Izai watched as the Taur rolled around in the grass, clutching his side. For a moment, the Kin’s wailing almost tugged at Izai’s heart, so much so that he was almost compelled to help. But he’d already wasted too much time.
He sprang for the exit. Just as the moon, stars, and the rest of the outside world came into view, he heard the Folk chatting away in the darkness. He ducked behind a trash can. The game must’ve been at halftime.
He downed the last sip of Pure-Sap he had. The sensory overload hit him like an Air Push, and the stench from the trashcan made it all the more unbearable. Beneath him, he could feel the chaotic movements of animals and Folk.
The Folk’s footsteps had an erratic rhythm – feet dragging, stomps to punctuate words, and impatient foot-tapping as they waited for the other Kin to finish speaking so they could get their point in.
Izai tiptoed away, ducking from a trashcan to a bench, then to a bush. The only beings that noticed his presence were the animals. The Folk that were meant to be on duty were either too drunk to care at this point of the evening or had been preoccupied by thinking of ways in which the Saints could still make a comeback.
“You know, a couple of Taur in that midfield wouldn’t hurt,” Izai heard one of the Folk say to the other as they urinated by a bush. “I mean… think about it. No really. Yimani has always been more diverse. We play and get along with everybody, unlike those old kingdom snobs. We should be the ones with the best players from all Aradahi.”
“You reckon?” the other replied downing his beer bottle. “We already have a lot of Folkling on the team. And we had that one MegaFolk girl.”
“We need more… Folkling are good for speed but… but…” he drank a swig from a liquor bottle, “but did you see those Taurs on the Celestials? Fuck…” The man suddenly screamed in frustration.
“We might make a comeback,” their voices faded as they walked away before they began that laugh, that sad, hollow laugh that often ended with a sigh.
Izai finally made it out of the zoo. By then, the Pure-Sap had worn off. As he climbed into Gale-Cart, Olav whipped his head back from the front seat. “How did it go?” he said turning down the radio when he noticed the state of Izai’s clothes. “Fuck, what happened?”
The pain had finally caught up to Izai. His abdomen throbbed so badly that every breath felt like another one of the Taur’s horns ramming into his core.
“Taur. Must’ve been Pureborn. Got. In. A. Fight,” Izai forced out. He pulled out the feathers and held them up.
“Good job my friend,” Koralo said.
Another strange sensation crept in, an unbearable itch that regular scratching couldn’t satisfy. The itch had grown so intense that Izai Pushed Fire into his palm, running his hand across his skin in hopes that it would somehow soothe it.
“Don’t do that, friend. Your cells are settling,” Koralo warned.
“What?”
“After big fight with Pulser. Your Essence and Cells still move around. Need time to settle.”
Izai still found speaking a labour. “What do you mean? I’ve fought Pulsers before. This has never happened before.”
“Pulsers with no skills, yes? Probably thought they were using Pulse when using regular moves.”
Izai didn’t buy it. He had been in four different fights with Pulsers and felt every punch, kick, and slap. More importantly though, is that he had won them all. Granted, three were against Primeborn Mythics, and he had relied on his Pushing to keep his distance. The last fight, against a 1st Dominion Pulser, had been the hardest, though once again he was the victor. However, he’d later find out that the man had been high and had he been the slightest bit sober, Izai would have been crushed like a bug. But to him, a win was a win.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“How long will this last?” he tried to ignore the itching.
“All night, friend. This is easy part. Hard part when it feels like squeezing.”
“Squeezing?” Olav asked.
“Yes. When it’s settling, it’s like Pulse,” he said, mimicking the motion with his hand, clenching and releasing his fist. “It squeezes and lets go. But with more pain. Now shh…” He turned on the radio just in time to hear the Saints were now six down.
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At the entrance to his apartment, the usual group of Folk gathered, trying to give him a hard time. They huddled in front of the doorway. “There’s a fee to get in now. I’m sorry new administrative rules. Price is 1 Yibi. But… since being a maid for the MegaFolk pays really, really, fucking well, we’ll just say 10 Yibi is a fair price,” their leader Li spoke.
Izai didn’t bother answering. He stood his ground, staring at him, unmoving, until they eventually stepped aside laughing.
