Chương 52

The truth is a stormclad wave. It will lift you up. It will bury you. Chartermark Leaderboard - Phaar Region Temra Kalkos Janovan Saar Yvain Staal Adhira Demir Viv Gardiva … To the surprise of none, Adhira was still in the top five. In fact, she hadn't moved at all, still sitting at rank 4. The rest of the top ten, however, had shifted dramatically. Temra Kalkos, whoever she might be, was still comfortably in first place, while the top five seemed to have shuffled themselves like a pack of playing tiles.

Ranks 6 through 10 were likewise thrown about, with a few names exiled into the teens. What could have possibly happened to these people to cause this? Were they fighting Aberrants by the dozen, finding treasures, or had they discovered some grand improvement for their refinement or Talent? Perhaps it was all of the above. Harker ran his attention down the rest of the list. His memory was good but it wasn't infallible—many names were familiar, but he had no idea of their original placement.

Only the top and bottom of the list had concerned him before, and both had— … Ashur Fife Harker Shoalborn Celia Torwik Oswick Hammerhold Relief blossomed alongside a dull sort of shock—for a moment, Harker forgot to breathe at all. I did it… Air escaped him in a rush, skin warming across his neck and face even as his muscles twitched uncertainly across his shoulders and legs. It was as if his body wanted to sit on the ground and flee all at the same time.

Harker settled for locking his knees and leaning against the Charterstone. It thrummed with a sporadic warmth. He'd made it into the top 100, which meant he stood a chance at entering the Academy. This is, if he could hold his position. At rank 98, he was still dangerously close to being excluded. He'd have to continue his improvements if he wanted a chance at acceptance. A grin stamped his features regardless. It worked! Challenging himself and pushing his boundaries had helped him rise—how far was uncertain.

Since the ranking only went to 100, he had no way of knowing where he'd started this journey. Now that he was on the board though, Harker was going to make careful note of his progress. He had no way of knowing how much his tributaries had affected things, but as soon as he established a Current, Harker could watch his ranking soar. He couldn't keep his eyes from flicking toward the trailhouse. To Adhira.

What a Hollow Hold trained noble with Dual Talents forgot about Currents could put Harker into the top 75 at least. That would require asking the girl for help… Harker put that from his mind. There were more realistic options to consider. Like making it all up by himself… or finding a Lighthouse and raiding their library for instructional tomes. I believe there's one in Kvet, the last stop before leaving the island toward Kesca. Harker groaned, rotating his stiff shoulder.

Kvet was past the Gnarl and through a hundred miles of wilderness. The build up of impurities is getting worse. Will I last until Kvet? Meanwhile, the other Aspirants were ranking up. Perhaps even completing Ordeals entirely. They had a great deal more time to get used to their Talents than he, and likely more resources by far. Law 1B—Want Nothing. Yet he wanted this. The ranking was proof of his efforts and growth. Evidence that he was no longer… No longer what? Harker shoved himself away from the Charterstone.

No matter where he went or what Vestige bonded to his soul, he was still himself. For better or worse. His goal was to complete his Ordeals and settle his foundations. The progress of others was not within his control. He stepped back, leaning on his heels as he considered his options. First off, his Current needed to be addressed first and foremost, but soon after he'd have to refine his body. Was there time before he reached the Travelspire?

Harker was aware that while establishing a Current was something done over hours or days, refining one's body could take weeks or months depending on the quality and extent of refinement. What little Denar's guidebook said about refinement, it made it clear that one was supposed to start with the skin and work inward—the same advice Harker had been hearing his entire life. It made sense in many ways.

Hardening the skin and strengthening muscle would aid a Talent in fighting Aberrants as well as armor them against the pressures of Descent. But Harker was a healer. The internal organs and blood vessels were the most fragile parts of the human body, upset not only by physical violence but by changes in temperature or exposure to foreign elements. Refining the organs and blood first would help alleviate those risks. If it was that beneficial, why do some never bother with it before First Depth?

