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8. Clash of Rings

Ashlyn circled the ringtech on the stand beside the bed, examining every detail of the so-called 'lamp'. The device had a circular base, about seven centimeters thick. On its surface was a smaller indentation with a purple mark, seemingly custom-made for the small ring she held. Atop the base, a cylindrical translucent tube rose, its height about two or three times the thickness of the base. The tube had the appearance of glass, a material seldom seen in the settlements.

Carefully, and suppressing her excitement, she placed the purple ring into the socket. Suddenly, the tube burst into a bright yellow light, causing Ashlyn to recoil in surprise. The light was intense, far more so than firelight, bathing the entire room in a warm glow. 'Imagine having this in the wild,' she mused, amazed at the technology's practicality.

She leaned in to inspect the ringtech more closely, timidly touching the tube only after realizing it wasn't hot. Unlike fire, it posed no burn risk, making it ideal for indoor use without the threat of accidental fires. Experimenting further, she discovered that removing the purple ring turned off the light. The ringtech's simplicity and utility birthed countless ideas in her mind.

Her exploration was interrupted by a knock at the door, making her jump. The fright was a lingering aftereffect of living alone in a cave. Hesitating, she momentarily paused before deciding to illuminate the room with the lamp. Then she opened the door.

Standing outside was a robust young man, slightly older than herself, holding a large bucket of water. His smile was shy but warm as he awaited her permission to enter. Upon her nod, he stepped in and began pouring the water into the bathtub. Ashlyn noticed another full bucket by the door, which he used to fill the tub halfway.

"Thank you," she said in a neutral and polite tone.

"No problem... The name's Andre," he replied, his voice hinting at something more, a playful undertone she couldn't quite place. "You can call me at the reception if you need... anything." His emphasis suggested an openness to help beyond just the usual duties.

"Right, thanks," Ashlyn responded coldly as she swiftly closed the door behind Andre. Her mind was already focused on the bathtub.

However, as she glanced between the tub and the lamp, specifically at the purple ring in the socket, she realized she had to turn it off to heat the water. Annoyed, she retrieved the ring from the lamp and placed it in the bathtub.

Even in the dimness of the room, she leaned over the tub, trying to make out the subtle changes occurring within. Curiosity getting the better of her, she cautiously dipped her hand into the water, half-expecting something extraordinary. It seemed a bit risky, considering the unknown mechanics behind the heating process. But her understanding that the ring operated with a specific target emboldened her. Ultimately, the only difference she noted was the periodic sensation of ripples, each one slightly increasing the water's temperature.

Ashlyn couldn't help but fall in love with ringtech. The purple hues and the gentle ripples in the water led her to believe that both devices used rings from the School of Waves. Despite not having direct access to this particular interference field, it intrigued her greatly.

Luckily, the ringtech tub proved to be efficient. In just a couple of minutes, the water reached the perfect temperature. Tess had described this Inn as one of the more modest among the decent lodgings available. Ashlyn's mind wandered, imagining just how luxurious the higher-end establishments must be. The thought was tempting, but it could wait. For now, she would focus on having a delightful hot bath.

Waking up under the gently decorated ceiling of her room, Ashlyn took a moment to appreciate the subtle beauty around her. The woodwork was painted in a soft white, adorned with simple golden patterns. The night had brought her a deep, restful sleep, no doubt thanks to the exceptionally soft mattress and pillow that cradled her tired body.

Dinner in the previous evening had been satisfying, if unremarkable – a simple soup with an unknown type of meat and common vegetables. Such a meal would have been a luxury not long ago, but after having similar fare for three consecutive days at a less expensive inn, her tastes had quickly adapted.

The previous night had thankfully passed without incident. Ashlyn had skillfully avoided Tess's enthusiastic storytelling attempts and maintained a polite distance from Andre, whose lingering stares had unsettled her. Retreating to her room, she managed to perform another ring charging before sleep claimed her. She was pleased to note her recovery from the charging process was becoming quicker, enabling her to charge the ring two more times – once before her indulgently long bath and again before dinner.

Her morning routine involved some stretching, hopefully, followed by another ring charge, and then breakfast. She half-wondered if the inn's breakfast would persuade her to stay another night, drawn in by the allure of the ringtech. 'Porridge is the usual fare, but it's fine as long as there's no other option,' she thought pragmatically.

