Chương 14

Kirk felt like he had guzzled a kettle of boiling water. Battle lines of searing heat marched down his throat and invaded his stomach. Kirk coughed and sat down. A conflagration swept through his body, the fever constantly spreading outward. Trembling, Kirk released a long breath and inspected the situation within his body. The heat rampaged through him, burning and baptizing every inch of him. But at a certain point… the heat began to fade. At first, the Beast loosed a noise of curiosity and satisfaction.

But very quickly, even it was alarmed as the uncontrolled energy rampaged. Kirk coughed several more times. Those sharp noises echoed out through the surrounding stillness. Luckily enough, no geos approached. Which left him with the spare attention, as his body recovered, to sense the shift. The small expansion of his Bestial Senses. Because his hearing seemed to reach up to the suffocating mist barrier… and then seep outward to barely encompass the wind currents beyond it. Kirk blinked.

The Beast hissed that they should drink more to see the effects. What if they grew even more powerful? It was practically guaranteed! Kirk glanced sideways. A strange detail occurred to him. Is the phantom less fuzzy than it was previously? Not only were the eyes of the Beast as sharp as always, but there was an intoxicated redness to them. Kirk shook his head. Let's wait. After drinking, the personality of the Archetype is magnified- in that respect, the Maester Council might have a point.

The Archetype is more aggressive and reckless. But if it's just a magnifying of the personality…

"Is the pollution a lie?" Kirk muttered. As the cyclical winds of the Rift swirled, Kirk remained in the ravine and practiced his Runes. The heat steadily faded from his throat as his two Archetypes either absorbed the energy or dispersed it. He first focused on his Ember Rune. He practiced and released the spells until only a little remained in his reserves. Then he closed his eyes and focused on that little magical nucleus. Quickly, Kirk clicked his tongue.

"Maett was right. The syllables are clearer. Sheh… no, Zheh? Zeh?" Each enunciated syllable changed the pulses of energy in the air, as he assembled the pieces to create a Rune. By observing the different results, Kirk began to get a handle on which were most effective and which were slightly off. The rune is filtered through the energy and the Archetype. Kirk reflected. Does that mean… both Archetypes will affect my syllables? He shook his head. If that were the case, there was nothing he could do.

So he focused on what he could control. After several hours of practice, he flicked out an Ember that burned much brighter and scorched the rocks of the ravine. With a grin of satisfaction, Kirk prepared to return. He paused to gather one more vial of the blue liquid; more had seeped out while he was training, then walked up the slope and headed toward the stele. Yet no sooner had Kirk set his foot on the indigo layer than he heard the soft patter of claws. His ears twitched.

Despite the distance, he sensed the presence of a geo-3 laterally along the slope. He hesitated; his energy was largely depleted, but his back ached. Kirk's hand drifted up and tightened on the hilt of the Larian Saber.

"How strange. Because I carried it all this way… I want to use it." With careful steps, he stalked along the slope, following the skritch of claws on stone. Kirk had planned to close the distance slowly and launch a sneak attack, but when he found the geo, his pupils dilated. It was using its teeth to rip off chunks of thigh from a face-down Conduit. Instantly, Kirk's face twisted. All his feelings of helplessness and frustration mutinied in his body. This was what he wanted the power to prevent.

Without thought, Kirk was already moving. Both hands squeezed the hilt. Kirk thundered forward and chopped down with all the force he could muster. The geo just had time to raise its head when he cut through its back. The monster roared, staggered, and collapsed. Just as Kirk grimaced and ripped the weapon from its broken spine, the geo kicked back with one of its legs, toward Kirk's chest. Adrenaline flushed through him as Kirk twisted the Larian Saber across his body to block.

His arms screamed from the sudden movements, but he got the saber up in time. The kick bounced off the slanted weapon and struck his shoulder. With most of the force dispersed, Kirk just staggered backward. The geo used its front legs to crawl away, but Kirk bound after it and chopped off its head. His breathing was already heavy. His shoulders heaved as he looked down at the monster.

"I had the advantage and it still struck back. And my block…" Kirk pressed his lips together as he considered his sore shoulder. He had tried to block, but the movements had been stilted. A new resolve formed in his chest. He needed to practice basic movements with the Larian Saber, every day. No matter how exhausted he was. That way, when his instincts called, he would have an effective answer. With each breath, he recovered his equilibrium. A cooling wind swirled around him.