Am I missing something obvious? Lightning crashed. Harker squinted upward, surprised to see the dark of night swarmed by silvered clouds. Wind gusted, nearly bowling Stillwater over as more lightning traced the underbelly of the heavens.

"Storm's upon us!" Stillwater laughed, spreading his arms as the roar of falling water reached Harker's ears. He turned and fled for the trailhouse. Rain chased him, a wall that soaked his heels even as he slammed through the broken front door. He halted, confronted by the warm glow and heated wash of a large fireplace across the room. The chamber was large, perhaps fifty feet square, and the vast majority of it was dominated by a series of broken tables and chairs.

There were three dark hallways leading further into the mountain, but they were half-choked with debris. Nearest the fireplace, a wide pallet bed had been dragged from one of the adjoining rooms. A heavy mattress clung to its surface, sagging and stained, but clean if the smell was any indication. It was clearly designed for a single person, and already a fine bedroll had been spread over it along with an embroidered pillow. Adhira stood near the fire, feeding the legs of several broken chairs into its hungry maw.

"Is that a storm?" Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Harker shook his arms, flinging droplets everywhere. Thunder rolled through the room.

"No. The sky always does that." She pursed her lips, but didn't bite.

"Come here. Get dry." She set down the broken wood and dusted her hands off.

"I'll secure the door. Feel free to scrounge what you can from the other rooms. I claimed the only mattress. Sorry." Harker took several steps into the room, just enough to move out of Adhira's path to the doorway. Water rolled inward as the rain clattered against the mountain hard enough to form rivulets across the packed dirt floor. It grew by the second, pushing inward toward the fire. Adhira clucked her tongue once.

"I had to do this last time, too. Bulwark!" She stomped her foot down at the side of the threshold and dragged it across. Her boot scuffed a line of green-blue Water that sank into the earth before pouring back upward in a shower of dirt. Her Bulwark sealed off the door completely, halting the flood.

"Much better." She dusted off her hands.

"Eat. Rest. It's been a while since we did either."

"Rest. Right." Harker unclenched his jaw though his nails were digging into his palms. The clarity he'd felt only minutes ago had fled like chill before a flame. She had sealed off the only exit. Resting wasn't his first concern. Of course, that didn't stop his stomach from growling. Soon enough, the both of them were sitting at the table, eating through her food. Adhira had laid out a spread on one of the surviving tables.

Trail rations, bread, cheese, dried fruit, and even some salted fish were out on wooden platters she'd scrounged from somewhere. The fire crackled, popping randomly as it consumed chair legs, and the rain outside the earthen wall thudded as fast as a drummer's tattoo. It was oddly calming, despite the uncertainty between them. That didn't stop Harker from considering his options, however.

"How thick is that wall?"

"Hm?" Adhira looked up from her pile of fish and cheese. She swallowed.

"Oh, Bulwark can get at least three feet thick if I want it to. I only did a foot here though."

"It'll hold up against the rain?"

"It'll hold up against a warhammer wielded by a Surface Talent." She stuffed a chunk of bread in her mouth.

"An uninfused one, at least." Harker nodded. That was frankly stronger than he'd hoped for—one feet thick wasn't much but he'd seen it upend monsters far stronger than him. Reinforced by her refined Water, Harker would be lucky not to dislocate a shoulder bashing into it. If he needed to flee, he'd have to weaken the earthwall first.

"The rooms," he waggled his fingers in what he hoped was a casual gesture.

"They look…rough."

"They are. Someone collapsed part of the mountain on them. A Talented's work, no doubt." Harker eyed the ceiling. It was a smooth plane of stone, but he suddenly didn't trust it.

"When you say collapsed…?"

"It's safe. Sejal checked it for faults and found none worth fixing."

"How'd she do that? Is her Talent sat within elemental earth as well?"

"Wait. Fixing. How would—Ah. You'd use Bulwark to shore up the gaps." Harker leaned in, his mind working at the problem.

"Can you control how much of the wall emerges?"

"I can. What do you think I spent my time at the Hold doing?"

"Learning about the Spires." Adhira scratched her chin.

