The wave of sound pounded against Seph's ears, his unenhanced body thumping with the crowd's cheers.
"SURE-STRIKE! SURE-STRIKE!" Seph felt his blood pumping as the chants reached a crescendo. A body hit the sand, and the wave turned into a tsunami. Screams for Surestrike echoed off the stone rotunda surrounding the arena, blood and sand intermingling in the pit.
"Another victory for Surestrike! An unprecedented eighteen consecutive wins! And tonight, taking on a Lithium vulcanite as a Hollow! Truly, friends, I've never seen anything like it!" Seph listened to tonight's announcer wax poetic about the fight as his eyes surveyed the ring. He saw what the crowd didn't.
Under his patchwork carnacle-shell mask, Naxtus "Surestrike" Wressom was a half-step from embracing unconsciousness. His back was ramrod straight, but Seph had watched the shots he'd taken. He hadn't seen Nax get hit like that since... well, since ever. Seph couldn't remember Nax losing a fight, but Nax had never taken on a vulcanite before today. Tan-skinned and built like a lighthouse, Naxtus Wressom was the kind of man people would've been nervous around if he didn't have the good looks to match. Green-eyed and black-haired, Nax looked like he'd been chiseled from the stone around Tuwallo's bay. And right now, that stone was near shattering.
The crowd hushed, and Seph's mind wandered back into the arena. "Three cheers for Surestrike! Hollow or Lithium, it matters not!"
The people were still roaring as Nax left the pit.
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When Seph made it back to the hovel he and Nax shared, his friend was already sprawled out on the bed they'd constructed to fit his frame. "I see you're basking in your victory," Seph said, closing the door behind him before he stashed tonight's betting winnings under the loose floorboard where they kept their savings. Seven hundred and forty-three chips. Twelve hundred and fifty-seven to go.
Nax sighed, his head turning ever-so-slowly to look at Seph. "Victory is a strong word. I think my body might have died in there, but I've just been too stubborn to let it."
"Was it really that bad?" Seph asked. "You made a good show of it, I'll say that much. It looked like some of those shots would've dropped an ironshell. I could tell they hurt, but I know you. I guarantee the whole arena would swear you let him hit you just to show you could take them."
"I didn't let him hit shit, and anyone who thinks that is a moron. The slipscale was faster than me and stronger than me. Seeing what he's doing isn't the same as keeping up. I was lucky his technique was as bad as it was. If he didn't rely so much on his advancement he would have scattered me over the sands."
"I saw," Seph said simply. "But still. We made more tonight than I do in a month of harvesting." He sighed, hands clasping in front of him in thought. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help more with this."
"Sorry?" Nax laughed. "We're using the chips to get me ignited, and you feel bad? I'm taking almost half your wages, Seph. Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell me you've put together a pattern that'll let me scrub the floor with other vulcanites once I get started."
"Seems like you're scrubbing the floor with other vulcanites now," Seph chuckled. "And I think I'm almost done. You know how it is, trying to bring all of the scraps at the repository into something coherent. But I think I have a pattern that would take advantage of you being the monster you are. Nothing fancy, no long-range engagement. Everything all-in on closing distance and hammering through whoever is in your way."
"I like the sound of that." Nax straightened his head and stared at the ceiling. "You know I'll take you with me Seph. Just because I couldn't teach you to fight doesn't mean there isn't a pattern out there for you." He reached into a pocket and threw a pouch at Seph's chest. "Give half to Farris. That's the purse for the fight."
Seph opened the pouch, and his eyebrows rose at the volume of chips. "This must be a hundred and fifty- no, two hundred chips. They gave you this for one fight?"
"They gave me that for one fight with a Lithium, Seph. And I don't know if I can take another one. I'll be laid up for weeks after tonight, and if I step into the pit with a vulcanite that's actually worth anything I might never fight again."
Seph sobered, his hands stilling where before they had been running through the chips. "You're right. Slower is better. Having enough to pay for your ignition doesn't matter if you're crippled by the time we get there."