Kirk tilted his head and listened, but no geos had been drawn by the noise. The wind currents spiralled downward back toward the core. Kirk felt a flicker of sadness as he rolled over the dead Conduit. An unfamiliar face stared back at him, a young-ish man with unshaven cheeks. His eyes were hollow and wide open. Kirk sighed and then reached for the bag slung across the man's shoulder. At the last moment, he flinched. Is it fair to take from the dead? Kirk wavered for a moment.

But then practicality triumphed; if he didn't take these items, they would just languish here. But Kirk did make a mental oath to repay the value of the items he found here many times over, to those who needed it.

"That's the point," Kirk whispered to himself.

"I don't remember my past, so I need to create my own foundations from scratch. And that core belief is fairness." Kirk nodded to himself, slightly pleased. Those words felt right. So he reached again for the bag, prepared to take on a debt he would need to repay. He opened the bag- There was almost nothing inside. Kirk frowned and withdrew a piece of rolled parchment. Then he reached in further and ran his fingers along the bottom. There were only crumbs here, no foodstuffs at all. He looked at the parchment.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. It was a messy, hand-drawn map. It was clearly of the slope, but it was covered with vague scribbles, which were either circled or X-ed. The circles created a zig-zag path down the slope toward some treasure. Kirk lowered the map and looked again at the sunken cheeks of the corpse.

"This is all you had?" The corpse didn't answer. Kirk scoured the area, looking for other bags. The nearby ground was splashed with both the geo's blood and the man's.

"If you had made it through and found the treasure, would you have had enough water to make it back?" Kirk couldn't stop himself from speaking to the corpse. The wind whistled through the empty surroundings. Kirk returned the map to the man's bag. He bowed his head for a second. Then he walked back up the slope, unspeakably exhausted. Kirk sucked in a deep breath when he returned. The night air was cool and the moon above was only a sliver.

Two guards gave Kirk a salute, but he moved past them before they could recognize him. With only the soft light of the crescent moon, shadows seeped up along the path between Rift and Hold. They cluttered the area, stretching toward him; Kirk felt his frustration building. There was just so much to fight against. So much unfairness. So much weakness and tragedy in the world. His thoughts swirled around him, pulling him in a dozen different directions.

The vague outlines were so indiscernible that, without the Beast's growl of warning, Kirk would have flinched at a slight movement by the hold's gates. From the shadows, a tired old Conduit looked up at him. Then the man looked away, staring at the ground. Kirk felt a prickling across his skin, recognizing him from earlier. He had been the one announcing he could be a porter. After an entire day, the man sat here but had been unable to find work. The Beast phantom growled again, a much softer noise.

"Here." Kirk drew out his remaining food and placed it on the ground. A strange instinct surged up from the depths of Kirk's memories; he leaned forward and said.

"Suffering like yours is not the weather."

"What?" The Conduit seemed genuinely bewildered.

"Young Master Albion? What-" The man coughed several times. At the same time, Kirk suddenly flushed, feeling oddly embarrassed. So before they could talk more, he straightened and walked away. Only just as Kirk entered the hold and headed toward the residence quarter did the man finally master his coughs.

"Thank you!" Kirk was still pondering that warm feeling of satisfaction he felt when there was a knock on his tent frame. Maett poked his head through the tent opening and grinned.

"Your loyal private tutor is here~""Greetings, Maett." Kirk smiled. For almost three hours, the two discussed the realities of being a Conduit. Whereas yesterday Maett had given Kirk a primer on both Rune execution and Feats, his experience today had given him the personal context he needed. His inquiries were honed to the result he wanted. During their discussions, Maett's gaze kept drifting sideways to the wine bottles. Kirk rolled his eyes and threw one at the other Conduit's head.

The man laughed and snatched the bottle out of the air, his hand snaking and grabbing onto its neck without difficulty. After the other man left, Kirk rubbed his chin.

"The problem clearly isn't accumulation, especially after I absorbed that bit of the vein marrow. I just need to hone and improve. Since I already have Alien Taste and Alien Moon, I just need time in the Rift to earn Feats." The next morning, Kirk approached the Administrator's building and spoke with an aide. To his relief, he didn't interact with Ranya. The aide informed him that it was indeed possible to go on two patrols in a row, so he could have an uninterrupted stretch to delve into the Rift.

"In addition," The aide said at the end.

