One hour later...

There had been no shame in admitting defeat. Passing out due to sheer panic on the other hand... might not be the kind of thing he would share with the other cores if he ever found another.

Finding more of his kind happened to be the last of his concerns, especially when he was still trapped in the dirty palm of some... thing? Seriously, his new captor couldn’t have bothered to wash their hands before picking him up?

He remembered how they had spoken to him, which would likely make them a member of one of the recognized races. That freak up above had told him there were ten of those.

Time to be honest with yourself. He had to think clearly and preferably quickly if he wanted to come up with some sort of plan.

I can't run away. Running was not an option without legs.

He had eventually noticed his captor's palm had become lit by the glow from his body. Which had in turn led to his most recent discovery.

Strange symbols had been tattooed across their gnarled skin, parallel lines that carried across one end of the palm to the other. What bits of exposed finger he could see had similar markings. The light from his body had reflected off the surface of each inky surface in an eerie sheen. He wondered at their significance.

After what had felt like hours of looking over the symbols, all in a desperate attempt to glean any sort of information about his captor, he had learned nothing. They sure do look cool, though. 

If I ever get out of this, maybe my own creations could have some… The hand that had had him enclosed tightened for a moment and both he and his captor lilted to one side. He felt ashamed that he had been caught by someone that couldn’t even walk properly. 

Focus. Can't run. Can't fight. Hard to take a good swing when he had no limbs.

No energy to build with until I'm under-- Just before he was about to give up hope and accept his life as a paperweight, he noticed something quite convenient.

He laughed to himself at his first genuine stroke of luck and reached outwards with his intent, as he had been instructed to, and then pulled back within his body. 

It had sounded pretty ridiculous when he had first heard about the process, and even more so when he had tried it in the bird’s nest. Until now. Now, he had realized he may be able to actually do it. 

The stingy bastard up above had been pretty vague about the whole absorption process, only briefly mentioning that for him to become rooted he would have to absorb the displaced topsoil after he had landed. He had been given a three-second explanation on what he had considered one of the most important aspects of being a core before that jerk had moved onto their next topic.

Disembodied voices be damned, he would make do with what he had been given in a world as unforgiving as his.

After he began, he had gotten the shock of his short life as he felt his vision automatically hone in on the larger flecks of dirt and debris on his captor's palm. Huh. That’s new.

Nobody had ever said how much dirt he needed to absorb to kickstart the rooting process. 

All of his smugness had vanished in an instant though, as he had just inadvertently forced himself to watch a horror show. Multi-colored tendrils of… gods know what had reached out and perfectly deleted every piece of dirt from his captor’s skin. It’s all gone.

He hadn’t even seen the pieces of dirt physically move, they had simply vanished. The once filthy palm had been picked clean.

As he acted quickly, mostly in an attempt to ignore his rising revulsion at the fact those things had just come out of him, he checked the status of his reserves now that he had actually absorbed some dirt.

Just as he had felt the hand gripping him tighten in surprise at the forced deep-cleaning, he looked over his newfound progress.

Whereas before, he would have said the ring was ten percent full, it now appeared to be a healthy ten and a half percent. Score!

Trying and failing to contain his excitement, he went over everything that arrogant bastard had said about the building process. It hadn’t been much.

After he had taken the dirt and converted it to his own reserves of energy, the next step would have been to focus his intent and visualize it within his mind's eye. Why is it that all of my supposed abilities involve thinking extra hard!?

Now that he had gone past the minimum of his reserves, he had given himself access to the core building process. Something he should have had from the get-go if you had asked him. Who kept track of such trivial things, though?

When he had initially asked the voice why he wouldn’t be able to access something so obviously vital from the start and needed specifically dirt, he had been ignored. 

Regardless of that pompous prick in the sky, defeating someone that could smother his entire body within their hand was not something he felt currently capable of doing. Which meant he had to find a way to escape after they had arrived at their destination.

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There had been no chance that he could have been created a living creature strong enough to pry open the palm and carry him to safety. Call it core intuition, but he knew his reserves just weren’t enough for anything so complex. Yet.

So, he was left with getting creative. If he had become destined to be some two-legged freaks next trophy, he would at least make it difficult for them. An image of what he had planned to build formed within his mind’s eye as he rushed to set his plan in motion.

His vision swam after the energy in his ring was all but bottomed out. For a brief moment, he feared he would lose consciousness again. Talk about embarrassing.

Ten and a half percent down to under one in an instant. It had taken everything out of him, but he had done it. He felt light-headed and even more vulnerable than usual, however, as though he had just left himself exposed.

The fruits of his labor had been undeniable. A perfect replica of himself sat opposite from him in the captor’s palm, glow and all. 

He happened to be quite proud of it... considering it had been his first real attempt at creating something of his own. 

It might be a lifeless hunk of rock, but it would still be enough to trick his captor, right? Of course it would be, his plan was foolproof.

