“So what do your parents do for a living?”
Keynes regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. The glares of the bodyguards sent shivers down his spine. He glanced at Vivena hoping to find salvation there.
She smiled albeit with a hint of reservation.
“They run a family business,” she replied but didn’t elaborate, giving not so subtle cues that she didn’t wish to continue this topic.
He wisely turned his head to the window, once again cursing his stupidity.
As a city, San Antonio differed from other cities of similar size. It was rather flat, with only a few skyscrapers reaching to the sky, and built with pedestrians in mind.
To anyone who came here, one thing would stand out more than anything else, life in San Antonio was slower, less focused on chasing high-end careers. One could get lost in the blissful, hot weather and lazy winds that ruffled hair.
They drove through the city centre, heading up the hill to the rich suburbs. Keynes scratched his head, thinking of local restaurants in this part of the city. Not many places came to his mind.
Where are we going?
He found an answer to his question twenty minutes later as they pulled up to a restaurant called Lily of the Valley. It was located on a slope and it offered a magnificent view on the other side. This excited Keynes as in the valley outside San Antonio was a reserve with many tall, rare trees. On the other hand, he’d never heard about this restaurant. While he didn't know about every restaurant in San Antonio, this expensive location was prominent enough to make people talk.
And its name - Lily of the Valley - seemed rather unusual for a fine dining establishment. Lily of the Valley was another poisonous flower.
They left the car, stepping back into the warmth of San Antonio’s air. The front of the restaurant looked modern, with many strange elements that appealed to the rich in one way or another. Keynes wasn’t rich, so he didn’t know what to think about the ice fountain or a small waterfall occupying one side of the building.
“What do you think?” Vivena asked.
“About the restaurant? Provocative?”
Provocative? Seriously? He asked himself, dumbfounded. Where was his brain when he needed it?
“Provocative?” Vivena frowned, looking puzzled.
“Pretentious?” Keynes asked awkwardly.
Someone remind me, why am I here anyway? He mused in his mind.
“Alright, let's go inside and find a table.” Vivena ended their odd exchange.
Her bodyguards shadowed them. They made Keynes uneasy. It was rare for someone outside the police force or military to be Level 2 or higher. In truth, Keynes didn’t know of a way to level up other than joining the army.
Most likely, those two were ex-soldiers. It was a plausible and easy explanation. He went with it. His mind was concerned with the restaurant anyway.
They climbed the stone stairs and were welcomed by a general manager at the glass door.
“Miss, it is a pleasure to host you again. I have the best kind of table prepared.”
“Thank you, Andrew.”
Thank you, Andrew? Okay, I guess it’s only natural to personally know a general manager of such a restaurant if your parents are rich.
The general manager greeted Keynes with a proper formality and asked them to follow him inside.
The restaurant smelled of a few dominant odours, which Keynes couldn’t identify. He wasn’t an expert when it came to smells and his perfect memory was lacking in this department, and yet, it seemed unlikely to find a whole set of smells that were unknown to him. It got him excited because he could only think of two likely sources: exotic, Talent-made, ingredients or enhanced products created with formations or runes—both of which were rare.
Darkened glass panels on each side of the corridor showed blurred contours of what was on the other side. The lights were dimmed, creating a cosy atmosphere. Each table had candles, their flames flickering.
They didn’t enter the main room and were taken to the second floor instead. It was one, long corridor with several doors. The manager led them to the last, double door. He slid it open, revealing a large, exquisitely decorated dining room with a balcony and a view of a valley.
Keynes was aware that Lily of the Valley was a poisonous plant but at the same time, seeing the reserve in its full splendour, the name made sense.
The manager showed them to the large wooden table and asked if they wished any refreshment before the order.
Keynes asked for a glass of water, Vivena did likewise.
When the manager left the room, Vivena asked the bodyguards to step outside, assuring them that Keynes would keep her safe. They didn’t object but their gazes spoke of a different story.
As they closed the door, Vivena sighed.
“It can be tiring,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Keynes asked and realised that some of the tension had left him too. Were the bodyguards the source of that? It might be. They were Level 2 after all. People who moved past Level 1 were considered dangerous by everyone. It was all about the way one levelled up…
“This lifestyle,” she replied. “Maintaining appearances, meeting expectations, following rules.” She smiled, sadly. “My older siblings are better at this than me. They always fit in.”