After her stretches, still clad in her semi-naked attire, she charged the ring storage unit again. Slipping into her dress, she tried to adjust it to look somewhat nicer. The idea of shopping for a new dress that better suited her resonant position was growing increasingly appealing.

Descending the stairs, she sighed deeply, reflecting on the rapid changes in her life and her swift adaptation to them. She had never been vain or overly proud, but these traits were starting to surface, perhaps a consequence of the circumstances. 'Would my parents even recognize me now? And does it matter if they don't?' she pondered. They had left her, a decision she now understood as wise, but it still hurt. 'But that's okay,' she reassured herself. 'It hurts because I'm alive, and that's what matters most.’

‘Power is dangerous, it changes people. My mother was right about that.' Her thoughts lingered on these reflections as she braced herself to face another day in the den of her enemies.

Ashlyn made a silent vow to herself, a tribute to her parents and the person she used to be. She would take care of herself, strive to look good, perhaps even stunning, but she wouldn't let vanity consume her. She'd walk with grace, not conceit, stepping over others only if they truly deserved it.

Breakfast was the usual porridge, but with a deluxe room came a small perk – a single scrambled egg. 'Well, that's something new,' She thought, deciding not to make a fuss. Eggs were a luxury, after all, and luxuries were costly.

Tess was unusually quiet, which was almost alarming. Ashlyn even had to coax her into a conversation.

"I'm fine, Ash... Mistress Quinn," Tess began, her tone turning thoughtful. "I'm just thinking over my next destination. Everyone says Vineyard is a great spot, but I bet there's not much room for newcomers among the established traders. I'm considering New Pikes, you know, past Solitude Bridge? It's a bit of a trek, but the prospects seem better. Old Pikes is swamped with traders, but I heard the founder of New Pikes brews some excellent ale. It's still early days there; maybe I can make my mark before it gets too crowded..." Tess trailed off sounding a little melancholic.

Unable to resist, Ashlyn ventured a question, "You seem to have thought it through. So, what's got you down?"

Tess sighed, "It's all just so... complicated. I thought trading would be simple, like buying low and selling high. But it's all about trade routes and long-term strategies. Can't it be straightforward?"

Ashlyn offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I don't think it's easy for anyone, Tess."

"Not even for a resonant?" Tess joked, a glimmer of her usual spirit returning.

"Definitely not for them," Ashlyn replied with a playful roll of her eyes.

Tess's unstoppable nature resurfaced as she quickly shifted the focus to Ashlyn. "So, what about you, Mistress Quinn? What are your plans? I heard getting into the Academy costs a fortune. Maybe you could finance it by charging rings for people?"

Ashlyn interjected before Tess could spiral into another tangent. "First things first, I need to find something more durable to wear. This dress feels like it's hanging on by a thread."

"Hmm, why don't you ask Mr. Morey for a seamstress recommendation? Last time I was here, he suggested..." Tess's voice trailed off into an enthusiastic recounting of her previous visit, only halting when Julien Morey graciously intervened.

Armed with Mr. Morey's recommendation, Ashlyn returned to her room for another ring charging before heading out to the seamstress. The Hold's architecture was a world apart from the settlements she was used to. Tall, fenced buildings, some occupying entire blocks, lined the streets. People bustled about their daily activities, and carriages rolled by at regular intervals. Despite their modesty, everyone's garments were surprisingly neat and clean.

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The streets led her to a block of small, uniform row houses, each sharing walls yet distinct with their own doors and frontages. It was clear that they housed people with humble means. Number 34 was her destination.

She navigated the unfamiliar system of numbered addresses, finding it strangely logical. Stopping in front of a door indistinguishable from its neighbors, she knocked. The sound of movement echoed from inside – something being shut, followed by footsteps. The door opened slowly, but instead of an adult, a young boy with a mischievous glint in his eyes peered up at her.

"Good morning. How can... I assist you?" The young boy's attempt at formality was endearing, his voice a blend of childhood innocence and a forced maturity.

Before Ashlyn could respond, a woman's voice called out, "Tommy, I've told you not to answer the door – Oh, hello there! Please, come in..." The woman who appeared was a robust blonde, exuding a sense of warm professionalism as she ushered Ashlyn inside.

Tommy was gently guided towards a cozy cushion, surrounded by a few makeshift toys. The woman, meanwhile, gestured for Ashlyn to take a seat on a simple wooden chair. She was the definition of efficiency and style, adorned with pins and lace-like tapes that somehow didn't detract from her overall appearance. Briefly excusing herself, she returned with a water jug and two glasses, setting them down with practiced ease.

