Viridescent light danced across the room from the half open closet. It painted the bed and nightstand with a spectral glow, and nipped at the edge of the hall that led inside. Caught only in the dim reflection was a small couch and end table, nestled between the entryway and the mirror door of the closet.
A mechanical clack echoed in from the front door, and powerful white lamps illuminated the space. Hitori walked inside and tossed a bundle of gear onto the ruffled covers of his bed. He stripped the remainder of his armor, adding to the pile, then grabbed a few items from the closet and disappeared into the hallway.
After a quick shower he returned once again to the bedroom, grabbed a pouch from his closet, and dragged the pile of equipment from his bed to the front of the couch. He sat down and began absentmindedly tending to it; sewing, cleaning, and oiling where appropriate.
He just finished a debriefing with Gustaf Foster, the academy headmaster. Well, he called it a debriefing, but they spent more time chatting about Hitori’s mother than they did the events of the Wychwood. Apparently, Maia had been a real trouble maker during their school days, and she used to wander about the forbidden forest on her own.
It was pretty typical for conversations to turn towards his mother, the legend. For once, Hitori was glad of it. He felt strangely reluctant to talk about what really happened in the forest, especially with regards to the giant spider, Wickham. Every time he thought about him, Hitori felt a twinge in his stomach, and a cool sweat on his palms.
The fucking bug really pisses me off.
The half tree creature had been ugly, certainly, but Hitori couldn’t believe he’d been afraid of him. He paused the ministrations of his gear and pulled a small stone from his pocket, holding it in front of his eyes. It fit nicely between the tips of his fingers, too lumpy and rough to call it a definite shape. Golden light seemed to shimmer within.
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He discretely pocketed the yellow gem when Newton helped him up, and so far hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. Why was he so reluctant to share his suspicions about it, he wondered.
Hitori was confident the tiny rock was, in fact, a tag, which allowed Wickham to communicate with and control other creatures. If so, it would be incredibly valuable, but that was no reason not to tell Foster about it. He would get the bulk of the money for its sale, or could even keep it. Nova only wanted to know about things like it so they could be studied when they weren’t in use.
There was no reason to keep it a secret, and yet he’d done so anyway, even from his own team. For a moment, Hitori considered the possibility the stone was somehow influencing his behavior.
What a crazy idea.
Highly unlikely. Still, he placed it far away on the end table before returning to his gear. He attached a new Stim pouch to a hip strap while thinking about the lucky guy who would eventually find his lost Dragon Stims.
After an hour of work, he returned everything to his closet and slid the mirror door closed over the squat tower of greenish vials on the floor. As he walked to his bed a puzzled look flashed on his face. He lifted his hand and was surprised to find the stone resting lightly in its grip. He didn’t remember picking it up. Eyeing it skeptically, he returned to the closet. Perhaps he should bury it at the bottom of his sock drawer.
He slid the door open, and his eyes were caught by the glimmer of green light below. It came from a specialized piece of furniture used to store Stims, keeping them fully charged with Vital Energy. He tried not to look at the four empty spaces on the top row, and returned to his bed. He shut the lights with a panel above his nightstand and threw himself on top of the covers.