Keynes didn’t understand her problems. She lived in a different world. To his understanding, money usually solved problems, not created them. But he said nothing on that note, believing that it’d have made him look shallow. Instead, he decided to change the subject and asked.
“This room feels different, don’t you think?”
Vivena nodded with only a hint of previous sadness.
“Glyphs,” he added after realising the source of the strangeness.
“Really? That’s interesting.” It wasn’t. Keynes’s father had used to talk about glyphs all day and by now Keynes was fed up hearing more. But glyphs seemed like a better topic than her problematic lifestyle. “What kind of glyphs?”
“Mostly, the glyph of taste--why are you laughing?”
It took Keynes a few seconds to explain.
“It reminds me of a funny story. My father once brought a glyph of taste home. My mom almost kicked him out of the house for that.”
For some reason, a shock crossed Vivena’s face.
“That’s horrible…”
Luckily for Keynes, they were interrupted. Explaining humour was not his strong suit. A waitress came in with a tray. Keynes watched with curiosity as the waitress placed two crystal glasses, a bottle of water and three glyphs on the table. He recognised one of the glyphs - the glyph of chill. As its name indicated, it decreased the temperature around the glyph. His father had brought a glyph of chill home during heat waves that often passed through San Antonio.
Keynes asked about the other two glyphs as he didn’t know what they were.
“A glyph of freshness and a glyph of revitalisation,” the waitress replied, dipping her head. “Would you like to order or should I return in five minutes?” the waitress asked, her voice trembling.
“I’m ready,” Vivena said, unaffected by the waitress’ distress. “What about you, Keynes?”
He shivered, hearing his name coming from her. He liked it. Warmth spread throughout his chest but he reminded himself about the reason they were here and this odd sensation receded.
Then he looked at the menu. For some reason, Keynes hadn’t looked inside since coming here. He didn’t know what to order.
“I’ll have whatever you get, Vivena,” he said, naively hoping that she’d react the same way he had. She didn’t.
“Pea tart,” Vivena said without hesitation.
The waitress bowed again and hastened out of the room.
Vivena slowly lost her mask and became a different self.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I miss Geneva…” she said more to herself than to Keynes then her eyes found him and her mask returned. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”
“Yeah,” Keynes said off-handedly, unsure if it was the right moment to push for some answers. “I am still wondering why you invited me.”
Vivena didn’t take the bait and asked him questions instead.
“What kind of Talent would you like to get? What do you dream of doing in the future?”
There were many Talents everyone his age wished for: flying, invisibility, super speed, mind reading, immortality and so on, but these Talents were so rare that it was pointless to hope for something that would end in heartbreak. The majority of Talents were bland and weak. And there was a portion of society that got the short end of a stick, receiving inactive Talents, which referred to non-existing things like spells. Those people were treated like non-ascenders with the ascender’s anatomy. They had nothing to offer to society. Keynes felt sorry for them but what could he do to help? Nothing.
What Talent Keynes wished for? It was a great question. He’d given a list of Talents that would pair nicely with his memory to Webster Frog. But his perfect recall; it didn’t reflect who Keynes was and what he loved. Yes, a part of him believed that taking advantage of his unique situation would make him rich and famous. But there was always this itch, this longing to discover the unknown, be it solving a historical mystery or creating a world-changing invention. This was a domain of seeker-type Talents—the type that was both blessing and curse.
“I don’t know about the Talent but I’d like to go into space, see Mars and Venus and the moons of gas giants, then one day go further. That sort of thing.”
Vivena mulled over his answer. Keynes poured the water, curious how the glyphs affected it. Each crystal glass had a large spherical ice cube inside. As he tasted the water, which tasted incredibly good (better than water should), Vivena spoke up.
“My parents can make it happen.” Of course they can. A minute, rational part of Keynes opposed the idea of agreeing to anything this girl had to offer. Her appearance was too calculated and precise. Keynes knew that. The whole situation reminded him of a cheap spy movie with the young lady acting as the right hand of a mysterious villain, luring unsuspecting victims to her boss’ secret lair.
