Chapter 9: Gaining strength and grasping the three orders

The morning light was accompanied by waves and waves of heavy damp winds. People were already out and about on the streets, marveled at the last night's rain which was something many of them did not witness in decades. Some commoners carrying utensils, shoulder poles and buckets walked under the roof upon which Ssyba sat and contemplated. They made a commotion about the rain and the group was followed by some children who were playing in the puddles. By mid-day, it would all be dry again, so they rushed to recuperate as much as possible. Ssyba's moody expression lightened slightly, thinking that her animal metabolism and small frame did not require much water.

"My small frame might also prove to be a hindrance in the future," she muttered with a strange glimmer in her eyes.

She looked with a distracted, dour gaze, part of her mind focused on the things that she might expect going forward and trying to formulate at least the semblance of a plan.

Within her mystical gate the white cloud mana ebbed and swirled freely like mist carried by air currents. The uncomfortable breeze that ushered at her fur forced her to stop aimlessly pondering and move her thoughts towards her own, more pressing, business, particularly last night's battle and its aftermath.

"I thought you hated killing."

Those were the words that Ran, her eldest brother, spoke to Ssyba after the battle, where five nanza-cats had shattered a gremlin commando of over thirty in clear superiority of combat prowess and ability.

The words sank deep into Ssyba, doing a harsh exertion. Ran had assumed that Ssyba was concerned about killing, mostly because Ssyba had more than once expressed her unwillingness to kill. But that happened only because Ssyba wasn't needlessly cruel and even Fagan knew that she was more cautious than the average street nanza. Initially Ran had agreed to come to protect Ssyba and if need be, do her part.

"Let Ssyba do the small parts," said the monstrous Ran, to which Fagan agreed because getting Ran was his main focus and for acquiring his power, he would tolerate Ssyba's presence. Not that Ssyba was useless, but within the troupe, Ssyba was easily the weakest link. Even the gremlins had sniffed it out.

However, something quite unexpected had happened to Ssyba in the meantime (unbeknownst to her brothers) and in the end, she discovered that killing gremlins wasn't as terrible as she once thought. That, in particular, concerned her more than Ran's simple-minded assumptions.

"I must not grow to enjoy such a thing," Ssyba kept repeating as if to iron that sentiment into her psyche. If she were to truly gain divine powers through mana and vraja potions, the act of killing gremlins would be akin to stepping on ants. Thoughtless and more or less inconsequential because in the world of humans, beast folk represented no threat.

She looked at her earned assets again, this time with a determined sparkle. Of one thing she was positive out of all this bloody business: the act of murdering gremlins did not torment her as much as the rewards impressed her.

What did she need in order to become stronger? Resources and vraja potions.

Her share of the loot numbered many things and stuff that would have been considered trash, including mostly materials, chemical substances and various ingredients. Yet exactly these were the source of power for the entire human hegemony. The gremlins only used this stuff for trade, to blackmail or to secure resources for their sayadao. In this sense, they had a deeper understanding. The nanza-cats like Shan and Zioz couldn't understand their worth and Fagan himself wouldn't even associate himself with her in order to sell them for a profit. For him, these were nothing but cooking items and it showed his (and everyone else's) disinterest and lack of deeper perspectives.

For Ssyba, however, these were part of an entirely new dimension that she needed to traverse and learn it's patterns and measurements. The science of vraja potions was profound and it required continuous study, experimentation and trial and error out of her.

The first rule that she learned, potions equal power and power is the life-blood of this world. Would she even be alive today if not for the power of vraja potions? How does one acquire said power? By drinking the potion. How does one acquire the potion? By brewing the potion. How does one brew the potion? With mana and ingredients.

Ssyba was entirely clear of the system, the only issue was simply a matter of execution.

Another crucial aspect was her nature as a beast. To the rest of the world, there was no need to pay attention to one nanza-cat and invest interest into her. One would be inclined to see this as a disadvantage in gathering resources and accumulating power, but for Ssyba it was a paravan of safety. How could she have learned the basics of vraja potion brewing from Tisila, if Tisila hadn't deemed her base? Why did Izzmahil waste a healing potion of her, back then? Why, even, did Fagan's benefactor hire their troupe? The answer was simple, it was because they were beasts folk who could have no comprehension of such higher dimensions of the world.

