“I see you actually got yourself a Trainer, little water Pygmaleon.” Ilo said after a tense few minutes of silence of stalking through the tall grass, even while great explosions rocked the earth, and the crackling of thunder hammered down from the smoking clouds above.
Mery nodded. “Do you know me?” She asked.
“I’ve been to your Tribal Grounds before. You wouldn’t remember, too young, too…”
“Not-Awakened.” She nodded, accepting the reluctance of the Psychic Aimon to speak the truth for what it was. A complex, an insecurity about her nature as a natural born Aimon with sentience.
Myron remained uncertain if the newly awakened Mery was able to connect the dots in such a way, or if she has the intellect and language knowledge within her already to be able to use such terms.
At the very least Myron saw it as such. Guilt, for being chosen, for being lucky, for being different. That was an interesting predicament and it made one think, why do Aimon work the way they do? It made Myron think.
More and more he was growing invested on the mysteries of Aimon, and it was only proper, he concluded. A world of adventure and Mystery awaits, the shenanigans they will face, the obstacles in their way, their battles to be won, challengers to overcome. If he let himself take a step back, away from the greed, ambition, violence and politics that he had been thrust into from the first moment, then there is so much he wants to explore. With that mindset this world was a gift to Myron, his wish come true, his childish dreams made into reality.
Yet not everything was sunshine and rainbows. He had killed, he would probably kill again. He had fought and had made others fight, harsh decisions where popping up left and right and he had not time to give a proper response. He had helped Ylo, ordered his Aimon to help, and he hadn’t even spoken properly about it, though Syl had seemed eager enough when she found out that Ylo believed in some type of Pantheon.
How much further was he willing to go, he did not know. Until the question came he didn’t know how he would react. While he has been team leader to small teams about specific projects before, none of the stakes were life and death. So here he was, out of his depth, crouch walking through a forest of tall grass, towards a burning blaze that kept on growing.
{zip} Came the faint crackle of something in the distance.
{zap} Then came another, even fainter, and the lash of a burning palm across the cheek of another, the unmistakable sound of a slap resounded through the clearing.
Ylo rushed forward, Teleporting from left to right, always in view, yet ever fleeting. Syl rushed after her and Mery picked up Myron to keep up. They arrived on what appeared to be the crest of a slope in the land. To their right a small river of black water, filled with nutrient dense mud trickled further west moving around the little clearing of dry land situated at the steps of massive boulder.
There, a young little thing, a child with fluffy hair of sparking white, with horns of yellow that buzzed with energy, and hooves for hands and feet, pronged in the middle to give the sense of two fingers. She knelt, her small hands over her head, crying, whimpering, a growing bump on her head, blood leaking down her lips.
Surrounding her stood stoically three Aimon, Syl tensed. They were Second Tier Aimon then, like her.
“You filthy!” The man slapped and cursed.
“Ungrateful cur!” He slapped again.
“Stupid Whore!” He punched the fox woman in the face and struck her to the ground. He mounted her and sent a barrage of punches her way. Dark energies ebbed of the three tailed fox but with a growl from one of the standing Aimon any wish for resistance was trampled.
“I should have never captured you!” He pulled at her hair in anger and madness. “You dare… you dare defy my orders!? If I want that little thing beaten into unconsciousness so I can bond with her, then that is what I’ll get. Don’t you see? You dumb fucking idiot.” He lost the fire in his voice, the burning rage, only to have it replaced by sick, sticking to the skin, superiority, arrogance.
He stood up from the bloodied yet healing Aimon he had just traumatized and turned to the whimpering mess of a child. The poor little thing sobbed, guilt and fear racked its body. It stared into the eyes of the beaten fox and then right through it as the man stood before her, his intentions as evil as they come.
Myron turned to Syl, and whispered. “Is this allowed? In human society?”
She shook her head. “Children Aimon, can’t grow stronger. They can’t even connect to the System. Bonding with them is considered pedophilia, a crime of pleasure, not an act of Aimon ownership, training, or anything else.” She supplied but soon turned silent, serious.
Ylo was clearly furious, twitching in place. Her hatred growing by the second. Yet she still hesitated.
Myron called out to her with a short hiss. She turned to him, her pupils dilated, her eyes bloodshot. “We’ll help. We’ll free the child.”
Myron knew two things. He wanted to prevent this act of evil happening in front of him. He would consider his time in this world until now and forever more a waste, his person irredeemable, if he allowed this to happen. He didn’t come here to cower.
Yet he also knew that he would not be the one in immediate bodily danger. Such was the way this world went, even if he became a Brawler eventually, it would take years and years and years of dedication to be remotely capable. A choice that seemed to be as immature as not becoming a Brawler, as irresponsible.
