Chương 84: The Enu and the Skydart

Evel lay flat on the hill, beneath the broad spread of the tree's branches. By day, the treeline surrounding Ichoris ran green and purple. Now, under nothing but moonlight and the city's distant glow, it had all gone indigo. He watched the stars, still, while crickets kept up their steady chirring. A small chirp through. He dropped his eyes from the distant sky to the branch just above him, and even in the dark, it took him only a moment to find it. A nest made of straw, and in an odd peanut shape.

His face softened as he recognized the bird. An enu. Small blue little creatures known for their extreme fertility and their oddly shaped nests. Rick had introduced them to him, along with all the most common wildlife. Of course, that was before… Evel took a deep breath, and his gaze returned to the stars. Another chirp came from the next. Then another. With a soft exhale, he pushed himself to his feet. If the birds were already out, dawn would soon break, and he couldn't lie there forever.

Dusting off his clothes, he adjusted his top hat and turned to leave. Caw! One bird's song didn't sound like the rest. Turning back, he looked closer and could barely make out the shape of the bird. It had a triangular head and spanned featherless wings lined with a row of scales. A beast he was all too familiar with. The skydart. It wasn't a ridiculous size like the one from the recruitment trial, but it still loomed over the small enu chicks who chirped, demanding food.

Unlike other birds of its size, the skydart was a strict carnivore. It hunted down parent birds with recently laid eggs and infiltrated their nest. With a strong distaste for worms, the vicious birds instead fed them to the young hatchlings, fattening them up for a more luxurious meal. The skydart gladly fed the guileless chicks, preparing for its very own feast in the future.

It wasn't all too different from what humans did with livestock, and the reason for it was simple: All the weak can do is follow the rules laid out. Evel turned his back to the hill, rolling his shoulders until his collarbones popped in the quiet air. He had a bit of time before his training session with Albert, where a rest pod could relieve him of his physical exhaustion. Time he wouldn't waste. Taking out his deck, he first practiced his card-flicking technique.

Each metal card sliced through the air and dug deep into the thick trunk. Occasionally, the indigo leaves that softly drifted through the air would be sliced instead. When he was done, he walked up to the trunk and removed all the cards, one by one. He returned to his original position and began throwing again. Once he'd exhausted all his cards, he repeated the cycle again. His breathing grew heavy as he kept throwing, slicing deeper and deeper into the tree.

The tendons connecting his forearm to his fingers were fully swollen, but he kept throwing. He threw the next card, like all the rest. Except this one fell short, never reaching the tree. Releasing a shaky breath, he retrieved all the cards and put them away. He allowed his hands to rest and broke into an extreme sprint. He ran fast. Faster er than he ever had. The world fizzed into a blur around him as he dodged the trees in the way. He didn't stop until his body collapsed forward from exhaustion.

For a while, he lay motionless on the soft dirt bed.

'Rick really did catch the bad guys…' Gritting his teeth, his hands dug into the turf. Squeezing the green blades, he tore them from the roots before pushing his entire fists into the ground to push himself up. Catching himself from falling again, he practiced the footwork Albert had beaten into him, his boots kicking up first as the morning glow of dawn slowly began illuminating the world.

He summoned Eth, leaving the hand motionless as his fists continuously crashed into the rough wood of the tree, shredding the fickle bark in every direction. His breathing grew heavy, and erratic as his fists relentlessly tore into the trunk. Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. No matter how many times he punched or how much his knuckles bled, he couldn't compress his aura. He just couldn't break through.

Finally feeling the warmth of the morning sun on his neck, Evel stopped. He picked up all of his belongings, fixed up his dirtied clothes, and then left toward Albert's house, his steps uneven and staggered. Once he got into the rest pod, he'd feel a little better. Albert was already outside, tending to his garden, when Evel arrived. His eyes travelled to Evel's bleeding fist.

"Didn't you use the rest pods yesterday, too?"

"Yes." Evel pushed through the door without waiting for a reply and walked straight into the basement. Inserting the small blue cylinder of fuel into the rest pod, Evel entered the large grey container, lying flat on his back. With a hiss, the cover closed over him and rapidly filled with a steam-like substance. Ten minutes later, the lid opened, releasing the cloud-like steam into the room, then out the window. Evel walked into the kitchen, where breakfast was already prepared.

The portions were much larger than usual.

"I didn't quite imagine you had a late night meal," Albert explained, as he took a small sip of his tea.