"I'm Liane Keller, at your service. I'm a seamstress and stylist. And you dear...?" Liane's voice radiated friendliness with a touch of sass, striking the perfect note for a businesswoman.

"Ashlyn Quinn, Mistress," Ashlyn replied, softening her tone to counterbalance the formality of her title.

Liane's expression flickered from surprise to a brief flash of fear, then settled back into a professional smile. It was clear she was struggling to maintain a pleasant reaction, though her worried glances at Tommy didn't go unnoticed by Ashlyn. Introducing herself as a resonant was protocol in Hold society, a fact she had come to understand recently. Although resonants weren't required to dress distinctively, stating one's status was essential, and the title 'Mistress' served that purpose effectively.

The atmosphere shifted as soon as she revealed her status. The once eager Liane now seemed to wrestle between apprehension and respect, a common reaction Ashlyn had begun to notice from those not bearing the power of rings. It was clear that the dynamics between the ringed and unringed were more complex than she had initially understood. Determined to ease the tension, Ashlyn sought the right words.

"Please, don't worry. I'm still getting used to all this myself. There's no need for formality," she said, hoping to diffuse the situation.

Liane's expression softened slightly, though uncertainty lingered in her eyes. "I apologize for my reaction, Mistress Quinn," she said with obvious unease.

Ashlyn, feeling the weight of the seamstress's discomfort, especially with young Tommy nearby, replied, "You don’t have to apologize. If my presence is troubling, I can leave. It's the last thing I want, to make anyone feel uncomfortable."

"No, no, I... I'm sorry," Liane stammered, visibly fighting with her fear. She seemed to draw strength from somewhere, her gaze locking with Ashlyn's in a silent search for reassurance. Gradually, the tension ebbed from her body, her posture relaxing.

"Mistress Quinn, forgive my earlier behavior. It was just the shock of receiving a resonant here. I would be honored to assist you," Liane declared, her demeanor returning to the friendly and professional tone she had initially displayed.

Encouraged by the change, the resonant decided to be open about her needs. "Honestly, Miss Keller, I'm new to my current status. And I'm not sure about the appropriate attire. Could you help me with that?" she asked, hoping her honesty wouldn't be misplaced.

Liane's response was warm and reassuring. "Oh, I've never styled a resonant before, but I'm sure I can manage, Mistress Quinn," she sounded completely recovered. "Resonants typically wear cloaks for casual events and gowns for formal occasions. Students and Masters at the Academy have colored waistcoats. But apart from that, you're free to dress as you please, as long as it's fine."

Ashlyn nodded, relieved and grateful for Liane's guidance.

"Hmm, I think I'll pass on the formal wear for now. What do you recommend for something more practical? I like to move freely," Ashlyn expressed, already bracing herself for a potentially steep price tag.

Liane eyed Ashlyn thoughtfully before suggesting, "How about leggings or skinny pants paired with a buttoned tunic or a short dress? Medium-heeled boots would complement the look perfectly." She asked Ashlyn to stand and turn around to assess her better.

Ashlyn found both options appealing and decided to get a pair of each. The cost, as expected, was significant. The entire set of clothes, including the dye to match, was estimated at 20 charges. Adding a second set and the boots, which Liane promised to source from a skilled cobbler friend, brought the total to a hefty 50 charges. She knew she could opt for cheaper, simpler fabric and footwear, but that might draw unfavorable attention from other resonants. Fortunately, Liane offered a discount on a second-hand set, which would serve as a temporary upgrade until the custom outfits were ready.

After a series of fittings and measurements, Ashlyn left the seamstress's atelier four charges lighter, donning simple but serviceable all-black clothing. Liane had cautioned her that the garments weren't befitting a resonant of her standing, but they were a marked improvement over her previous attire. Personally, the resonant would have preferred her current practical outfit over anything more extravagant; it felt flexible and durable. Nevertheless, she resolved to adhere to the Hold's fashion norms, at least for the sake of blending in more seamlessly.

On her way back to the Inn, Ashlyn increased the charge on her red storage ring to three, noting that the last charge had been just over an hour ago. The process of casting the ‘Assemble’ ring required for the disk was becoming more fluid. She calculated that with careful monitoring of her time and mental state, she could potentially gather over twelve charges in a day. Even if she stayed in the deluxe room, she could accumulate enough to pay for the clothes in just over a week. Liane's allowance of three days for the deposit on the outfits was a relief. Suddenly, the cost of six charges for the room and meals didn't seem as pricey.