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The next morning, Izai stood on the Northern Skyway of the stadium, facing Laelia. Behind him, perched on a ledge swinging his legs was Olav with a cigarette in hand.
“You have to do a hands-off approach now,” Laelia mumbled, her eyes fixed on the tiny cracks in the ground.
“What do you mean, hands-off approach?”
“We’ve been talking,” Olav chimed in from behind. “After your stunt with that suit last night, no more baby steps. Just suck it up.”
Izai glared at Olav. ‘Why the hell would you tell her about the illegal thing we did?’ He tried to will the thought into Olav’s mind, however, he was only a Mythic Puller, after all.
Olav shrugged as if he had received the message however.
On the train ride home, Izai rested his forehead against the glass, feeling groggy – not just from the previous night’s fight, but from the morning session with Laelia. The Pure-Sap had left him in a foggy state. He glanced over at Olav, who was smiling, gazing at the outside world.
“You’re in a good mood,” Izai mumbled.
“It’s pretty sunny today,” Olav responded.
“You don’t like the sun.”
“I like it in doses.”
Izai sat up. “You told the MegaFolk girl about what we did?”
“The MegaFolk girl?” Olav repeated, offended. “First, she’s a Kaisita. Second, her name is Laelia. And third, I asked for advice to make sure you’d be safe with the Pure-Sap and the suit.”
“You told her before we even did it? What?”
Olav raised his eyebrow and leaned forward with his arms resting on the table between them. “I know you think I’m an idiot, but I’m not that stupid. You do know she’s Remi’s niece, right?”
“What difference does that make?”
“She’s probably heard of worse crimes –”
“—You can’t go running your mouth to every girl that gives you attention, man,” Izai interrupted.
Olav bit his lip, shook his head, and turned to look out of the window.
Izai shook his head also and looked outside the opposite window.
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Later, Izai lay slumped on Tai’s sofa, the last place he wanted to be, especially with proof of him being in a serious fight.
“Will you be reimbursing me for all my Saps?” Tai asked.
“Take it out of my pay when we hit it big,” Izai responded.
“Who said you’ll hit it big?”
“You wouldn’t be wasting your time for something that’s going to lose your money would you now?”
Tai smiled as he laid out all the ‘natural’ Saps – Fire, Ice, Air, Earth, Water, and Vine – in separate jars. Each had the same orange gooey consistency. Izai tried to focus on the Vine-Sap. He had once heard that if you looked close enough, the liquid would resemble a tangle of knotted branches. But he couldn’t see it.
“Ah, the healer,” Tai sighed. “Not as glamourous as the coach but still an important member of a successful KY fighter’s team.” He dipped his fingers into the Water-Sap. “When I pacify, the Water-Sap will help me understand better where you’re hurting, okay?”
Izai nodded, terrified. He’d been Pulled on before, but never with Sap. The scent drifted into his nose, clouding his brain in a thick smog. He felt almost numb for a moment, then a wave of contentment hit him before returning to his usual self.
“Got what you were looking for?”
Tai nodded and dipped his fingers into the Ice-Sap, wiggling them as began to Pull.
As the scent drifted up his nose, suddenly, the world didn’t seem so bad. The pain from his cells would heal in time. The mission they were planning would go off without any problems because surely Koralo knew what he was doing. And the fight with Olav? That could be fixed over a few drinks in the park.
“You had a lot on your mind, huh?”
Izai smiled.
“You, young ones often do. Now, tell me – what really happened last night? Don’t want to waste my Saps trying to pry the truth out of you.”
Izai had to fight off the urge to spill the truth. Something about the Ice-Sap made him want to confess to everything. It felt like the most logical thing to do.
Instead, he offered a safer truth. “I fought a Taur last night at the zoo.”
“How come?”
Izai didn’t want to answer that. “I think he’s a Pureborn.”
“A Pureborn working at the zoo? Wonder what he’s hiding from.”
“He’s around my age, I think.”
“Interesting,” Tai’s voice perked up.
Izai sat up knowing this is what Tai was looking for. “He’s definitely a Pulser,” he said, running his hand over his throbbing stomach. “He used his Push to counter mine at one point. So that’s two out of the three Arts, I guess.”
Tai froze, a slick smile spreading across his face.