In this case his desire to save the child won out. Let them fight, he’d do his best to support.
With the decision made his eyes turned to his enemies. The trainer was preoccupied. His hands caressing the scared child, his voice soothing, his eyes greedy black holes that would be the end of him.
His three Aimon were vigilant. One of them, had a helmet of fire donning her face, with feathers of flames spreading out of the helmet, dancing in the wind. Next to her and the closest to the boulders stood a short Aimon with many limbs and legs like needles. Hair of matted brown, soggy and muddy both, with eyes of a murky blue, large upper arm muscles and a waist that all but didn’t exist. Instead replaced by a big ring of stone running like a river around itself, in the same circle, connected to the top and bottom of the Aimon’s body but not quite seeming a part of it. Next to him stood an Aimon with snow white - everything. From the hair that ended in icicles, to the lashes that beat with snow, the breath that blew out blizzards, the chest that glistened like the surface of a lake and the ice blue heart that beat within. All the way down to the feet of glaciers, large stumps of blue ice so cold a single look was enough to have people shivering.
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This worked out well enough for them, Myron asked, before coming to that conclusion. These Aimon where, a Princinix, a Swanassor, and a Glacilin respectively.
Mery had major advantages against two of those Aimon presumably, with Syl holding a great, quadruple advantage against the shorter one the Swanassor, if Syl remember correctly from the encyclopedia of known Aimon. With the Fox, whose typing was still out of his grasp, not seeming ready or willing to participate in the battle, they had potential.
“Fhew~” Myron let out a breath, softly into the hot winds of the burning land. The combat to the North of the outpost wall that rose above the horizon of tall grass, visible from the slope even to Myron, who used to wear glasses just a day ago, hid every small sound, masked as byproduct of war.
“Listen up.” Thus Myron talked.
“We get rid of the greatest disadvantage first and foremost.” Syl caught up immediately. “Before extracting the child, if that is Okay with you.” He turned to Ylo and she nodded after hesitating. They both assumed that the Trainer, whoever he was would not order the death of the Child Aimon if he wished to have it in his possession, so easily. Not to mention that his purpose for stalking near the combat of Taher and her Fire Aimon in this burning Region was unknown and potentially nefarious, thus dangerous.
“After Mery whips that guy in the legs, Hold him in place. Mery will use Surge Twice, at the very least, while you Syl, will go in. Engage the other two. In that time, the child will be whisked away, replaced by you, Ylo. I want the Fire type, dead. Don’t even think think about what happens next. Are we in accord?” Myron accepted the nods to his strategy with clenched fists to stop the shaking.
He then took a few deep breaths, closed his eyes and dove deep into himself. He felt there, the cool water of the forest pool of water, calm and collected, never broken or scared, unmoving to the happenings of the world. He cupped it in his arms, the whole of it and he brought it up from the depths of the space without light, just thought.
“Syl. Is it possible for Trainers to share Aether with their Aimon? I have a few points.” (16 to be exact, a few more than previously).
“You can, and you can share skills as well, though those are usually active.”
“Great, I just wanted to know that I hadn’t gone crazy. So it most certainly can be done with all skills.” He added with certainty, where it came form he knew not. So he spoke of his wish, to himself and to the skill and the world at large. “I wish to give this calmness, this purpose to them too.”
He called out and pulled at the Aether, golden liquid drops flying about freely within the space of his soul where the tethers to his two Bonded Aimon where housed. And so it was.
The Water didn’t tremble, it simply became more, and then, with a single pop it split, and the skill traveled down the pathways like a river of running water. His two Aimon took sudden breaths, before settling back down. Myron’s purpose, his will, his sharpness and calm, all now given freely to those closest to him.
Myron believed this Skill of his to be a true game breaker. He wanted to do this, and the skill gave him a way, there is no other explanation for how easy it was, everything that had to do with the Tether and his interactions had come easy. More than once he had seen and felt Syl’s surprise at the level of Mastery he has attained for a newborn Trainer, of nary twenty four hours.
“It’s time.” He said and situated himself a some dozen steps away from Mery, while Syl stalked every closer. When she was just behind the end of the thicket, she stopped. Ylo had disappeared, though Myron saw her standing atop the boulders. Which was smart, and took out the need to waste Aether to [Teleport] in the middle of them.
“[Water Whip]” Myron ordered and the battle begun.
From the ground behind the Fire legionnaire rose a tentacle. It wrapped around her legs and pulled. “Guh!” She grunted as her face fell into the dirt, another Tentacle rose to slap the back of her skull even further and one more rose to smack the Trainer right in the skull.