Nax nodded and then grimaced at the motion. "I would take that to Farris before everyone else gets back from the arena. Streets are safer while all the roughs are at the fights."
"True enough," Seph said. "I'll head now. You want me to have him whip a poultice up for you? I'm sure he has something for the pain."
Nax shook his head, once again making the mistake of moving his neck. "Nothing broken, and I can deal with pain if it means we're closer to paying for my ignition."
Seph clapped his friend on the shoulder and ran from the room before he could retaliate. Outside, the streets were largely deserted. Tuwallo was a big enough city that they would never be truly empty, but the fights were the lifeblood of the poorer districts. Affordable and entertaining, they offered an escape for the people on the bottom rung of Tuwallo's society who didn't have the chips for anything less violent. Seph waved to a few friendly faces he recognized in the streets and headed toward Farris'.
He heard it before he saw it. A slapped-together edifice of stone and wood, Farris' orphanage was less building and more construction menagerie. Lack of chips was an issue for this district, and none more so than an orphanage. Farris' project had been funded by public kindness since its inception, and generosity was a lean thing to rely on when those who wanted to give couldn't. As Seph approached, he heard the screams and squeals of children, pounding feet assaulting his ears as he approached the door. He knocked and waited patiently.
A man opened the door, and before Seph could say a word he hooked a child that had been trying to escape through the opening. Farris had three more of the gremlins on his back.
"Evening Farris," Seph smiled. "I see the younger generation is keeping you busy, as always."
"As always," Farris repeated, returning Seph's grin. The child he'd grabbed had shifted to throwing his fists into Farris' side. "Have to keep life interesting, yeah? Come on in Seph. The little ones will be happy to see you."
At his name, the children perked up. "Uncle Seph?" a girl shouted from Farris' shoulder. "You cut your hair! Why do you want to be ugly?"
Seph chuckled and swept the girl from Farris, holding her upside down as he walked into the orphanage. "Twyla, you said that when my hair was long. How about we cut your hair and see how pretty you are?"
The girl struggled, giggling, and when she broke free of his grasp, raced further into the orphanage. "Seph's here!" she exclaimed, sprinting through the building and rounding up the rest of the residents.
Seph was knocked off his feet by a tide of children shortly after, both he and Farris covered in a living carpet. After the children had their fill of 'Uncle Seph' they ran off to terrorize each other, only Velda staying behind. The girl was either mute or choosing to be, and after a year at Farris', she still wouldn't leave the man's side. Seph remembered feeling the same after his father died.
"This is too much," Farris grumbled, his hulking form throwing back the purse Seph had just given him. "I know what you and Nax are trying to do. This is weeks of work for you. I can't accept this."
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"Farris, we both know I won't take it back. And we both know you need it," Seph said, glancing meaningfully at the man's clothes. Farris had more patches than cloth through most of his attire, and calling what was on his feet shoes would have been generous. "The money goes to the children. If enough of us grow up, get out of this place, and donate, maybe you'll finally have enough funding to spend some of your life living yours instead of saving others."
Farris' eyes were red as he pocketed the pouch. "I heard that Surestrike won a fight against a Lithium. Old Pon came by, was talking about the match like he'd seen the Fortress himself. Truth?"
Seph nodded. "He's the best I've ever seen Farris. If his family was worth a damn he might already be Titanium. Even a weak Lithium... It's enough to make a man jealous if he lets it." He sighed, sitting back and pulling Velda into his lap. She squeaked, more in surprise than fear, before her shoulders loosened. "I've never seen anything like it. The Lithium was faster, stronger, and had anima enhancement. And Nax beat him without any lasting damage. Pon is a gossipmonger, make no mistake, but he's not a liar. I don't know another soul who could've done what Nax did tonight."
Farris sighed, his hand running over the scar that ran from front to back atop his hairless scalp. "I was good, Seph. Great, if I'm honest." Here, he paused, cushioning the fall of a sprinting toddler before standing him up and setting his course. "Nax makes me look like an ape trying to paint. You need to get that boy out of here and to somewhere he doesn't have to teach himself every last thing he knows. Otherwise, he'll waste away."