Thus, Ssyba could act unobstructed under the cover of being an animal. She would be free as she always wanted to walk her own path and secretly accumulate an impenetrable foundation and a mountain-shaking strength. The most optimal route was to progress alone and work alongside Fagan for more benefits, to avoid any unwanted attention and suppression.

Ssyba shuddered, not merely because of the road to ascension laid in front of her, but because it was so steep. She felt like a worm trying to climb a mountain.

"Well, even a tree grows from a small seedling."

Ssyba inspected the strength vraja potion already in her possession. She had told Fagan nothing about it or what it was although he most likely knew. Glancing at it, she could see the mana imbued within this vial, its closed mystical gate and the strange symbols ascribed to it.

"It is time! Better now than later," said Ssyba but her voice nearly cracked.

Silence fell like a blanket over the entire world, over the loud commoners and their children. Ssyba felt a wrenching sensation within her invisible interior as though she tried to wrestle a vigorous fish on the docks and render it motionless. It was her own white cloud mana, she realized, nearly spilling out of her mystical gate. The uncertainty of drinking a potion touched her with wonder.

Slowly, Ssyba undid the cap from the vial. The contents smelled like spicy chili pepper and it was bright and fiery in color. She knew what she had to do.

Ssyba brought the vial to her mouth like a glass of nad'm and simply swallowed the contents in one gulp. It tasted pungent and heavy, sorta like garlic but clearer and sharper. She felt tears burning her eyes.

Almost instantly she had opened her mystical gate and the mana reacted. It misted and clouded like a hurricane flock of sparrows flying directly into the symbol that appeared beside her gate, empowering it. Mana went inside the symbol like water spiraling into a drain and the more it absorbed, the stronger Ssyba felt.

As the natural way of things stands in accordance with the great Yada, the body strength of a nanza-cat is far inferior to the body strength of an adult human. Even Ran, who was considered a tiger among cats, was only about as strong as an adult man and it was so only because of his wide physicality and mass.

Within a few breaths of time, the strength symbol on Ssyba had absorbed as much mana as it could, because it was only a grade one vraja potion, and it began to react and force changes and adaptations within her fleshy structures.

Ssyba felt an itch all over her body and across her limbs, then the itch turned into a slight pain as if from too much stretching, continuing in a pulsating manner as the power of the potion forged her muscles.

Strength vraja potions were not unbound vraja potions, but they were very valuable because as long as the user could maintain the caloric intake and be active enough to warrant such muscular strength, the strength gained could be used indefinitely. In this sense, the strength vraja potion acted more like a grade one hair growth vraja potion. Once used, the hair on the user would grow but it did not disappear even after the reaction was through.

Of course, this simple potion could not give Ssyba unlimited strength. It was only a grade one strength potion and it offered somebody more or less the equivalent strength of one man, when taking into consideration her mana quality. Even a small child could become as strong as an adult this way.

After drinking and using the potion, Ssyba developed to be as strong as Ran or an adult human, when it came to sheer output. It did not mean that she could suddenly fight Ran toe to toe. A strong person can carry another strong person on their back, but that did not mean they were equals in terms of combat ability. Ran still outmatched Ssyba in battle aptitude.

Ssyba's newly bloomed muscles reshaped her body somewhat, added some contours to her physique and she appeared more formidable, but she felt troubled. Her narrow frame remained a problem that she couldn't address yet. At this moment, her small body and slight silhouette became a true cause of concern.

"It seems like the reaction stopped," said Ssyba, observing the effects within her mystical gate. She finally gained the full strength this potion could offer.

The reaction only lasted for as long as it withdrew mana to sustain its effect. Once the reaction ended, the mana consumption subsided and effectively halted, and the reaction symbol also disappeared. This meant that reactions within one's body would only appear by the mystical gate for as long as they were in effect. Once the reaction was finished, the symbol disappeared and nobody could spy on her and discover her secret even if they searched with their soul's eye.