"Waiver of the responsibility of patrol is one of the key benefits of a Retained Troop. Should Young Master Albion inquire, I'm sure many would be willing to accept you." As Kirk left, he frowned. He didn't like the suggestion of joining a Troop for two reasons. First, the aide's attitude made it clear that it would be because of his family name that he could get a foot in the door. Second, he remembered the way that domineering troop had shouted, forcing the people who had waited in line out of the way.

That arrogance was not what he wanted for his life. For the next two days, Kirk got up in the morning to go on patrol. The first day with two experienced Conduit 0s; Kirk believed he recognized one from the group that hung around the hold's gates, but didn't want to pry. The air between them was a heavy silence, filled with the two Conduits giving Kirk glances when they thought he wasn't looking, but it was better than questions.

On his way back through the hold, Kirk stopped by the merchant quarter- the remaining vein marrow he sold for 12 silver, and Kirk could guess that was mostly because the merchant was giving him a good deal, because of his Albion Family name. Bringing in rare materials and only earning this much… setting aside the cost of the supplies, the chance of being wounded… to reach the amount of gold required to purchase catalytics…. Kirk grimaced. For a weak Conduit, what hope is there?

Once more, his resolve to Ascend within the Rift, then perhaps use his own success to prove the pollution wasn't as dangerous as stated, was reaffirmed in Kirk's heart. So he took that silver and purchased more fire-aligned geo cores. In the evening, Maett came again, further refining Kirk's understanding of Feats.

"Broadly, there are three categories of Feats: Capability, Accomplishments, and Special Blessings. Don't wring your rag over Blessings- they are fickle and unpredictable. Meanwhile, Capability Feats are those that appear naturally as the world recognizes your own ability." Kirk nodded: Solo Kills was this sort of Feat, recognizing his abilities while alone.

"The other big category is Accomplishments. Specific demonstrations- you might be blind, but with enough luck lodged in your posterior, you might still earn a valuable Feat by chance. Heh, actually, I much prefer to chase these sorts of Feats. The admiring glitter of an audience…" The second morning, Kirk went again on Patrol with his original partners. The sullen and grouchy Rufus contrasted with the bright-eyed Clara. Plus, as the tensions thawed, the rest of the morning became very educational.

Clara seemed an encyclopedia of plant knowledge. Kirk could point and her eyes would brighten; she would happily list off all its secrets.

"A grey elm! Well developed too. Look at the size of those leaves. The nuts aren't very tasty, but they are extremely nutritious. People have been known to survive an entire winter eating only those nuts.

"Oh wow, blue tip ferns! I had no idea they could endure this far north! Those leaves, when temperatures drop below a certain amount, curl up until they look like straws.

"Are those Ash Poppies?! That means, about ten years ago, a fire must have-""Clara," Rufus groaned.

"Please. We don't need every detail. Besides, what does Kirk care-""It's actually very interesting." Kirk shrugged. For whatever reason, Rufus's scowled at him. But he ignored the dour boy.

"Please, keep explaining."

"Really? Okay." Clara hesitated, but when Kirk pointed to a group of small blue flowers, the brief hesitation evaporated.

"Bluebells. Actually, those are my favorites."

"They match your eyes," Kirk said in a moment of connection. What he wasn't expecting was for Clara to twist, look at him, and when she smiled- Kirk stilled for a moment, just looking at her vulnerable smile. The rest of the patrol passed quickly, although Kirk had difficulty listening to the details. He kept replaying that smile, over and over again, in his head. His body felt buzzing, his skin clammy. Even his Beast Archetype felt vaguely twitchy.

If he didn't know better, he would say that looking at Clara's smile had gotten him sick. Yet that was pushed from his mind as he returned to the hold and saw two familiar figures. He raised a hand, happy for the distraction.

"Maett! Zuri." In a column of other Conduits returning from the Rift for lunch, Maett immediately brightened. He swaggered over and offered Kirk a bow.

"My brightest and simultaneously dullest pupil! How goes your quest for Feats-""Maett." Zuri interrupted. Her eyes were tense and frosty as she looked at Kirk.

"We don't have time." Then she just walked away. Maett gave Kirk a helpless glance, flashed a series of complex and indecipherable hand signs with his fingers, and then followed. For a long time, Kirk stood there. After feeling like he was finally building relationships as his new self… The sudden denial hurt.