Seph heard the 'as I did' Farris didn't say. "That's the plan. We're close to half of the market rate for ignition after tonight. With us giving you this," Seph clarified as he saw Farris open his mouth. The former pit fighter grumbled good-naturedly, and Seph appreciated the show for what it was. Farris would never turn down money for the children, and they both knew it. "After that, I just have to ride his coattails until he pays for my ignition. Or does it himself."
Farris snorted at the joke. "I see you for what you are, Seph. If I'd had a friend like you when I was Nax's age... Your mind is wasted here, just as much as Nax's body. That pattern you made him; you took scraps from a public repository and built them into something extraordinary. Your father would be proud."
The words didn't send the pang of longing through Seph he'd come to expect. He missed his father, but he found himself looking forward more than back these days. "His pattern isn't finished. But I appreciate that nonetheless Farris." He groaned, standing with Velda in his arms. "I have a harvesting shift in the morning. I'll try to visit again soon. And Farris," he paused, setting down the squirming girl in his arms and turning to the man who was the closest thing he had to a father these days. "Thank you - for all of this. What me and Nax are doing is easy. You're doing what matters."
Farris' response was buried under a tide of screaming children, a few of the ringleaders bringing a band together to take the mountain of a man down, and Seph took the opportunity to quietly exit the orphanage while Farris' charges were distracted.
His walk through the district back to the home he and Nax shared was peaceful, the taste of salt in the air an ever-present companion. When he returned, Nax was already fast asleep, and before long, Seph was the same, his dreams swirling thoughts of vulcanite patterns and anima theories. And they remained that way until he woke the next morning, Nax still fast asleep, his skin slowly being filled with dark bruises.
Twelve hours later, Seph was waste deep in the water by the northern sea wall, and he'd sighted his next carnacle. Surrounded by a barrier of rock-hard shell, carnacles were roughly the size of a human torso, and though they mostly remained stationary through their decade-long lives, they were some of the more dangerous denizens of the sea that lived on Tuwallo's shores. When threatened, they had arms tipped with bladed chitin, and they were surprisingly quick for a creature known for being sedentary.
Seph approached this one cautiously, and the creature sensed him before he made it within four strides. Its blades extended warningly, fleshy arms wielding sharped shell cautioning Seph from approaching. Seph hefted the rope in his hand and lept into action.
The loop in his hands, weighted with metal on the ends, circled the extended arms of the carnacle like a hangman's noose before tightening and bringing the fleshy arms into a bundle. Blades immobilized, Seph gripped the carnacle by the arms and severed the bladed ends. He gathered the sharpened shells into a sack on his back, dropping them in with the other arms he'd harvested today, and then pried the rest of the carnacle's flesh out of its shell. He hefted the meat into a floating ice chest he pulled behind him, the flesh of the creature joining almost a score of its brethren that would go to feeding the people of Tuwallo through the coming days. Having met his quota, Seph took a breath and took stock.
Four cuts, two bruises, and twenty carnacles were his haul for the day. The last one had gone smoothly, but he wasn't always so lucky. His forearms were more scar than untouched skin after three years of harvesting, but the pay was the best he could find without an education or a backer. Other than pit fighting, and Seph knew better than to step into the arena with Nax and the other maniacs that made their living in the sand. He'd tried to join the fry with Nax's help and that had gone exceptionally poorly.
Seph turned today's harvest into Ritri, the woman counting out Seph's pay after ensuring he'd hit today's quota. Seph walked home with heavier pockets, arms bandaged and body sore from his day of work. On his way, he passed through the market district between the seawall and the home he and Nax shared. Merchants were hawking their wares everywhere, mostly humans, but a few giganti set up shop around the market, and even the occasional gillfolk. The mostly aquatic race often sold the fish found around their homes on the ocean floor, and Seph assumed a trade delegation had come from one of the underwater cities in recent days.