Ssyba closed her mystical gate and flexed her limbs and body. There was a new strain pulling at her joints and a vitality that she wasn't accustomed to.

"The potion worked! So this is what true strength feels like?"

Ssyba stretched out her arms, her sight fixated on her own muscular thickness. With a wicked smile, she embraced the truth of this reality.

***

Ssyba obsessed over mister Izzmahil over the next few days, and even during gaps in conversation with Fagan and the other nanza-cats of the assault troupe. How much should he be allowed to know? The fact that Ssyba has a soul and mana to spare, that was the fulcrum upon which everything rested, but realistically speaking, could Izzmahil leverage this knowledge to somehow entrap her?

In the moments before Ssyba went inside the warehouse to find Izzmahil, these sort of thoughts tortured her still animal mind. It was true that she valued freedom more than sheer power, so whatever business she would get to conduct to completion with either Izzmahil or even Fagan, her own kin, her own liberty will always be the most expensive coin to consider.

The warehouse was not particularly impressive but it was large and spacious and it hosted the wares of many different traders, complete with hired commercial workers and haulers going about their businesses. The whole structure rested upon thick pillars over a side canal of Na-jid, had three entrances which suited Ssyba and her purpose fine and the place was invariably crowded, as was everything on the docks and the markets of Yasha'Lafiq.

"Too many people mashed together in too small a place, surrounded by too high walls," contemplated Ssyba as she made her way like a slippery fish in between rocks.

"Hey you," called a tanned worker dressed in sweaty white.

"Yes?"

"What are you looking for?"

Ssyba wasn't the only beast and non-human doing business here, but nonetheless she felt extremely focused upon and highlighted despite the fact that so many others openly carried potion ingredients. She had brought her goods in a carefully packed velum and must have appeared confused, so she simply answered:

"I'm looking for mister Izzmahil if you know him."

"I do, come with me."

Ssyba relaxed a little and followed the worker, and sighed in relief when she noticed Izzmahil trading with another man some few paces ahead.

"That's two green tokens," said the worker.

"I don't have any," responded Ssyba.

The worker lowered his arms and leaned closer to Ssyba in an intimidating way, when Izzmahil suddenly jumped in between them.

"Hold it Murza! The cat's with me and doesn't usually trade with us, she's got no tokens right now but is here to get some."

The worker named Murza folded his arms across his white vest. He seemed indignant and dissatisfied by Izzmahil’s explanation. It was clear to Ssyba then, that there could be no meaningful communication between them. It was such a deep and wide misunderstanding that there could be no way of crossing unless Ssyba paid what was demanded.

She felt like she could kill him. New, sorcerous strength coursed through her limbs, true vraja power and she would have been aided entirely by the element of surprise, but she wasn't completely confident first because of the height and weight differences between them, second because she was sure that others would jump in to beat her up senseless, third because there was no actual insult or slight done against her. If she attacked, she would then simply be considered a typical nanza troublemaker and would get rounded up by the police and dealt with accordingly.

After a long, solemn silence, Murza moved out of the way. Ssyba saw him working his jaw and felt like he wanted to spit on her and if he did, she would have thrown the velum and jumped for the kill, caution be damned. Fortunately he did not.

"Come," urged Izzmahil.

Ssyba followed but her eyes kept following Murza out of wariness.

"I'll inspect whatever it is you have and I'll give you tokens for it, fairly. But regardless of how much you earn, you'll go find Murza right away and give him two green tokens."

"Right," said Ssyba at length.

"And next time don't accept nothing from these unbathed whoresons unless you come clearly to trade with them. It's how they shake beast folk out of their tokens without a way to retaliate because they'll skin you if you even raise your eyes disrespectfully."

Ssyba laughed and revealed the contents of her velum.

"Any reason why we haven't traded at Tisila's house?" cautiously probed Ssyba.

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"Tisila doesn't want you anymore," said Izzmahil. Ssyba shrugged at the fact that Tisila wanted her out.