NO.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
Crap.
It wasn’t only the mystery she represented, but her sheer beauty that crossed some threshold in Keynes’s mind. He just wanted to be near her.
“Who are your parents?” Keynes asked.
“Scientists, entrepreneurs, philanthropists - mainly.” She took a sip of water then added. “My parents have a way to influence your Talent and no matter what the military or the government claims, they don’t know how to do it.”
That was very hard to believe. To hide anything from the World Government … how?
The notion raised many red flags but that didn’t matter. Keynes’s mind was already set and he wouldn’t change it.
The waitress returned with their pea tarts, which looked like a piece of art rather than food. It tasted insanely good, but Keynes suspected that the combination of various glyphs enhanced its taste to this level.
Their conversation found its way back to his perfect recall and its limitations. Vivena’s understanding was correct. Keynes couldn’t fully utilise his memory. His brain did not have sufficient processing power. He wasn’t a genius, his intelligence was just above average. Keynes didn’t even know if higher intelligence would have any impact on the speed of his recall. Very little advanced research on ascender biology was publicly available.
For all Keynes knew, he might lose his perfect recall upon ascension to Level 1. Physical strength wasn’t carried over after all.
From there, Vivena moved on to explaining her parents’ offer. Here also came the catch.
“They’ll hire you if you get Talent with an intelligence or mind affinity. Minimum six-figure salary in the beginning.”
Keynes shook his head, mostly to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming.
“Six-figure? Who are your parents, Vivena?”
“They are very rich.” For a brief moment, Keynes believed she would reveal them to be: the Saels, the Earls or the Stonewoods - some of the richest families in the world. But no. “And our name is the Foxgloves.”
Like a poisonous plant? We’re also sitting in a restaurant named after one. That cannot be a coincidence. And who the hell are the Foxgloves? Keynes had never heard that surname. If they were very rich, he’d have read about them on SolNet.
***
Keynes returned home by evening, Harter was out with his friends, his father worked late hours again. That was perfect. Talking to his mother without the company of his brother was always easier, while the presence of his father had always made his mother tougher.
He found his mother in the living room, watching the news. Some minor politicians argued about the newest plan of the World Government: moving the Talent Unlocking Ceremonies to the military bases and an attempt at shaping the formation of Talents.
Keynes ignored the debate and asked if his mother had a moment.
“You’re late,” she asked suspiciously. “Is this about Joe Brown again?”
Keynes shook his head, cursing Harter silently for blabbing about Joe Brown to their mother.
“It’s about something else. You remember the message from Webster Frog?”
“I do. I may not have your memory but I don’t forget easily.” Keynes nodded. “My answer is still a no.”
“I have received another offer.”
His mother turned off the TV and gave Keynes her full attention.
“Which invites you to some experimental government programme? No, Key. You’re not an ascender yet, to risk your future like this.”
His mother’s attitude stemmed mostly from Keynes’s past where he’d been involved in many misguided experiments of his own making. It made her very protective.
Keynes told his mother about Vivena’s offer. She heard him out, seemingly indifferent to the offer, only to shoot it down the second Keynes stopped speaking. He respected his mother vastly, even more than his father who was more of a visitor than part of their household, but there was ground Keynes wouldn’t concede.
“Mum, I have already accepted the offer.” It was a lie, a necessary one.
She sighed, looking defeated.
“You were always like this, going headfirst into trouble. But you are not a child anymore, Key. Your decisions may have dire consequences. Has it crossed your mind that these people may be conmen? Scammers who prey on the gullible?”
“I’m not gullible.”
She shook her head. “That’s not the point.”
“It is,” he told her. “And you may not like it but I will be an ascender soon, which means I will be an adult. No longer asking for permission.”
“But you aren’t an ascender yet and you don’t have my permission.”
***
It was a difficult week. Keynes’s mother didn’t want to hear about the Foxgloves, his father sided with Keynes’s mother. Harter called him insane.
Meanwhile, Vivena messaged Keynes that he and his parents could meet with her parents and talk it over.
The itch only grew stronger and a day before his next Talent class, Keynes couldn’t contain it any longer. If Talent-shaping was possible… he had to try it. A Talent that would pair nicely with his perfect recall could change his life!
