The conflict ended with the dimming dusk. Ewan limped out of the game arcade as the reddish-orange sky purpled—the color of an old bruise. His leaden eyelids weighed down, and grime and dried blood marks smeared his face. No law enforcers were in sight, only death was, but his nose had long gone numb to the stench of their blood and gore.
The exploded craters smoked and smelled of rotten eggs, and mutilated charred bodies hilled on the streets. The burnt crisp tree cracked and fell over with a gust of wind, its embers and ashes swirled in the air. The redness of blood paled and faded on the fake snow, barely deigning to reflect the setting sun. The once famous Frosthelm festival was now a blood festival. Only the shredded decoratives remained as a remembrance of the jolly laughs and the cackles of the children.
A young man in a tattered shirt hanging by his shoulders trudged out of the crumbling building on the side, hacking his lungs out. Several of its floors were up in raging flames, it was on the verge of collapse; the deathly creaks of its pillars announced its end. A hare with patches of brown and dark red fur, or was it dried blood, hopped before him, both facing Ewan. He gripped a cleaver, his knuckles turning white, while the hare snarled at Ewan, its ruby eyes reflecting his weary image.
“I’m not an enemy,” Ewan said in a low volume, taking slow breaths through his mouth, his eyes drooping. His aching muscles killed him, his throat was on fire, and his wounds, both bullet and blade bitten, stung. The strenuous and protracted fight had left him sapped, there were just too many of them on the ground floor.
“Proof,” the man said in a hoarse voice, smothering his cough, stepping away from the blazing building.
Ewan sighed and brought Orange out from the rune. The little monkey clawed his way onto his head and snuggled in his hair, whimpering as he rubbed the bleeding bullet wound on his thigh.
Don’t touch it, you’ll make it worse.
Orange cried once and stopped.
The man released a long breath and collapsed on the ground, the hare hopping back and licking his face.
“Have you checked the trams?” Ewan asked.
“No.” The man shook his head, hacking again, retching blobs of blood.
Ewan picked up a piece of cracked wood and crutched his worn-out body to the tracks, minding the splinters. There was no tram there. But if he followed the tracks and got out of this area, he could find one. The end of conflict meant the attackers died. And since there was no intervention from the law enforcers, it must’ve been the Severynths in the area who ended it. Ewan didn’t want to get involved in the mess that would follow soon. So, he chose the direction of his home and trekked along the tracks, leaving the chaos behind.
“Let’s attend the festival, what could possibly go wrong. Motherfuckers! Bitches ruined my birthday,” he muttered amidst the clank of his crutch on the paved pathway. “Couldn’t even eat the fucking cake!” Iris strived to heal his wounds, wrapping her roots around the tiny red Anima Crystal.
This attack put him on yellow alert. There was a threshold in the stages of Ashevas before which they were still vulnerable against Kyrons and their weapons. He now wanted to cross that threshold as soon as possible and have some security inside the walls. Even if the situation of the colony destabilized further, he would have the option to leave the place safely.
…..
The first night of his return brought Nana rushing to his doorsteps again, freaking out over the news of the massacre and his injuries. She had Luna heal him over and over again even when he said he didn’t need it, the repeated usage sapped the poor bird, and she only left when he pushed her out. After so many years, even when life shattered her, she still retained those stubborn cells…
And the fourth dawn delivered Ewan the property deeds and the inheritance Sols; he became rich overnight. But the Kyron currency concerned him no more.
The bright and glossy basement walls mirrored the world inside. Still cold but not frosty, the temperature rose by the day. Greenbirth—the months of life would follow soon. Segregated from the outside world by the mystical door his father had created, he was safe here. From training to breaking through barriers to brewing potions, this place was his retreat.
Frost trained in a corner with snowflakes swirling around him, his arms stretched out to the sides, his eyes closed, his tail bending and swaying. While Orange played tag with Toast, dashing all over the basement, yet sneaked a glare at the little imp from time to time, the orange fire on his forehead flickering.
Ewan had a long list of work he planned to do in the coming days, most of which involved potion brewing. Before he could start with any though, the pestering monkey made him choose his Anima Potion. His intention to battle it out with Frost brimmed and spilled. To save his hair and cheeks, Ewan agreed and procured the needed ingredients—Astylind Core of the relevant element and the blood of the same.