"Well, yeah. A lot of that, to be honest. The rest was Talent development. We might be only Surface level, but there's a great deal we can accomplish before ducking our heads below the Sea." Harker drummed his fingers on the table, food forgotten.

"What happens after the Talent fades?"

"What?"

"Unless you're more of a monster than I know, even your Talents will fade eventually. If you planned on binding the faults of the mountain with Bulwark, then you must have figured out how to keep it stable enough to remain after you leave." Adhira considered him carefully.

"You know precious little about the world and then you go and do…that."

"Do what?"

"You've a keen insight, Harker." He shrugged, forcing himself to eat a piece of fish. It was far too salty.

"I pay attention. You're familiar with the habit." Adhira flushed, and Harker wanted to squeeze his eyes shut. Why would you bring it up? She was on the verge of never mentioning refinement again! Yet Harker knew that was a lie. Adhira wasn't going to forget that he was hiding things, and he wasn't going to stop worrying about it until they'd talked it out. Harker supposed the clarity from the broken Charterstone had lingered longer than he'd thought.

"Instability is the way of the Sea." She spoke slowly, as if sorting through her words carefully.

"If I start with something from Teyr, though, I can find a measure of stability." Harker had seen Talents like that. The Vinnell twins came to mind. Their Earthfist worked best in their tilled fields. Adhira chomped through another piece of cheese, speaking through her mouthful.

"Most of the time, Bulwark works by directly manifesting my refined Water into reinforced earth. When I'm lucky enough to be near a source of dirt or loose stone, I can take that as my material, effectively cutting down the activation cost by a large percentage." Harker leaned back.

"So you're much more dangerous in a forest."

"You should see me in a meadow." Adhira smirked.

"It's one of the benefits of an elemental focus."

"Mm." Harker poked a suspicious looking piece of dried apple.

"Not so much when you're away from the dirt." Adhira inclined her head, as if granting him the point.

"True. Such is the detriment of an elemental. That's why I'm happy to have Torpor."

"It's an esoteric?"

"Of a sort." The girl always seemed to brighten when she spoke of her own Talents, though Harker couldn't believe she was giving him this much information so freely.

"Torpor is a mixed focus, though there's more in the esoteric than elemental."

"It's…time? And water?"

"Right on the latter, but the former is sadly misaligned. It's break, not time." Break. It wasn't a focus Harker had ever heard of—but that meant little. He'd heard of relatively few beyond the standard elementals.

"Ah. That's a shame. Time would have been quite interesting." Adhira's eagerness slipped away, a piece at a time.

"So I've been told." Harker froze, though he continued to sip from his canteen. I've stepped into something new, it seems. She's sensitive about Torpor. Change the subject.

"Torpor slows your opponent. Break would be…" He searched his vocabulary.

"A cut perhaps? Or a pause. But not time related—""A time focus doesn't exist," she snapped. Harker leaned back.

"I'm relieved to hear that." Adhira, perhaps expecting an argument, bit down over whatever words she was about to say.

"Why?"

"Can you imagine a Talent centering around time itself? I can't. It's too messy to even consider."

"Would that everyone thought the same," she muttered. Interesting. Harker flicked the distressed apple slice away.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't! I was…merely concerned that I'd given you the wrong impression."

"It's easy to do," he said with a nod.

"I've done the same."

"If this is about your refinement, then I already said my peace on that. It doesn't change how I think of you."

"Yes." Harker cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. For some reason he felt very hot. The fire was chewing through its fuel far too fast.

"I wasn't sure how to…That is, I'm thankful. For your understanding."

"We all navigate the Sea in our own way. But, can I ask…why?" Harker had feared the question. It drew too close to far more dangerous truths. To keep the Vestige a secret, he would need to turn her attention elsewhere.

"I am unable to refine." The words clung to his throat as he spoke them, but they hung in the air, as understandable as anything else. Harker stared after them, then at Adhira, as if waiting for their meaning to penetrate. Her eyebrows lifted.

"Do you have a deficiency?" Ancestors grant me the ability to lie! Yet they were silent, as always, and Harker wasn't about to give up his Stature now. There was little choice now.

"I…I have no Current."