As Ashlyn made her way back to the Morey Inn, she deliberately chose a longer route, eager to absorb the sights and sounds of the Hold. Now familiar with the distinguishing traits of resonants, she spotted a few of them going around. Whether it was the pair riding regally in a carriage or the lone figure entering a shop, their clothes weren't the only giveaway. It was their demeanor - a blend of arrogance, superiority, and confidence - that set them apart. 'Looks like I'll need to adopt some of that swagger too,' she thought. She would need to if she was to fit in with her new peers.

Nearing the Inn, Ashlyn's attention was drawn to Teresa's cart, parked haphazardly in front of the entrance. The merchant was deep in conversation with Andre, seemingly unaware that her cart was causing a minor commotion. Passengers from a blocked carriage were jumping out, their frustration evident as they shouted at Andre. Tess, meanwhile, caught sight of Ashlyn and greeted her cheerily, oblivious to the chaos her cart had started.

But then, the scene took a sudden, alarming turn. Another figure, a young man dressed impeccably, emerged from the carriage. His outburst was abrupt, and in an instant, Ashlyn sensed the familiar but oddly disconcerting presence of an interference field. The field was different – unstable, menacing, as if on the brink of collapse.

The young man's hand glowed with two golden rings, quickly followed by a third, then a fourth. 'He's using a third ring,' Ashlyn realized, her mind racing to recognize his technique. In the blink of an eye, his rings unleashed their power, sending a curved, translucent line slicing through the air. It struck Andre's shoulder with brutal precision, opening a deep, curved gash from which blood spurted into the air. Andre crumpled to the ground as the chaotic scene around them reached a peak.

Ashlyn's breath hitched, her pulse pounding in her ears. The young resonant had just attacked Andre, but why? Across the street, a woman's high-pitched scream sliced through the chaos. Panic surged through Ashlyn as she tackled the strangeness of the situation. This resonant could be a hunter, an enemy. The thought of facing him, with his strange abilities, was terrifying.

Tess turned around, her face painted in horror at the sight of Andre convulsing on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Her gaze locked on the assailant – a well-dressed young man who radiated the unmistakable aura of a resonant. Anger and fear warred within her as she stood frozen, wanting to scream but unable to find her voice.

"I said to get out of my way, trash!" the young resonant spat venomously, aiming his hand at Tess as he prepared to cast more rings.

Tess's survival instincts kicked in. She spun on her heels and fled. Another deadly attack flew from the resonant's hand, narrowly missing her and embedding itself in the inn's wall. Despite her screams for him to stop, he persisted, hurling curses and conjuring another ring, his intent clear and deadly.

At that moment, years of training and instinct took over Ashlyn. She sprinted towards Tess, her movements fluid and resolute. Tess screamed for her to run, and Ashlyn did. Not away, but instead towards her new friend. Unknowingly, in the brief time they spent together, a bond had formed.

Ashlyn knew her actions were reckless. The young resonant was more powerful, wielding a third ring while she barely managed her second. She watched helplessly as another air slash shot from his ring, aimed directly at Tess. Closer to him now, Ashlyn could almost taste the foreign and destructive essence of his power in the air. It was something altogether alien, rapid, and ruinous.

Teresa was a few steps away from her, and instinctively, Ashlyn sprang into action. She extended her right hand, almost reflexively, as the familiar sensation of her natural field enveloped her. Rings began to hover in front of her hand, materializing more from instinct than from deliberate thought. The impending attack loomed dangerously close, the menacing distortion of air just a meter away. Teresa, already consumed by despair, rushed past her. Ashlyn's entire being was focused on the unfolding crisis; the moment demanded her full attention. Another ring began to form, seeking a target, and in the split second of indecision, instinct chose it for her. A new ring burst into existence, and Ashlyn's only thought was to will these rings to extend.

The enemy's attack reached them, a blur of malice. Ashlyn felt her consciousness waver under the strain, her vision beginning to dim. The hostile distortion clashed with her ring, creating an energetic ripple where the two forces met. Her field, though smaller and less intricate, was strong. The portion of the attack caught within her ring disintegrated into grey dust, particles of QS material. But the remnants of the assault continued its deadly path, narrowly missing Ashlyn but striking Teresa in the stomach.