Orion's Herald
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Chapter 39: Don't you love a good reunion?
🕑 Added 2024-12-26 13:00:09 +0000 UTC“What’s your name, girl?” Wymon asked. The young woman, with her back facing him, rested one hand on her hip as she stared at the beast. It lay slumped on the cobblestone with various knife wounds, dry and cracked, running along its body. It wasn’t the cleanest job. But Wymon had done his best. “So,” he asked, sheathing the knifes into their scabbards on either side of his waist.
The girl glanced back at him, white flecks of light drifting from her eyes. Her irises began to go back to a natural blue colour. Wymon had heard stories, even caught a glimpse once, but to see another with battle intent, right before him, that was insane—he would have to report it as soon as he got back to base.
“Jodie. Why do you ask?” the girl—Jodie—said, looking Wymon up and down. He got the feeling she was trying to work out whether he was a threat or not. Not surprising. Slum rats didn’t have the best relationship with those in authority.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Meldish,” she said, turning to him with the sound of debris scrapping against her feet. “I haven’t done anything wrong. The beast attacked me first.”
Wymon let out a dry chuckle and held back a yawn. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to grab the water skin in his inside robe pocket. The sound of Ana’s foot steps were faint but she would be here soon. “I just wanted to know. You are quite special, you know.”
“Not really. I’m just an average slum rat, nothing special here.” She didn’t take her eye off him for a moment. Wymon could understand her suspicion, but it hurt his pride a little. Normally, he was the one judging people.
“Do you know what you just did, little one?” He said, taking a step forward. She took one back. “Ah,” Wymon rung his hands, rasing one to his mouth as he stifled another yawn. “I’m sorry, but you really are special. Have you heard of battle intent?”
The hair on Wymon’s neck pricked as Jodie ran her eyes up and down him before she replied. “No. I’ve never heard of it. Why is it important?”
Yes, you are a one in a million find, with the potential to fight those high above your realm. It’s more than a little important.
“You could say that,” Wymon said, looking off to the side. A piece of white fabric rolled past, carried by the wind. He frowned. It looked to be the sleeve of a guard. He could only hope the poor soul it used to be attached to was still alive. “Have you ever consider joining a mercenary group? If they found out what you posses, you could—”
“I’m fine. I have my dojo already.”
“Umm,” Wymon wet his lips, thinking about a different angle of attack when footsteps approached from behind. He glanced over and spotted Ana. Her bob bounced, throwing loose strands of blond hair all over the place as she ran down the cobblestone path. He turned back to Jodie. “Give it some thought, young one. The Phoenix company would love to have someone as capable as yourself.”
“I’m fine where I am. Thank you for the offer though…”
“Wymon. The name is Wymon,” He said, stepping to the side as Ana came to a stop, whip hanging loosely in her hands. Glancing up at him, her brown eyes analysing him the way they always did, she frowned. Wymon let out a sigh. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, sir.” She jerked her chin towards the dead void creature, “is it dead?”
“What does it look like to you?”
Ana turned to Jodie, and Wymon felt a headache building as the woman studied the girl with her eyes. “I don’t recognise you? Why are you, as a noble, dressed like that?”
“Ana…”
“I’m not a noble,” Jodie said, crossing her arms. “I’m just a standard Mana Cultivator.”
Ana’s mouth fell open as she looked from Jodie to Wymon, giving him a questioning gaze. He simply shrugged. The girl had battle intent, but there was no reason to talk about that now. After all, they still had a job to do—which was getting harder the longer they stayed her doing nothing.
“Alright, Ana. How is the man I asked you to take care of earlier?” He moved his attention down the path. Blood ran down the man’s face as he lay propped up against a broken wooden crate. He didn’t look too much better, as he held a hand over his chest.
“He should be fine for the most part. His wounds look a lot worse than they are,” she said, grabbing the other end of her whip. She began rolling it together and shook her head. “I don’t know how we are going to help most of these people. We need a healer. If only mortals could use recovery pills.”
“You should get to the others,” Wymon said. He took a last glance at the Void beast before turning away. “And Jodie please—”
“Jodie! There you are.”
Wymon turned in the direction of the voice and watched as a boy with long brown hair tied up and decorated with splinters of wood clambered over the broken stall. Dressed in a suit—strange for a slum rat—and smart shoes, the boy looked frazzled. Were the two of them friends? Another boy, dressed in the same manner as the first, struggled behind.
Who are these children?
The girl still focused on him, even as her friends drew close. Forcing a smile, he turned away and signaling for Ana to follow. She was guarded against them. It made sense. So it was probably best to leave them to catch up, but he would have to come collect them when he’d rescued the others. He had no plans of leaving children to fight for themselves, even if one of them had battle intent.
Hector, holding Mirae’s warm hand, glanced back at the large Void Ravager. The creature was still in the center of the festival and hadn’t moved—the Core Formation cultivators were doing their jobs.
He hurried Mirae along, throwing a glance to Lincoln—the boy’s head was still on a swivel, looking for any threat that might approach. But the Phoenix Comapnay and, in some respect, the guards had done well. They hadn’t run into any Void creatures as they moved away from the center.
But it couldn’t hurt to keep an eye out. A man poked his head out from one of the few stalls left standing in the festival. He glanced at Hector, and Hector waved. But the man, eyes thick with fear, jerked back inside as another roar from the Void Ravager—distant as it was—tore through the street.