No way I am going to miss the chance like this.
On the day of the Talent class, Keynes started a heated discussion. Keynes told his parents that he was going to accept the offer either way.
It worked.
A few hours after the Talent class, Keynes returned home with the address and invitation to see Vivena’s parents. Keynes’s father grumbled about having to leave his work earlier; he'd tried to burden Keynes’s mother with going alone but she’d been adamant about his presence there.
They put on their best clothes, left a message for Harter and were on their way. The Foxgloves lived in the suburbs of San Antonio. A quick search on SolNet showed a ranch with many hectares of uncultivated land.
The house itself stood five minutes drive from the main road, hidden by trees. It had a spacious driveway. The house was built out of sandstone and oak, and while it was large it didn’t indicate anything outrageous Keynes would expect from people who could compete with the World Government.
Vivena and her parents waited at the stairs. Her mother had ruby red hair and wore a contrasting green dress that outlined her silhouette. Her father wasn’t as extravagant and settled for an elegant suit. Vivena had a modest blue dress. It still was enough for Keynes’s mother to say:
“I am starting to see where your determination is coming from, Key.”
Keynes gave her a harsh look.
The Kids didn’t notice it until they approached the Foxgloves. There was power to them. A spiritual pressure Keynes had never experienced. Not even Webster Frog’s spiritual aura had this kind of feeling.
Keynes’s parents tensed up. As Level 1s, their spiritual senses were many times sharper than his, if his could even be called a spiritual sense.
“Welcome to our modest home,” Vivena’s father said with a smile. “We were afraid you may change your mind.”
“Dad,” Vivena grunted softly, then turned to Keynes and his parents. “Please forgive my father, he spends more time in his lab than among people and sometimes forgets good manners.”
“Vivena, dear,” Vivena’s mother said softly but her voice carried authority, then she welcomed the Kid family. “It is a pleasure to have you. My name is Lorelai. This is my husband Frank and our youngest daughter Vivena.”
“The pleasure is ours,” Keynes’s mother replied with a laboured smile. Only Keynes’s father didn’t want to be here more than her. “Nina Kid-Carter, Ewan Kid and our older son Keynes.”
“May I ask,” Ewan Kid said. “What’s with the spiritual pressure?”
Keynes rolled his eyes at his blunt father but Frank Foxglove surprised them by apologising and providing an explanation.
“I’m sorry, we’re Level 5s. Didn’t Viv tell you?”
This revelation stunned Keynes and his parents.
Two Level 5s?!
In a world where levelling up outside the military and a few other occupations was strictly forbidden, meeting a Level 5 was incredibly rare. This information alone made the whole idea less dodgy. It wasn’t a secret that the wealthiest weren’t included in the levelling prohibition.
It took the Kids a moment to collect themselves.
***
The house inside had a rustic design with an expected touch of luxury but like the exterior, nothing outrageous.
There wasn’t much of small talk as Keynes’s and Vivena’s fathers didn’t seem to care about it. They cut to the chase and Keynes had to admit that he wasn’t aware of this side of his father. He was very precise in his questions and clearly knew much more about the System than Keynes.
Keynes’s mother didn’t utter a word during the conversation between Vivena’s and Keynes’s fathers. Vivena had said that her parents were scientists. Keynes’s father could be counted as one too as his work with glyphs required a lot of scientific methodology.
It didn’t last long before the fathers said.
“So, do we have a deal?”
“We do.”
“In that case, we must raise a toast.”
Before anyone could stop Vivena’s father, he left the living room and returned with a bottle of bourbon. Vivena placed four glasses for their parents. Keynes suspected that the alcohol was worth a fortune and he … wanted to try it too.
Of course his parents said no but Keynes wasn’t one to take a no for an answer. He regretted it a few moments later as golden liquid burned his throat. At least they chuckled at his expense.
Vivena had a beautiful smile.
It was a memory Keynes returned home with later that night. Nothing could sour his mood now. Not even his mother’s complaining; she was drunk anyway. And the Foxgloves knew what they were talking about.
Keynes was going to get a perfect Talent.
The world will be mine, he thought, his head dizzy. He was happy.