The fire based Aennon solution dissolved the core, and the addition of blood made it boil. The beaker heated up and the orange liquid inside steamed with popping bubbles. This was his fifth trial, and success finally knocked on his door. Even though this potion had the same ingredients as the one he brewed for his ‘Elementalist Physique’, it still took him several attempts to increase his proficiency. The nuance in the use of his spirit and the difference of catalysts and stabilizers made it so.
“Hot! Hot!”
His face crunched in pain. Ewan juggled the searing potion vial between his hands, blowing on it to cool it down, sweat dripping down his nose. Did he make a mistake using a Level-3 Core and blood? It could be too much… He licked the salty sweat on his lips and wondered whether Orange could absorb so much Fire-Anima at once.
To be on the safe side, though, it was better to have Orange consume the potion in two parts. The little monkey jumped and complained when Ewan disturbed his tag game but rushed over with Toast in tow after he told him about the Anima Potion.
Spoiler| Status: Healthy | |
| Step-0 [2nd Awakening] | |
| Name: Ewan Ayres | Species: Human |
| Vitality: 1.3 | Spirit: 4.3 |
| Anima: [Fire – 4.3 | Ice – 4.3 | Blood – 4.3] | |
| Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0] | |
| Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening] Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D] Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-D]
| |
| Equipment: Common Clothes. | |
| Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients. | |
| Novas: 59 | Sol: 5025 |
Aleth08
Please rate, comment, and leave a review if you are liking the story and haven't done so already. It will really help me out if you can take some time out for this [shamelessly hoping for a 5 star].
Also, if you would like to read ahead, I have a patreon account, a total of 40 chs for early access right now [increment has ended for now].
Note: Members are charged on the day they join, and then monthly on that same date. For example, if you join on the 10th, you'll be charged on that day, and then monthly on the 10th.
And if u would like to join, this is my discord server The Magicians.
Thanks for reading my story as always. Appreciate it.
The conflict ended with the dimming dusk. Ewan limped out of the game arcade as the reddish-orange sky purpled—the color of an old bruise. His leaden eyelids weighed down, and grime and dried blood marks smeared his face. No law enforcers were in sight, only death was, but his nose had long gone numb to the stench of their blood and gore.
The exploded craters smoked and smelled of rotten eggs, and mutilated charred bodies hilled on the streets. The burnt crisp tree cracked and fell over with a gust of wind, its embers and ashes swirled in the air. The redness of blood paled and faded on the fake snow, barely deigning to reflect the setting sun. The once famous Frosthelm festival was now a blood festival. Only the shredded decoratives remained as a remembrance of the jolly laughs and the cackles of the children.
A young man in a tattered shirt hanging by his shoulders trudged out of the crumbling building on the side, hacking his lungs out. Several of its floors were up in raging flames, it was on the verge of collapse; the deathly creaks of its pillars announced its end. A hare with patches of brown and dark red fur, or was it dried blood, hopped before him, both facing Ewan. He gripped a cleaver, his knuckles turning white, while the hare snarled at Ewan, its ruby eyes reflecting his weary image.
“I’m not an enemy,” Ewan said in a low volume, taking slow breaths through his mouth, his eyes drooping. His aching muscles killed him, his throat was on fire, and his wounds, both bullet and blade bitten, stung. The strenuous and protracted fight had left him sapped, there were just too many of them on the ground floor.
“Proof,” the man said in a hoarse voice, smothering his cough, stepping away from the blazing building.
Ewan sighed and brought Orange out from the rune. The little monkey clawed his way onto his head and snuggled in his hair, whimpering as he rubbed the bleeding bullet wound on his thigh.
Don’t touch it, you’ll make it worse.
Orange cried once and stopped.
The man released a long breath and collapsed on the ground, the hare hopping back and licking his face.
“Have you checked the trams?” Ewan asked.
“No.” The man shook his head, hacking again, retching blobs of blood.
Ewan picked up a piece of cracked wood and crutched his worn-out body to the tracks, minding the splinters. There was no tram there. But if he followed the tracks and got out of this area, he could find one. The end of conflict meant the attackers died. And since there was no intervention from the law enforcers, it must’ve been the Severynths in the area who ended it. Ewan didn’t want to get involved in the mess that would follow soon. So, he chose the direction of his home and trekked along the tracks, leaving the chaos behind.
