the fight anyways. He wasn’t sure if Amus didn’t care or didn’t understand, but everything in this place felt transactional. It strictly relied on the idea of banding together for survival to stay cohesive.
Chances of a normal person making it to the Lower City alone or even just surviving alone were nearly zero. If that wasn’t the case, the guardsmen likely would have all left to regroup with their comrades. Without the guardsmen, this place wouldn’t have the manpower to remain operational.
At the same time, the longer he stayed here the more he realised that keeping the Refinery going.. Simply wasn’t that important. It kept the city powered, yes, but when survival was the issue, that mattered less and less. It was a trick to keep more people here with the idea it’s for the greater good. The revelations practically hit Silas at once, growing disillusioned with the place.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
He still couldn’t fault them. At the end of the day, Amus’ and the others still saved people. They might have done it to have more tools, sure, but they saved people. That’s why Silas wouldn’t make a fuss as he left. Glancing at the other three, he stood up.
“I was going to ask to make a party, then, but if you’re here..”
“I’ll join.” Valmor nodded, taking a long look at Lilith and Silas both. “Even if only briefly, it will allow me to see how it works. If that is.. Fine?”
[Confirming Wayfinders: Lilith Knight, Hector Green, Valmor Farash, Silvanus Albrecht]
[Would you like to enter this party?]
[Established Leader: Silvanus Albrecht]
[Y/N]
Thinking a quick yes in his mind, a strange shimmering block of text appeared in the corner of his vision. It had each member’s name, as well as a small arrow next to them and what looked like a green bar beneath. When he thought about the arrow beneath his own name, the box expanded.
[Alias: Sylvanus Albrecht]
[Title: N/A]
[True Name: (Forming)]
[Strength: Nine Gates]
[For ease of use, all Wayfinder’s strengths will now be recorded as the equivalent to the Main World’s path. This is the strength of their combined powers, not their highest cultivation base]
As the other three accepted and joined the party, he noticed that his own and Valmor’s green bar were slightly lower, a small half of it instead red. When he thought of the arrow next to their names, similar drop down menus appeared for each of them. Silas quickly understood why consent mattered in this case.
It still kept one’s innate talent hidden but it revealed practically everything else. Granted, Title and True Name appeared useless for now, but just knowing someone's strength was a massive advantage. It was basically a minor version of his own Reflection.
[The bar is something I have dubbed the.. Health bar. It allows you to see the condition your party member is in, in real time. Prior testing has deemed it rather useful]
[As per your requests, we have incorporated a method of communication as well. If allowed, you may communicate with party members as you do with me]
A symphony of ‘what’ echoed out in Silas’ mind, causing him to immediately and instinctually close off the connection. The four looked at each other in a daze before Silas opened the connection back up. After a few seconds, he looked at Hector and thought, “Hello?”
“Hello!”
“No need to shout.”
“Sorry!”
Silas rolled his eyes, turning to Lilith now instead. When he greeted her with his mind, she simply grunted in response. Internally. Somehow. Silas looked at her strangely before turning to Valmor and conducting the same test.
"Is there a range on this?”
[100 feet for now. As your soul gets stronger, so will the connection.]
Not just that, but after a few minutes of experimenting it became clear they could even send images over. It took an extreme amount of effort on the senders part and didn’t last long on the recipients part, but it allowed for quick transfers of information and even great scouting abilities. It could basically allow multiple people to scout at once, so long as one person did the legwork.
“Right, gather your stuff and then meet me by the gate in ten minutes.”
The Nightweaver stood and made his way back to the hut they called a room, doing a once over of all his belongings and making sure nothing was left behind. He put on a new, and his last, brown leather overcoat over a white shirt and black trousers. The two revolvers sat comfortably at his waist, while the Black Iron Blade hung right below the Noble Eye.
He wiped his glasses clean one last time and then left, heading for the gate with only a rucksack containing only the lockbox over his shoulder. When he got to the gate, he found nine people there. Hector’s family of six, alongside his three party members. Counting himself, they had ten.
“We’ll be stopping at the Apothecaries after we hit Blackwall. Any objections?” Silas spoke as the Sergeants opened up the gate for him, one of them offering a salute that he returned clumsily. “I need to pick something up that I left there.”
‘Works for me!’ Hector’s voice appeared in their minds at the same time, causing all three to flinch. After a stern knock on the head and a quick talking to, he learned fast when and where to use that privilege.
As Silas stepped beyond the gate and out into the charred, corpse covered street, he turned back to peer through the fences. Amus, Cassandra and Brightshade all stood in different places, looking at them with varying expressions.
Where the Dawnseeker was stone faced, Cassandra instead looked pensive; she even offered a small wave. Silas waved back and then turned towards Brightshade, who visibly looked displeased, as if not expecting them to really leave. That’s when it really hit for Silas, what they mentioned earlier.
All of them. Every Wayfinder.. Hundreds of people trusted their lives to those they’d barely even treat as adults. They didn’t know what to do or how to do it, just keeping people alive however they can until they can’t.
Silas sighed, waving to Lady Brightshade too. Not bothering to see if she returned the gesture, Silas led the small group down the streets with his Anchored Spirit Art active. With breakthroughs in both paths, it became a little easier and a little faster to do so, giving him relative clarity over any beings in the area.
They made it to the open sky section of Ironside and Silas let them take a small break at his old residence, meeting little in the way of mutants. He took the chance to gather some of his spare clothes and a little more food, then took the group back up along his route from days ago.
Still barren and still untouched, Silas found the lockboxes in exactly the same place he left them. Both Valmor and Lilith volunteered to open it, Silas agreeing to give a small portion to whoever did. After half an hour of attempts and the only time he had ever seen Lilith be flustered, the lockbox finally clicked open.