As he continued, his eyes fell upon a small woman, almost dainty, who had the look of a vulcanite. Clear-skinned and solid-framed, her delicate image was belied by the power that lurked beneath her skin. As a Hollow, Seph couldn't use anima senses to determine her advancement, but if he had to guess he would have put his money on her being at least Barium. Her hair was a silvery white not often seen in Hollows, and her skin was a rich brown like she spent time in the sun more often than not.
The woman stood next to an obelisk carved from iridescent stone, the sculpted earth a deep black not dissimilar to the ink of the viceskull squid swimming in Tuwallo's waters. The surface of the pillar glowed with an icy light, the delicate runework on its face illuminated from within by the anima that powered the artefact. Seph recognized some of the runework, but many of the symbols were completely alien. As he approached, the vulcanite spoke in what sounded like a well-rehearsed speech to the masses crowding her and the obelisk.
"People of Tuwallo! Haegren Xhanner, the Winterforge, has tasked me with bringing this artefact from city to city in hopes that he might find insight from those of different backgrounds. Any of those who wish to test themselves against the personal work of a Lutetium may step forward and examine the artefact. Should you divine its secrets, you may earn a prize in the amount of 500 chips. Examining the artefact will cost you nothing but your time."
Seph felt a wave of surprise flow over the crowd, and it was easy to see why. Five hundred chips covered months' worth of expenses in the outer rings.
"What's the catch?" Someone shouted from the back of the steadily growing crowd.
"No catch," the vulcanite replied, her eyes spearing through the crowd and fixing the man who'd yelled in her stare. "The Winterforge values learning in all its forms, and this is one of many artefacts he has crafted to send out amongst all of Asin. We ask only that you do not collaborate in your examinations, as my master seeks individual insights."
The man spat, hands shaking almost imperceptibly as he turned and walked away from the spectacle. "Nothing good comes from Lutetiums and their scheming." He turned, a righteous anger on his face as he addressed the crowd. "Pretty words or not, you all would do well to remember that the likes of us are stinkroaches at the boot of the Winterforge. Lutetiums step, and lives end." The man surveyed the crowd for a moment longer and then turned, quickly disappearing into the morass of the market.
The vulcanite sighed, her carefully manicured exterior betraying, for the briefest instant, a look of exhaustion. "No harm will come to anyone as a result of this contest. I swear it on the name of the Winterforge himself, as well as my own crucible and pattern."
The crowd murmured as the vulcanites among them felt the oath take hold, the chains of animus extending from her to the rest of them perceptible to those who commanded animus themselves. Seph stepped forward, eyes lighting up at the oath, though he couldn't feel its effects.
A proclamation was one thing. Much as Seph hated to admit it, vulcanites were not well known for their honesty, and the man who'd left had a point, foolishly shouted though it was. Strontium or lower vulcanites rarely came out ahead in the games of Lutetiums. But with a crucible oath, the opportunity here could not be ignored. Should harm come to anyone after a binding like that, it would shatter both the Winterforge's reputation and this young vulcanite's crucible. Risking your reputation on the world stage to fool Lithiums and Calciums was insane for a man of Haegren Xhanner's stature.
The vulcanites in the market thought the same. There was a rush from most of those in the crowd, a few eruptions of animus from the more enthusiastic ones, and then a rapid stilling as Xhanner's representative enveloped them all in her strength. Or so Seph assumed. As a Hollow, he couldn't sense animus any more than he could grasp the water he waded in daily.
"Those who wish to test themselves may form an orderly line. Jostle for position and you will be removed from the market."
Once again, her voice rang with the clear tones of truth, and the jockeying ceased as offenders' faces whitened in fear. That, more than anything else, convinced Seph that the woman was strong. Vulcanites were not known for their level-headedness as a rule, especially in a smaller city like Tuwallo, and this woman had effectively cowed a crowd's worth of them without a single technique. Seph suppressed a spike of irritation at his lacking anima senses, and as he did, he stepped into the line.
An opportunity to learn something from the work of a Lutetium? They'd have to cripple him to keep him away.