"Thank you." Evel sat down and rushed through the meal as quickly as he could.

"No tea?" Albert nodded to the pot between them. Finishing his last bite, Evel shook his head.

"Not today, thank you. I think I'll start the weight training early while you finish up here." Albert's eyes lingered, his expression unchanging from his normal, peaceful smile. After a few seconds, he blinked.

"Sure." Evel returned to the basement and flowed into his regular training session. The next two hours were those filled with metal and sweat. Each lift, each rep, each set, he didn't stop until his muscles cried. With each exercise, it became abundantly clear how much time he'd been wasting in the past, not truly pushing himself to the limit. At the end of the two hours, Albert arrived. After a brief break and a stem pack, Evel pushed back on his feet and raised his arms high.

The two traded blows back and forth relentlessly. Other than the occasional comment by Albert on his footwork or lack of strategy, the only sound echoing off the basement walls was grunts of struggle and exertion. The next hour after that, Evel was permitted to use both his ability and his cards. By the end, a bruised Evel emerged from the basement alongside an almost untouched Albert. They walked to the kitchen and silently worked together on the next meal. When sparring came first, Albert prepared the meals.

On days like this, when the exercise came first, Evel would help the best he could. Eventually, Evel finally spoke up.

"Is two a week really the most you'll allow?" Albert sipped on the broth, then sprinkled in more salt. After properly mixing it in, he offered the ladle to Evel.

"Hmm, try this." Evel complied and sipped some of the broth.

"It tastes fine." Albert sipped it himself and smacked his lips a few times.

"I'm not really restricting you." He finally replied.

"That's just my personal comfort limit. If you're willing to pay, you can use my cleansing services as often as you'd like."

"How much?" His teacher sprinkled in a bit more salt before trying it again.

"There we go." He pushed another spoonful to Evel, "Here."

"How much?" Evel repeated, leaning away from the Albert sighed and placed the utensil aside.

"50 credits. And you'll probably have to get cleansed once every two weeks. That's with every discount I could give you." Evel's eyes lingered on his teacher's face. He needed more credits.

"Is there a way to transfer Riak to credits?" The performances were netting a great profit, but it was all stuck in Riak. On average, credits seemed to be about five times more valuable than Riak, but there was no way, as far as he knew, to actually transfer between the two currencies.

"It's very illegal to trade one currency for the other, since credits are supposed to reflect your deeds," Albert replied, wiping down the counter of all the spilled fluids from training.

"However, there are occasional tasks that can only be completed by spending Riak, and the reward is in credits." Placing the cloth down, Albert grabbed the pot and moved it to the table. Evel followed suit, grabbing two bowls from the pantry.

"Can I—""No. You need to remain undercover. Agent can help you to a certain extent, transferring Riak from Eth to Evel, but you can only take on these transferring tasks once Agent's job for you is complete. Also, they're pretty few and in between, and a few Banners in this city have a monopoly on those tasks." Evel sat down and served himself his stew while his mind remained fixed on the simple math of his credits. Risen Vials cost 40 each, so if he were to take three a week, then that would be a total of 120.

Alternatively, three Sunken Vials were 30, but then he'd have to pay 80 a week, including the cleansing. No, it's bi-weekly. The cost would be reduced to 55. Alternatively, he could just spend 20 for the sunken vials and pay 40 for an extra risen vial, which was barely just more expensive. Or he cou—"Evel, I'll say it again. Your speed of progression is remarkable for your age and affinity. If you remain consistent, you're all but guaranteed to hit Weaver even if you stop taking the elixirs.

There's no need to rush." Evel raised his eyes from his stew to match Albert's gaze.

"And after?"

"After?"

"After I advance to Weaver with a strong foundation." Albert shrugged.

"Then you continue from there after confirming your priorities. Power is useful, but not if you lose yourself. Look at me, for example. I used to think all I needed to do was climb the path, but things change regardless of your wants." Evel clenched his jaw.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be like you," He paused.

"Always slaving away on other people's whims." Albert narrowed his eyes. In the oppressive silence, only the soft clink of Albert's spoon returning to his bowl broke through. Evel let out a sharp breath and focused back on his meal. Neither of them talked for the remainder of the meal. After he finished, he brought the dishes to the kitchen and immediately left the house, mumbling a quick "Thank you," as he left out the front door. It was a Sunday, and already two weeks after his first performance in the main city.

Another opportunity to get information had finally presented itself, and with it, all the credits he needed.