Soren and Leia strolled leisurely amidst the chaos, collecting stray essences. The halls were packed with battling guards and prisoners, but few dared to test the man playing with crimson fire. Those who did, found themselves regretting their decision. The rest ignored them, heeding the unspoken warning. Their wisdom served them well.
Soren concentrated on the flow of Mana. By moderating the supply, he could sustain the fire for longer. The result was a crimson flame of lesser heat, weak in combat but perfect for intimidation.
“Why aren’t we absorbing the essences?” Leia questioned, her hands packed with crystals. She received no response. “Should we not consume them to get stronger?”
Soren wondered if he should pick a less inquisitive companion.
“Where are we going?” the woman asked again.
“To get a boat,” Soren relented.
“Are we leaving the island?”
He gave no answer. The silence was uncomfortable, a clear indication not to speak that Leia summarily ignored.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“…”
“How did you damage that thing? Bullets phased through it like it wasn’t even there,” she said. She could have sworn she heard a sigh.
“Magic can harm umbrals,” Soren answered.
“You know their names?” Leia exclaimed.
“Their species,” he specified.
“Really? What species are they? What are they made of? Where do they come from? Are they omnivores or do they have specific diets?”
“…”
It took her quite some time to get the hint that Soren did not wish to talk. Her questions persisted as they broke into a couple of offices, procuring a card key, which they used to open the main warehouse. In the cramped storage, they found food supplies and some discarded uniforms.
“Put it on,” Soren said, handing her a uniform and a sandwich. He packed two rucksacks full of food and water, and a third with the essences they had picked up.
“Thank you,” Leia said appreciatively, savouring her first bite of solid food in years.
“Why is it soggy?”
“…”
Holding the sandwich between her teeth, she buttoned up her shirt, zipped up her pants, and slung the backpack over her shoulder.
“Not much food down there, you know,” she quipped, and Soren could not help but chuckle.
“Not much of anything, really,” he agreed with a wry smile.
“You can say that again.”
She hesitated.
“The Magic. Can you teach it to me?” she asked with a shaky whisper. Her cheek twitched.
“I cannot.”
She bit her lip, drawing blood.
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“Please, I will do anything you want,” she pleaded, her hand caressing his stomach and inching downward.
“Don’t do that,” Soren rebuked, scarlet pupils simmering with thinly veiled anger as he shoved her arm away. His gaze felt like it would sear a hole through her chest.
Leia jerked back like a chastised cat. “I-I’m so sorry.” She folded at the waist, lowering her head as far as her flexibility allowed.
A sandwich met her bowed gaze. “It’s not that I don’t want to teach you, but I myself learned it by accident,” Soren explained after seeing her fearful expression.
“You’re very beautiful—don’t get me wrong—I just don’t appreciate being manipulated,” he added. If he wanted her to cooperate, he had to instill belief in her.
“I just feel so vulnerable. I want to be able to protect myself,” she confessed, tears welling in her eyes.
“When I killed the fire mage,” Soren spoke. “I had to cancel its spell, and I saw how the Mana flowed. Then, I gained a title. Now all I need to do is think of an image and it materializes,” A fireball manifested on his palm. “I think, and the Mana follows,” Soren said, but the words failed to capture what the body experienced. Their limited nature diluted the language of the flesh. “This isn’t your path. It’ll take some time, but you’ll find what works for you.”
Her head hung low as she pondered his words.
“Come. We’re leaving this place.” Soren strode ahead.
“Really?” Leia exclaimed in joy, her dejection dispersing. She had dreamed of escaping this prison, had spent the nights yearning for a soft bed and warm sheets, salivating at the thought of a warm meal.
“Come and see for yourself.”
Together, they made their way through the chaotic hallways to the pier, when suddenly, Leia was shoved to the ground, a powerful heat enveloping her.
‘It’s over. He wants to kill me with a view,’ she thought, resigning herself to her fate. Why would he do it this way? Why would he be so cruel for no reason? The questions gnawed at her as she prepared to die, but sensation stubbornly clung to her, refusing to fade. When the temperature dropped, Leia opened her eyes to find an outstretched hand offered to her. She accepted, feeling the strength in his gaunt grip as he pulled her up. Once standing, she noticed the low wall he had pushed her behind; he had been trying to save her.
“Sorry about that, just me being paranoid,” Soren apologized.
“It’s ok. Thank you for thinking of me. Just give me a warning next time,” she joked as she dusted herself off.
“I can't do that,” Soren replied, deadly serious. “Giving you a warning is akin to alerting the enemy of my next move.”
That was a hard no. Soren cherished his life. Even if he ever wanted to die, he’d go out in a blaze of glory, not by committing the oldest blunder in the book.
Without another word, Soren guided Leia onto the fastest-looking boat—his best method of determining its speed—and leaped onto another vessel.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him kneel on the deck.
“Eliminating risks.”
His hands burst into flames. The fire drilled through the hull, creating a sizable hole. Water surged in, but before the boat could fully sink, he jumped onto the next one, repeating the process until only one boat was left.
With a final leap, he joined Leia and handed her a compass and a map. “Set course to the west. We should reach the coast by morning,” he instructed as he passed her the key. Oftentimes—he had learned—giving orders was more effective than making requests.
Leia accepted the role of captain without objection, though her brow furrowed in thought. Could it that Soren had felt something on that pier? I mean, if shadow creatures existed, why shouldn't ghosts be real? It might very well be the case that there was actually something present, and it had retreated when Soren responded.
“Soren, how high is your Perception?” she asked, her curiosity evident.
Soren pulled up his status window.
Name: Soren
Species: Vakus Human
Rank: Common
Titles: {Manatouched}-[Epic], {Unyielding}-[Rare], {Belligerent}-[Uncommon], {Uncommon Executioner}-[Uncommon], {He who walks the Path of Evolution}-[Common]
Level: 1
Health: 22.6/92
Mana: 0.7/6
Vitality: 0.5 (1)
Durability: 1.1 (1.2)
Strength: 0.4 (0.8)
Agility: 1.4 (1.9)
Dexterity: 0.6 (1.3)
Intelligence: 5.6
Wisdom: 1.5
Perception: 3.8
Willpower: 1.9
Charisma: 0.1
“Three point eight,” he stated, unperturbed, as if it were normal.
Leia jerked her head from the helm. That was ridiculous. Even if he were eating essences like candy, it would've taken days for him to achieve that.
“All my stats are below 1,” she exclaimed, flabbergasted.
“You mean while weakened?” Soren asked, his tone skeptical.
“No, at peak condition. How did you even get it that high?” she wondered, recalling the ease with which he had dispatched guards and prisoners alike.
Soren, in his usual manner, ignored her question and walked to the stern of the boat. “I’m going to get some sleep. Your backpack’s stocked with food. Wake me up if there’s anything wrong,” he announced, placing the crystal-filled rucksack on his lap, and nestling onto the small, leather couch.
Should be cautious about sharing such information in the future, he mused as he drifted to sleep.