“Let’s attend the festival, what could possibly go wrong. Motherfuckers! Bitches ruined my birthday,” he muttered amidst the clank of his crutch on the paved pathway. “Couldn’t even eat the fucking cake!” Iris strived to heal his wounds, wrapping her roots around the tiny red Anima Crystal.
This attack put him on yellow alert. There was a threshold in the stages of Ashevas before which they were still vulnerable against Kyrons and their weapons. He now wanted to cross that threshold as soon as possible and have some security inside the walls. Even if the situation of the colony destabilized further, he would have the option to leave the place safely.
…..
The first night of his return brought Nana rushing to his doorsteps again, freaking out over the news of the massacre and his injuries. She had Luna heal him over and over again even when he said he didn’t need it, the repeated usage sapped the poor bird, and she only left when he pushed her out. After so many years, even when life shattered her, she still retained those stubborn cells…
And the fourth dawn delivered Ewan the property deeds and the inheritance Sols; he became rich overnight. But the Kyron currency concerned him no more.
The bright and glossy basement walls mirrored the world inside. Still cold but not frosty, the temperature rose by the day. Greenbirth—the months of life would follow soon. Segregated from the outside world by the mystical door his father had created, he was safe here. From training to breaking through barriers to brewing potions, this place was his retreat.
Frost trained in a corner with snowflakes swirling around him, his arms stretched out to the sides, his eyes closed, his tail bending and swaying. While Orange played tag with Toast, dashing all over the basement, yet sneaked a glare at the little imp from time to time, the orange fire on his forehead flickering.
Ewan had a long list of work he planned to do in the coming days, most of which involved potion brewing. Before he could start with any though, the pestering monkey made him choose his Anima Potion. His intention to battle it out with Frost brimmed and spilled. To save his hair and cheeks, Ewan agreed and procured the needed ingredients—Astylind Core of the relevant element and the blood of the same.
The fire based Aennon solution dissolved the core, and the addition of blood made it boil. The beaker heated up and the orange liquid inside steamed with popping bubbles. This was his fifth trial, and success finally knocked on his door. Even though this potion had the same ingredients as the one he brewed for his ‘Elementalist Physique’, it still took him several attempts to increase his proficiency. The nuance in the use of his spirit and the difference of catalysts and stabilizers made it so.
“Hot! Hot!”
His face crunched in pain. Ewan juggled the searing potion vial between his hands, blowing on it to cool it down, sweat dripping down his nose. Did he make a mistake using a Level-3 Core and blood? It could be too much… He licked the salty sweat on his lips and wondered whether Orange could absorb so much Fire-Anima at once.
To be on the safe side, though, it was better to have Orange consume the potion in two parts. The little monkey jumped and complained when Ewan disturbed his tag game but rushed over with Toast in tow after he told him about the Anima Potion.
Spoiler| Status: Healthy | |
| Step-0 [2nd Awakening] | |
| Name: Ewan Ayres | Species: Human |
| Vitality: 1.3 | Spirit: 4.3 |
| Anima: [Fire – 4.3 | Ice – 4.3 | Blood – 4.3] | |
| Astylinds: 4 [Potential: 0] | |
| Rolling Cat [Toast]: Step-0 [2nd Awakening] Fire Monkey [Orange]: Step-0 [Level-1] [Grade-D] Imp [Frost]: Step-0 [Level-3] [Grade-D]
| |
| Equipment: Common Clothes. | |
| Storage: Journal; Elementalist—The Path of Anima [Subtype-Book]; Spellbook; Bloodlust [Spell]; Transmute [Spell]; Anima-Crystals; Obsidian Dagger; Hub-Connector; Ingredients. | |
| Novas: 59 | Sol: 5025 |
Aleth08
Please rate, comment, and leave a review if you are liking the story and haven't done so already. It will really help me out if you can take some time out for this [shamelessly hoping for a 5 star].
Also, if you would like to read ahead, I have a patreon account, a total of 40 chs for early access right now [increment has ended for now].
Note: Members are charged on the day they join, and then monthly on that same date. For example, if you join on the 10th, you'll be charged on that day, and then monthly on the 10th.
And if u would like to join, this is my discord server The Magicians.
Thanks for reading my story as always. Appreciate it.