"Also, I don't usually carry tokens with me openly. Nobody does, you'd be wise to follow my advice. And surely I never carry more than I need at Tisila's."

"I understand. Are all transactions done with tokens?"

"Everything that concerns vraja potions, yes. Oftentimes the values are too astronomical for money and humans prefer to carry a few tokens on a ring rather than bags and bags of coins for ingredients and whatever else they need."

Ssyba glanced all around her and saw what was being done. Tokens came in grades, just like vraja potions. Green tokens were the lowest she inferred, and they concerned the trade for grade one vraja potions and materials.

Izzmahil took over the ingredients. Many were trash, merely dry useless leaves and skins and stinky bones, but Ssyba couldn't have known that so she grabbed anything that she could carry. He grimaced a number of times as he combed over the opened velum, but that told Ssyba little. The badau's expression was invariably a grimace and it only seemed fit for him as part of that harsh race of men. Few things in the Alyriam desert were more terrifying than the badawin. Even the princes paid respects and traded openly with them, paying with untold riches to woo them and keep them from wandering without returning to Yasha'Lafiq. In a way, the badawin were solely the blood of Alyriam and Yasha'Lafiq, bringing in precious things from all over the desert and its hidden wealth.

"Three murmured Izzmahil."

"Three what?" winced Ssyba with a pang of disappointment. If all this hard work only amounted to three green tokens, two of which she would have to pay Murza, it would be a let down.

But Izzmahil merely ignored her and went on with his accounting. There was an off putting moment of silence, interrupted only by the shouts and clatter of trading done all around them. Roars of laughter, or pleading, or begging or working or demanding, all around Ssyba, men were doing real business with objects of divine power. She glanced with her soul's eye and studied the mystical gates of her surroundings.

Such a thing was never part of Ssyba’s reality. The way she understood it, the world only had two dimensions. Things near and simple, and things far and mighty. The near was family, species and kin, survival and the inane struggles of beasts. Food and shelter was the main subject of discussion. For female nanza-cats it was mating with the strongest males, and the males concerned themselves with combat and imaginary territories in a world of borrowed things. Fagan, for instance, with all his talents and boisterous talk, was only a house pet. His "territories" were human streets in a human city, and only because humans were doing something else, accumulating true, heavenly power.

These were once the far things: concept after mysterious concept, impenetrable strengths to beasts and animals. The first prince ascending after dominating and slaying the previous owner of the First Throne, malevolent powers granted by vraja potions, mana quality and potion grades with which one person could rival a nation, schemes atop schemes.

Ssyba felt very small.

"Hmm, that's one I think," mindlessly talked Izzmahil while picking various materials, and it gave Ssyba some comfort knowing that the man was serious about this business.

And then, there was a moment of enlightenment.

Ssyba wasn't small. She suddenly felt very large, like a source of light seeping through the cracks of a wall that could no longer contain her. Larger, in fact, than Yanamusad, the first prince. Looking at Izzmahil doing his job and feeling the strength of the potion adding tensions in her bones, the world suddenly collapsed. Those high and powerful men were as petty and contemptible as any gremlin, their riches were only the human versions of the rotten fish that the nanza battled for. Their high fortresses and palaces were on those same streets where Fagan acted as king of the nanza-cats. The First Throne was no more precious to humans, than what the good spot on the docks to catch fish heads was to nanza-cats.

Ssyba realized that she had complicated all aspects of her life. The world did not even have two dimensions. It only had one: scale.

Izzmahil eventually stood up and had a vague expression on his hard face.

"I'll take the velum as is, but know that there is also much trash," he said while sweeping the ground with his boot, throwing all the trash directly into the canal.

"I counted and here's the value of your stuff: seventeen green tokens and two yellow tokens. I almost gave it three yellow tokens but I wager you'd find green tokens more useful for now. Is that alright?"

"It seems fine to me at first glance," said Ssyba, while containing her excitement. "But why is it so? How much does everything cost here?"

"This bundle of purple thorn petals costs one green token."

"For all that?"