Both he and his twin had gotten shaken and mixed up as his captor had was forced to adjust their grip, “You sure are lively down there! You know… I really can’t wait either.” Their voice had sounded full of hope and life. It freaked him out.

With only a small scrap of power left to his name, he felt as helpless as he had back in the nest. Only even more so, since he had unintentionally discovered whether or not it was possible for him to kill himself by using up all of his energy at once. Turns out he couldn’t. Whoops.

The fact that he had been able to understand the language of his captor worried him a little as well, truth be told. His greatest concern, however, would have still been finding his opportunity for escape.

During the time he spent traveling with his captor, he had heard nothing but the soft sounds of nature crunching underfoot as they went. So, when the sounds had suddenly shifted, he knew that they had finally arrived at their destination.

He had heard a creaking noise followed by a grunt, followed by a slamming sound, then all had gone quiet. He had been taken inside some evil lair, he was sure of it. Likely to be experimented on and used in some witch's potion, it had become about time to find out if his plan would work or not. 

With some luck, his captor would be too confused by his twin and toss one of them out. A fifty-fifty chance of survival had been better odds than any of the other plans he had been able to come up with.

Hey, what do you thin-- Ah!! He screamed out, not in absolute fear, as he had been unceremoniously dropped into a container alongside his imitation core.

“Well, that can’t be right…” Both he and his twin were in a shallow ceramic bowl, on a shelf in the middle of a small room. Please tell me they aren’t going to try and eat me. Please, not again...

He held his non-existent breath as he and his counterpart were both poked and prodded, likely to see who would have the best texture when being swallowed. He wouldn't be the one to give up the charade, he just hoped the other guy would keep his mouth shut.

He couldn’t help himself and he giggled at his own joke. Until the face of his captor had appeared directly above him, staring down in confusion. Focus, you idiot core.

Getting his first good look at them, he found an olive-skinned woman with an extraordinarily wrinkled face. Her forehead had also looked to be ringed in similar tattoos to the ones on her hand. 

While she gazed down at him, he could see the yellow-irises of her eyes constantly switching between him and his twin. She had a kind and patient expression. It was a very striking appearance for someone that happened to be pushing eight-hundred and thirty.

She looked... unbelievably old. He had been so confused by the sheer display of age in front of him, that he had forgotten he had been trying to stay unnoticed.

He had no idea how his lapse in concentration had given him away to his captor, but the moment his thoughts had strayed had been the moment her eyes had zeroed in on him specifically. He glared in frustration at his replica.

That annoyingly cheery voice returned and he sighed as her tattooed lips taunted him from above, “Oh my, yes.” 

She plucked out his twin without ever taking her eyes off him, “This will be quite the night.” The smile faded from her face as she leaned down and continued in a whisper, “I would appreciate it if you did not try to eat me again, though.”

Even without fully understanding what she had meant, he longed to say no just to spite her. She had just taken his first genuine creation and cast it off to who knew where, leaving him to deal with his captor alone and without any energy. Again.

He felt a pang of guilt for his creation. That had been his hunk of glowing rock dammit, not hers!

Before he could find a way to tell her what he had really thought about her request, she had already begun hobbling towards a wooden chair across the room.

While she made her way, his vision had become under assault by a barrage of color. What the-- 

A mane of white hair ran down the woman’s back, so long that it dragged across the wooden floor. Within her hair, interwoven and spaced only inches apart, flowers of every variety created whirlpools of color as she walked. It had mesmerized him instantly.

To a core whose only experience with the concept of beauty had been that of the setting sun, seeing the display had left him in awe. He had also gotten over it just as quickly. Stupid flower witch.

After the display, she had shuffled her hair until it rested comfortably beneath her while she took her place opposite his bowl. Her eyes had locked onto the bowl and his body once more.

After a contented sigh, she pulled a nearby piece of cloth over herself before speaking at him in a soft voice, “I have to admit, this is a first for me.” I don’t care.

She had leaned back, gazing out of the window to her left, “Is there any way for us to understand each other? If not…” She rubbed her forehead with a withered hand before continuing, “...we may need to get creative. At least, if we both want to benefit from this.”

The implication that the possibility he wouldn’t benefit from whatever was about to come had not escaped him. Also, he had belatedly realized he wouldn’t be eaten, but present circumstances had just changed dramatically and he had no time to celebrate. Being rational and honest with himself had been how he had managed to get as far as he had, so... why stop now?

She clearly wanted something that he had. Why had she placed him in a bowl of all things? What did she possibly have to offer him aside from simply allowing him to leave? What had she done with his twin!?

All those questions had raced through his mind while the woman waited patiently for a response that he knew he wasn't able to provide. Because he didn't have a mouth and the woman had been speaking to an inanimate pebble.

He wouldn’t have considered himself a vindictive core... and he certainly wouldn’t have said he was one to hold grudges over the past. Opportunities like the one he had been presented with did not come often, and in a world as unforgiving as his own, he had to take advantage of whatever stroke of luck came his way.

Why don’t you take your offer and shove--