Pulling Mirae along, Hector hurried his feet along. But paused as he spotted something. A short distance away, in between the wreckage of what seemed to be an incense stall, was the body of a creature. It wasn’t moving—something these creatures refused to do on their own. It was most likely dead.
“Do you want to go and take a look at that one as well?” Lincoln asked as he came to a stop next to Hector. His hand was still in his pocket. No doubt clutching the Stone Skin talisman. The one they’d activated earlier was still shielding them, but it had faded considerably—it was unclear how much more damage it could take.
“I just want a quick look, and besides.” Hector said, making his way towards it. “We haven’t seen any others in a while. So I think things are starting to calm down.” A faint roar from the center of the festival punctuated his sentence. Hector chuckled and continued onto the beast’s corpse—he’d said enough.
This should be my 8th uncommon fragment, just two more, and I should be able to make two seeds.
Hector let go of Mirae’s hand, crunching over wood and stone as he closed in on the body. “Be careful, Hector,” Mirae said, balling up her fists. He gave her a firm nodded, before picking his way closer. The creature’s wounds weren’t bad, at least as far as he could tell. A Core Formation cultivator had probably killed it in one hit as they made their way to the center.
System, extract the fragment.
Hector knelt down, placing a hand on the icy obsidian skin of the beast. An icy feeling of wrongness washed over his hand like he’d put it into some running water made mostly of slime. He’d gotten used to this, and knew the system’s reply before it even spoke.
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///: “Error. Fragments have decayed beyond the claimable state. Please find a more suitable target.”
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Thought so. I was too late unfortunately. Damn. I guess eight will have to do for now.
“Is everything alright Hector?” Mirae asked, stepping closer, splintering wood against her sandaled feet. “Is it alright if we go now?”
“Yeah, we can,” he said, placing a hand on his knee and pushing himself to his feet. “Everything alright, Lincoln?” The boy was looking off into the distance, seemingly focused on something.
“I think that’s Jodie. I might be mistaken. But… well. How many gingers do we know?” Lincoln said, rasing a hand and pointing.
Following his finger, Hector’s eyes widened, and he subconsciously took a step forward. He’d been hoping, praying even—not that the old religions existed in this world—that his friend were okay. He grabbed Mirae’s hand and signalled Lincoln to follow as they picked through the stall wreckage and around the beast, making their way towards her.
Two young boys in suits stood next to her. Delworth and Marcus were fine, too. He let out another sigh. That only ones left Emela and Nyx. Those two were in a higher realm than everyone in the group, so he had no doubt that they would be okay.
“Jodie!” Hector yelled, waving his arms. Mirae joined him, raising her little arms and hollering to them. Lincoln let out a chuckle as he trailed behind. “What, what’s up?” Hector asked, turning to him.
“Oh nothing, you two are just acting as if we hadn’t seen them in years. It’s been a few hours at most.”
“Well, I’ll try not to look so happy that my friends are still alive next time.” Hector said, shaking his head and turning away from him. He really did know how to say the stupidest things sometimes. Was he not happy to see they had all made it out alright?”
“That’s not… You know what, never mind. I just hope that we didn’t all just risk our lives for nothing. The farm would have been a lot safer option.”
What is your damn obsession with that farm?
Hector continued walking, not responding to Lincoln’s remarks. It wouldn’t help if he did—now was not the time to be having more arguments. People, some injured some not, milled about picking up rubble as they tried to help other. Some walked around lost, clearly in a state of shock.
“Do you think the entire festival was hit this badly?” Lincoln asked, turning his ear to a few conversations.
Hector rubbed a thumb over the back of Mirea’s hand. More to soothe himself than her. She gave him a reassuring smile. His heart warming as he let out a sigh. “I don’t know. But that thing is only in the center of the festival. So I would assume not.” Hector had considered using its name, but he didn’t exactly have a good reason for knowing what it was called. He could barely explain why he had to look at the Void hungers.
A few moments they came to a stop halt as Jodie, Marcus and Delworth walked over. “By the great lake I’m glad you guys are alright. Even you Lincoln.” Jodie said, waking forward and embracing Hector. The hug was tight, perhaps a little too much—how worried had she been?
“Thanks,” Lincoln said, with a scoff moving past them and walking over to Marcus. Giving the boy a light jab on the shoulder, Lincoln smiled. “Not gonna lie. I thought you would have wet yourself when the black beasts arrived. I’m glad to see I was wrong.” Lincoln let out a laugh, and Marcus chuckled. It was strained and forced—Lincolns jokes often landed like that.
“It’s good to see you,” Hector said, patting Jodie on the back. Her hug loosened, and she bent down to embrace Mirae. Hector turned to Marcus, bitting his lip as he considered what he was about to say. “You guys alright?”
“I’m fine. Not much happened,” Delworth said. “Jodie is strong.”
“Yeah, she really saved our butts earlier,” Marcus said, stepping over to Hector, rasing a hand and going for a handshake. “You should have seen her.”
Ever the businessman, Marcus. Ever the businessman. But wait. What did she do?
As Hector shook Marcus’ hand, he glanced down at Jodie before turning his attention back to Marcus. That could wait. One thing at a time—and this was more important. “Marcus, I have something to tell you.”
Comments
Casual Ham
"one in a million fined" should probably be "one in a million find" and "He’s should be" should be "He should be".