"Yes, it's mostly what's commonly known as filler material in potion making, it's not useless but it grows everywhere and people only buy it out of convenience and to save time. See, this one here is white crystal-claw dust, it's very expensive because even if you have just a little clear spring mana, you can add this catalyst into the vraja potion and have it act as a reaction amplifier. I gave one yellow token for the jar even though I could have found it for five or six green tokens. I can't be bothered to search the markets for too long and I'd rather see you grow your capital…"

Izzmahil continued to explain. He secretly observed Ssyba in the meantime and noticed her intelligence and composure, deciding to help and invest in her. The materials that she brought were also useful and key ingredients in popular vraja potions such as hair growth, night vision, adhesive honey, hair armor and so on, so he paid her fairly because the affairs of this world were fickle, and he counted on Ssyba feeling indebted to him. Still, as a renegade badau and a favored trader in the eastern square warehouses, he couldn’t brazenly assist her because it could leave a bad impression to others.

Izzmahil counted the tokens which were small metal tablets of various measurements and colors. Green was the cheapest, used frequently in trading grade one vraja potion materials. Yellow tokens came after. There were also equivalent rates, where one could spend many green tokens to purchase as much as one could with a single yellow token. These rates varied from place to place and depended on many things, such as the age of materials, number, the mood of the trader and so on. Generally speaking though, the rate was seven to one.

Izzmahil arranged Ssyba's tokens on a token ring, whipped a ribbon of red and blue cloth from a pocket and made something like a sash for her to wear across her chest and shoulder.

"Don't be careless. These are more valuable than coins."

Ssyba thanked him and turned to leave, when Izzmahil grabbed her by the shoulder. Out of instinct, Ssyba shrugged his hand off but due to her enhanced strength, Izzmahil was slightly taken aback.

"What did you do?" he asked with eyes wide from shock.

"Mister Izzmahil, if I have no strength to build upon, how would I protect myself in this world?"

"But why did you drink a strength potion and you didn't bring it directly to me?"

"Because I have worked very hard for these gains, but I found my foundation lacking and I nearly paid with my life for it!"

"Is that so…

Izzmahil relented and nodded, but his eyes showed disapproval. Ssyba saw it and laughed bitterly in her heart. Every human, she realized, would have had this attitude towards her becoming stronger. Without personal understanding and experiencing the impoverished lives of animals and non-humans, it was hard for them to understand the importance of having a strong foundation upon which to build recognition. Fagan earned the respect of the nanza-cats of Yasha'Lafiq due to his strength and combat prowess, and Ran was so mighty that he gained Fagan's respect. It all boiled down to strength for the nanza and ultimately, nobody could blame Ssyba for lacking foresight.

The truth was, for somebody untutored like Ssyba, building basic strength and elevated physical standards was more important than the other more subtle aspects of vraja powers. Ssyba's words were very sincere and they made sense from a simple-minded point of view, but Izzmahil couldn't help but narrow his eyes. He never would have imagined that Ssyba would be so bold as to actually gain direct power from vraja potions. In his mind, he imagined Ssyba to use her unique situation to create an easier life for herself, not audaciously charge into the den of lions that was the human society.

"So what are you going to do from now on?"

"I'll steadily build my wealth with your help and guidance master Izzmahil, and accumulate upon my strength and power if at all possible."

"Building wealth is the proper thing to start doing first. Without wealth, how can you even consider anything else?" said Izzmahil with proper arrogance. "But be careful who you're targeting next. The river God only knows that I want to see less and less gremlins roaming Yasha'Lafiq in the night, but even the princes would think twice before angering the Cultelari."

"Please advise me further, mister Izzmahil."

Izzmahil cleared his throat before starting to teach.

"It is very important indeed to build a proper foundation, but Ssyba, that is reserved for the elites and professionals. Do you know how expensive it is to maintain power? Us commoners have no place up there."