“Into [Surge],” Myron sent through their Bond. “Twice, then rush forward.” He finished and turned his attention on Syl. She was already there, [Bullet Kick] he sent through the Bond and she jumped. Both her legs shone silver, and they slammed into the Ice type. She flew back, folded on herself and Syl used her body as a springboard to rush the stunned dual type. Vines grew from the ground and held him in place, while in her arms a tangle of weeds grew fierce and she slammed into him. Pushing him up against the boulder standing tall behind him with such force that they cracked.
Ylo fell down in front of the stunned little sheep and her mental energy slammed down on the Fire Type Aimon which had already stood and thus left him incapable of dodging the super charged wave of rapid water rushing and crashing into him, swallowing him whole.
The weeds around Syl’s hands grew and wrapped the target’s arms and legs, locking themselves all around the boulder. To parasitic seeds were shot into his navel and chest and the shocked him, veins appearing below his skin, pumped for their live blood. Syl shone with even more power.
“Turn around! Alloy Bod, Hardest!” Myron ordered suddenly and cut her off from her next attack. A beam of frigid Ice slammed into her, crashing in her shining body and split up into a hundred smaller beams that froze whatever they touched, a death of freezing burns that made everything in its path into a wasteland. But Syl remained well, barely damaged thanks to the incredible toughness of the Ability used.
“NO!” Screamed the Trainer as he watched his whizzing and coughing Fire Type suddenly fall to his knees, grasping her head screaming the most painful sound Myron had ever heard. “Nebuch! Mud Bomb!” He shouted and the mouth of the Aimon trapped by Syl bloated with the projectile. Before he could shot it at Ylo though the sweet scent of roses and cherries, and all types of flowers spread through the clearing.
“Mery, the Ice Type!” He called for a [Headbutt] his voice now audible to all. He scampered away as the enemy trainer’s gaze landed on his position right away. A storm picked up and the smell of flowers turned blood as a Petal Blizzard kicked up, stopping Moner from shooting his shot. “Ivana! Save Cali!” The Trainer ordered, standing right in front of Dakini, who remained there on the ground and away from Combat.
Myron saw him flash her a look as the chaos got even worse. The Fire type, Cali screamed and a peacock tail of flames rose from behind her even as a deluge of blood fell from her mouth; eyes; and nose. She stood when Ylo had to dodge the massive icicle crash coming from the skies. She appeared right behind the flaming tail and grasped at the air.
Cali the peacock flew straight into her own teammate, Ivana and the two were sent bobbing through the tall grass and into the mud. “Keep the Blizzard going, Syl!” Myron shouted and Nebuch from inside the cutting bouquet screamed in pain.
“Dakini! Move you Bitch! Traitor!”
“Fuck you Choro!” She spat back even as her hair was pulled and face kicked in by a muddy boot. Teeth falling to the earth and re-growing the next second.
Syl suddenly shivered. Myron felt the alarm bells blowing up within her through their bond. “DUCK!” She shouted and all of them fell to the ground. Myron jumped up as he had not come down from the Hill to not make himself a target and for a better vantage point. A paper thin beam of Fire cut across the battlefield. The Boulders came apart falling to the ground in a cloud of Dust.
“Fuck, no plan survives first contact.. Huh.” Myron cursed as he was informed by Syl within the cloud of no visibility that her target had broken free. “Evasive maneuvers, all of you.” He called out and moved position silently once more. From the sky a rain of sharp javelins made of blue glacier-ice rained down. Mery and Syl both took cover under the shade of what was left of the boulder, waiting for the dust to disperse.
“We’re getting out of here. Disengage, we still have a reward to claim, and an Outpost to fuck up.” Choro, the trainer ordered calmly, coldly, his eyes scanning for Myron in the distance. Never expecting him to be just a few meters to the side.
“No…” The Fox whose main of black hair ending in a soft baby-pink whimpered. He looked at her with tyrannic glee. “Where you hoping to be saved?” He chuckled grimly and his three Aimon joined him.
Two of the three where not that capable of battle. Even now, Nebuch trembled as his veins where pumped for all they had, magically extracting his power and sharing it with Syl from a distance, and the other trembled like a leaf in the wind with every step. Only Ivana still stood strong, as Mery had not been able to get even one Super effective hit on her before they were shoved away by Ylo. Who had done what felt right for her… but….
Myron stared into Dakini’s eyes. The fox was young, afraid and alone, powerless, as much so as the child Myron had just helped save. Which was being placated and crying softly in Ylo’s hug, Myron could see them both, from where their attack had originally begun.
“Help me.” She mouthed at Myron, knowing he could see her. He frowned.