“You can’t keep leaving me behind and walking off,” Astrette said, pointing at me with a spoon. She faltered, lowering it. “You’re not fully recovered.”
“Oh? So you keep reminding me,” I whispered, not looking up from my plate. Yellow tubers, boiled and salted lightly, complimented by a side of tiny sardine-like fish caught from the nearby river. The fifth day of the week was the only time we were allowed to indulge ourselves in a feast like this. Always five hours before sunset. “But why’s that exactly? I know my body… It’s telling me I should be healed by now.”
Ylrenci roughly stabbed her fork into the yam-like vegetable. “You mean to say I’m hindering your health?” she asked, a calm intensity hidden behind her words. She ate—open-mouthed—glaring, beyond just annoyed. “Say it clearly.”
I considered her tone, then smiled. “No, I’m saying I don’t need treatment anymore. I’ll heal fine without it.”
Astrette grimaced, visibly bothered by her master’s current temperament. “Now, now,” she said, forcing a smile, bringing a handkerchief to her lips. “Certainly, that sounds like a brilliant idea. But if we stop your treatment here, we might risk Backlash.”
“Backlash?” I asked, bringing a hand to my face, feeling a profound sense of annoyance. I pointed to Evio, the youth was skin and bones, flesh pale and clammy. He somehow looked worse than he did before he showed up. “Look at the kid after your treatment, if that isn’t ‘Backlash’ what is?”
At that, Astrette drew her lips into a thin line. She did so whenever I started asking too many questions about their so-called healing arts.
Ylrenci, clicked her tongue, pushing her plate away in distaste. “Quit your tantrum,” she said, bringing a mug of steaming black tea to her lips. The vapors rose but didn’t so much escape the mug's rim, and from experience, I knew the contents weren’t hot. The drink, however, was also not frosty either but it did have an almost painful minty taste to it. She took a sip, contentment washing over her face.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Ylrenc—”
“Backlash,” she interrupted, eyes dilating, her overall posture relaxing. “In medical terms, is the Intent of the vitality of plants we inject into your body to escape and rejoin the natural cycle of Eszs’Kayil. See, we bind and force it to heal our bodies using archglyphs, but it is not our own. It needs time to meld with our own vital energy—or it will escape.”
She sighed out a burst of minty, condensed air, eyelids drooping. “Your body grows weaker because of the energy required to assimilate the herbs’ foreign Intent to live with your own.”
I blinked, though much of that was alien knowledge, it did make sense. Somehow. Grumbling, I nodded, satisfied with her explanation. “How long until the treatment is finished?”
“Normally, it’d be two more months,” Ylrenci said, lethargically placing the mug on the table. She impaled a dozen of the little fish, dipping them in a red spicy sauce. “But given your enhanced biology, a week. Maybe less.”
I touched my smooth scalp, feeling a profound emptiness. “Then my hair will start growing back?”
Astrette chortled lightly, amused by my pain.
Ylrenci smiled oh-so-knowingly. They both knew what I felt at the loss of my hair. “Perhaps,” she said in a way that ripped at my soul. “The human body is a mysterious and complex thing, after all.”
I could only groan in response, feeling a twist in my stomach. ‘…I just got them back…’
“One thing I know for certain, though,” she said, filling her mug with more of the tea. The dense smoke poured down first, like a heavy mist, then came the black liquid. “Is you’ll be in perfect health once it’s over. Definitely stronger.” She turned her dopey gaze toward Evio. “Then you can get this little brat back to his family.”
The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“…Hey, brat,” I said softly, gently, my voice paternal yet edged when a subtle sternness. That seemed to surprise him but took an even bigger toll on Astrette and Ylrenci. They gaped, I ignored their stares. “You never told us what—or who—left you to death in that field…”
“I…” he hesitated, shutting his eyes tightly.
“It’s alright,” I said, bringing a hand to his shoulder. “I may be a bastard, but I’m one with integrity… I’ll right the wrongs done to you… If you are willing to share.” And it’d be comforting to know a even a bit about the boy.
He stopped shaking, opening his pale green eyes. Those eyes…so full of life…so pure were now changing as his expression darkened. “Fire… I don’t remember much,” he said, touching his scarred cheek gently. “But my mother, everyone, they were burned. Bodies on top of bodies, cut up, played with…wronged…so much screaming…so much…pain.”
“Setting a village on fire?” Ylrenci said, furrowing her brows in disgust. “That doesn’t sound like Corrupted.”
Evio nodded solemnly. He looked down at his food. “Eira helped me escape—she was my older sister, she carried me…wounded far worse than I was…running from the men in red… I’m not sure… what happened once the smoke got so bad it completely blinded me… Taking my breath…” He stopped, voice growing hoarse. He choked down a sob. “I don’t…know…”
I watched the wretched kid, the memories overwhelmed him and he broke into a fit, trembling; eyes shaking. I knew that feeling, it was enough to push a man to madness if not dealt with correctly.
“Nights Crimson,” Ylrenci said, watching Astrette comfort the boy with rare empathy. She looked at me, searching for something in my expression, then sighed. “A band of bandits…they’re responsible for a number of ruthless raids along the Coastal Tradeway… I never thought they’d encroach this deep into Ndalpar.”