Ssyba had an inborn bestial fighting nature that wasn't easily subdued, it was only natural for her to focus of combat and battle utility, but she did not even stop to consider the other aspects of powers. Vraja magic was boundless, thus it was split into three main, broad orders:

Brewing, also known as the first order, was the study of material selection, gathering, storage and preparing. But as was the case with all three of the orders, they all split into many branches. Brewing was also the study of recipes, improvements and optimisation in mana consumption, proper measurements, reverse engineering already existing potions whose recipes have been lost in time, ingredients farming and so on.

Drinking (the second order) studied the methods of obtaining powers from vraja potions and some of its many branches included timing, mana consumption, mysticism and proper optimisation. Experts could close their mystical gates while the reaction still absorbed mana, so they could only obtain a different or a reduced effect for less mana consumption. Sometimes, the full effect was not even truly desired when something similar could be achieved with a smaller quantity of mana, allowing proficient scholars of this aspect to perfectly squeeze and reap every benefit at the lowest cost possible. These experts excelled at prolonged battles and wars of attrition.

Lastly, the third order was the usage of vraja potions, and it also split into many categories including attack (which further split into smaller branches such as ranged, medium and close range, elemental, physical, mental and so on), defense, healing and recuperation, movement and many others. Attacking might sound appealing to somebody like Ssyba but just as an example, those who specialized in healing have always been in high demand regardless of mana quality, having a grand status among their peers.

Ssyba nodded continuously. Saying so, Izzmahil paused and looked at Ssyba with a meaningful gaze. He had met hundreds of people in his long years with the badawin and even after he left them, and could somewhat understand where Ssyba was coming from. He was not surprised at all that she snatched the first opportunity for gaining direct strength without any sense of measure and discernment.

"So what do you think?"

"The possibilities are endless," said Ssyba as determination showed upon her face. "After hearing all this, I have gained much insight."

"Yes, but none of it applies if you have no wealth to support your needs. Look at them," said Izzmahil disdainfully nodding at the workers passing by. "Do you think any of them are concerned about these metaphysics? It's expensive to maintain a set of reactions within your body. Your strength right now, how much do you think it will last? It was unwise to rush it, you could have sold me that vraja potion for at least two hundred green tokens!"

Ssyba rubbed her nose:

"I am still thankful for your advice mister Izzmahil, but I will follow my own path. Others might not be concerned because of difficulties, but precisely because of that I will. Challenges are difficult but you can only gain accomplishments if there is a challenge!"

Izzmahil stared at her in a daze, unsure of what else to say. He had taken such a long time to introduce Ssyba into the metaphysics of vraja potions as a way to dishearten her, yet he did not expect his work to turn her mind in the opposite direction. To him, Ssyba functioned on foreign principles to his own. His thoughts were the truth that applied to most humans. They focused more on wealth, riches and luxury, building generational wealth and resources. What good is it for somebody to be able to lift like a bull? It has no intrinsic value! Valuables, possessions, assets, cash, these were quantifiable. Principles such as strength were only surface level, in truth, they served the capital as much as anything else. Izzmahil smirked in himself thinking that if humans did not have the all-powerful mana to spare, as an animal they would be closer in temperament to the mystical dragons. Hoarding, judgemental, filled with an air of superiority. Perhaps that was the reason why dragons were such a popular art motif.

"You would fit in with the badawin. They cherish this romantic frame of mind," smiled helplessly Izzmahil.

He then sighed deeply.

"Never mind me, I'll help you to the end, but first you do your part and pay Murza what you owe him. I vouched for you after all."

After they finished talking for a while longer, Ssyba thanked him and left with her earnings. Seeing her walk away, Izzmahil’s forced smile vanished and his expression turned solemn, swearing in his heart. This Ssyba was really a troublemaker out of touch with reality. He had judged her intelligence correctly but there was nothing simple about her character. Izzmahil hated that sort of attitude. The badawin were full of these zestful dream-warriors, he had had enough of them and their overwhelming push for attainment and execution. "Resource vacuums" he had called them, reckless spenders and general fortune chasers who created hard times due to their maneuvering.

Izzmahil could not stand it at all!

***

Ssyba was suddenly awake. The city smelled like hot stables in the late afternoon and the air was usually heavy on the breath. Bells began ringing some distance away calling for those who paid respects to the sun, as opposed to those who paid their respects to the river, to bid farewell and pull the veil of darkness on its bright face. Ssyba used some nad'm to rinse her mouth and she discovered that even if she had the cash for water, it was its tonic astringency that she preferred.

By the time she had finished waking up and stretching her limbs off the accumulated stiffness, the streets below were no longer alive with voices, shouts and commotion, but growing more and more silent by the minute. Ssyba waited until the street had cleared fully before jumping off the roof directly on the cobblestones. Her increased strength made it much easier to perform these physical feats, despite the fact that it tired her more, so she needed to learn how to regulate her strength.

She slipped along the street sides, sticking to the shadows and the corners where she could, and stalked silently under the dark and stained building walls otherwise. She nimbly avoided the areas swept by the elemental hounds and those frequented by the law enforcers. Then she raised her eyes on one of the main arteries, she saw a patrol of policemen spying on her from up ahead. They must have noticed her because they quickly rested their hands on their beating sticks, but made no further advancements. At first Ssyba feigned indifference, walking past them without as much as exchanging one glance, but very soon the pretense became the thing itself. What was there to even be afraid of? She remained conscious of their eyes upon her, but only as an insignificant peripheral burden. Her mind was swimming far from her cursed, base world.

As she regained leadership of herself, Ssyba felt a profound sorrow but had not made half a step before she was seized by an equally profound joy. The burdens of life seemed to be lifted from her at that moment. Indeed, what was there to be afraid of, for someone like her who had Creation itself branded inside her mind's eye? Suddenly, the cool midnight air seemed to be made expressly for her, fresh and bathing.

Ssyba jumped away from the principal road and climbed up on a fence, where she waited for her prey with blessed patience. There was a change in her eyes, watching all sorts of commoners and non-humans finishing their businesses and heading back home. She even spied a nanza-cat up and about who knows where.

"There they are," wheezed Ssyba under her breath as two household gnomes took a corner and walked towards where she stood hidden.

Gnomes were truly worldly beings who loved the inner workings of all things, having an innately curious nature and remarkable intelligence. Some older gnomes even stood as scholars and researchers into vraja metaphysics though they themselves were lower creatures with no soul. They were very hard workers and loved by everyone, especially humans who used or employed them in quantities to work as vraja potion brewers. The second prince Medzanalfif even nurtured a few ancestries of gnomes upon his domain and he mobilized them in his many businesses to work as budgetaries on projects and operations that stimulated their passion.

These two seemed to discuss something important as evidenced by their faces tightened like a fist in concentration.

"Master's maimarandir has stirred once again and it murmured. According to its calculations, although we'll be spared 'till this year's celebration, the planetary collision storm will arrive in nine tenths of a year from now."

The other gnome frowned and asked:

"Is your master definite in these deductions?"

"Eighty percent positive, he told me."

"So soon…"

"Take heart, he doesn't expect it to be of extreme consequence. But although the storm itself won't endanger Yasha'Lafiq, it could still reduce its might significantly."

"Still I remember the herald storm," said the other gnome with a pang of sorrow in his voice as hopelessness seemed to steal at his nerves. "If that was only a subsidiary of the real planetary collision storm, what can we lowly folk do?"

"Master says we should at least give the first prince the benefit of the doubt because he puts a good price on our services. Surely he has an eye for the useful. Hey, who are you?"

One of the gnomes was slightly surprised by Ssyba's sudden appearance right when she jumped and landed in front of them. But he calmed down and relaxed his eyes and face and was just about to say something when Ssyba quickly grabbed him by his long hair and pulled him forward. With inertia and using her massively enhanced strength to drop it like a melon, Ssyba cracked the gnome's skull upon the pavement. He went limp on the spot, dead.

The other gnome was too disturbed and stunned in disbelief to do or say anything, as they were often reasonable creatures who could hardly grasp savagery. A crisp sound, and the scenery changed upside down as his neck was broken.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but he collapsed on the ground.

He died with his eyes staring wide at Ssyba, trying his damndest to understand his killer.