“They don’t?” I asked, heart churning. The sheer dread on Evio’s face was a mirror of the mask I wore growing up. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgust—
“Right,” Ylrenci was saying, “usually they stalk the trade ways between the coastal city of Ahran and the Western Throngways to the Runescape. Merchants frequent these roads, you see.” She snorted, expression darkening with revulsion. “They aren’t the biggest—or the worst—bandit band, but they love playing with fire.”
“So they kill and raid for profit?” I mused, rubbing my smooth chin. Astrette had taken to shaving it, though I told her time and time again I could do it myself. “Why’d they rob some poor village in the outskirts?”
Stretching, Ylrenci stood slowly, joints popping loudly. She sniffed her black powder, glanced at the weeping child, then at me. “I’m going out,” she said flatly, excusing herself. Her steps light, confident. There was a dignified aura to the woman, and she maintained it well.
“Guess I’ll retire, too.”
Astrette glared at me, comforting the orphan. Her gaze held a thousand words.
I smiled, patting Evio’s back as I made my retreat. “My word is my bond. Once I heal, we head to the coast. To Ahran.”
A bustling coastal city? One which was a hub of trade by Ylrenci’s account? ‘What riches await me there, I wonder?’ I thought, walking to the open window in my room. The sun was setting, darkness would blanket the world soon.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. Desire coursed through my very veins. It burned. Unbearably so, like my blood was replaced by magma. It was a deep pain that seared hotter with each passing day. “I will rule,” I found myself saying, not quite meaning to speak the words aloud. But by Sein’s True Name, I would.
Against men. Against their gods.
***
I woke to a sharp chill in my lungs. The frost spread, biting through my body, flowing rampantly. It reached my heart, then the frigid tempest calmed. With the pain gone, I could feel my awareness shift back to my normal senses. First sight, then smell, followed by hearing. The world became solid, observable as the chilling pain subsiding.
I shivered, sitting up. The cold was still bone-deep, but I couldn’t help but focus on something else. My body gave off a faint, bluish luminescent vapor. Rapidly, my muscle mass returned, not an instant change—but one fast enough to observe by the naked eye.
Squinting, I saw the vapor wasn’t smoke but clusters of tiny shapes. I would’ve missed the detail, but the way they spun, becoming slightly bigger before popping out of existence—or maybe popping further into existence was alluring.
I steadied my breath, wiping the sickly sweat off my brows. The tremors in my body stopped, and I stood; my body healed. Strengthened. I walked into the kitchen downing a flask of cool water. My stringy chest now bulged with lean muscles, striating with each breath. My abs visible despite my full stomach.
Quenched, I walked out the door, slowly breaking off into a jog, then a full sprint. The midnight air stung against my bare chest, but brimmed with so much energy—feeling so alive—after weeks, I barely felt it. In moments I was out of the village, dashing at a speed no mere man could reach.
I drank in the feeling. Freedom. At last. I needed to feel more of it. I couldn’t help it. So I Sparked my soul. My speed doubled; tripled; quadrupled and I jumped. No. It felt like I pushed the earth down and flew. My veins burst with light as my heartbeat reversed.
A deep breath, lungs filled to their maximum. I could smell everything. The crisp earthy scent of grass I just crushed, the lakes vaguely fishy smell. The smell of blood. My blood. It leaked from pores, spilling in streams and I gave it a solid shape.
Dozens of thin tendrils drilled into the earth tens of meters beneath me, stretching as though it had the properties of rubber. They propelled me further, like an arrow loosed from a strained bowstring.
I closed my eyes, feeling the wind take loose trousers. Spinning, I completely and suddenly took control of my momentum, then smashed against the earth feet first, skidding to a halt against the soft, moist dirt. It didn’t hurt.
The Spark died and my heart lurched back to its natural pace.
My hair fell to the ground, blown away by the wind. It seemed I’d have to grow it back the same way every man and woman did. I smiled. The darkness consumed it all, practically blinding me without Soulsparking.
“So,” I said, clenching my fist. Power still raged, urging me to move. “The training done in the Mental World translates perfectly to the real world, depending on precise the values I use are.”
Values being my stats.
‘Speaking of…’
Stats
Name: Renith
Title: Cardinal of Sin
Race: Human
Age: 21
Wise: 8 [+95]
Vitality: 28 [+25]
Agility: 13 [+375]
Endurance: 15 [+1005]
Strength: 29 [+550]
XP: 0
SP: 0
There was a spike in Vitality and Wise stats. My base strength also increased by a margin… However, my agility decreased. Why was that?
“Maybe because I was sick for so long?” I said, jumping, stretching. “Or is it a specification of Ylrenci’s treatment? Focusing on increasing a person’s life force, thus strengthening them but not doing much for abstract values such as ‘vitality’?”
I paused, chuckling. No, there was no way she could adjust specifications like that. It’s not like she knew I was virtually a video game character. Neither could she tinker with those values by design. “Let’s chalk it up to bed rest syndrome.”
Anyway…
I looked back in the direction of the village. It’d be a few hours of hiking if I walked back. “Enough time to think of a solid plan to make my goals a reality, I reckon.”
I stretched, dusting my shoulders. Ah… Three days. I’d make the village mine in three days.
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