L.S. Easton
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Chapter 2:7 - Dinner
🕑 Added 2025-03-03 08:00:08 +0000 UTCKevin tugged at the hem of his shirt, suddenly feeling underdressed for the evening ahead.
It was still early for dinner after Amelia’s invitation, so they agreed to part for a couple of hours before meeting again. A night out might not have been part of his plans for the evening, but Kevin didn’t have it in him to refuse.
Not when Amelia was extending more trust by offering to explain some of her advantages. Nor could he ignore how interested he was in spending more time with her.
He would need to dedicate a little of Sunday morning to make up for lost time, but he could live with that. Even if it meant a little less cultivation, he deserved a break now and then.
He’d even made good use of the wait, getting more of his flag-crafting work done. Though looking at the place Amelia had suggested, he couldn’t help but wish he’d spent it clothes shopping.
Amelia’s directions led him to a street bustling with disciples. Despite being deep in the sect’s compound, the area was filled with a dizzying array of bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. It felt like he’d been transported to a major city, and Kevin had to double-check that the mountain’s peak was still visible in the sky.
His destination might not have been among the fanciest, but it was still the nicest place he’d visited in this new life. Even his best clothes looked plain compared to the other clientèle he could see through the building’s glass front wall.
It was too late to change anything, so Kevin shrugged off the sudden insecurity. He wasn’t here to show off, so did it really matter how he was dressed? The thought calmed his nerves, and he shifted out of the flow of people to lean against a wall.
After a few minutes, his attention was drawn to a slim figure slipping out of the crowd. Amelia’s face lit up as she spotted him and sashayed over.
She was dressed in another figure-hugging dress-robe hybrid; this one was a deep purple and covered in shifting patterns. It wasn’t until she was a few feet away that he realized they were mimicking the natural movements of her tattoos.
“Hey, you look amazing,” Kevin chuckled, scratching his neck. She’d clearly put a lot more effort into dressing up than he had, and his earlier nerves surged for a second time. He really should have gone shopping.
Amelia’s smile brightened further, though she did raise an eyebrow as she looked him up and down.
“I haven’t bought much since I arrived,” Kevin sighed, glancing away. “Sorry.”
Amelia smirked for a moment, then shrugged, looking unconcerned. Sliding forward, she held out her arm with an inviting smile.
Kevin paused, wondering if she wanted to clasp arms in the cultivator style. Then he noticed the angle she held and realized her intentions. After a further moment of hesitation, he hooked his arm in hers.
This was starting to feel more like a date than the friendly dinner he’d expected. Which, now that he thought about it, should have been pretty obvious. The signs had been there and hadn’t gone away because he’d mostly ignored them.
Romance hadn’t been part of his plans this early into his cultivation journey. He’d ignored the chance with Vanessa back in Ostale, and he’d had no intentions of looking for it in the sect.
However, standing there, looking down at Amelia’s smiling face, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the unexpected turn the night had taken.
Amelia tugged through their connected arms, leading Kevin toward the restaurant’s entrance. A man in silk robes met them at the door, and she pulled a page from her sleeve when he asked for their reservation.
While Kevin couldn’t see what she’d written from his angle, it seemed to satisfy him. With a wave, the man called an attractive young waitress over and whispered in her ear.
The woman, May, based on her name tag, nodded, then gestured them over with a wide smile. She defied his expectations, leading them through the open-plan dining area and deeper into the building.
A long corridor greeted them, filled with side doorways. The murmuring din from the main dining area disappeared, leaving a peaceful silence.
“Your booth is this way,” May said politely, gesturing along the corridor. “We have an automated menu system; you only need to order, and I will bring everything to you.”
Two-thirds of the way down the corridor, she opened a door on the right and then stepped back with a curtsey. Glancing inside, Kevin found a table surrounded by plush benches. Rich tapestries lined the walls, along with precious gems inlaid in patterns.
Those gave him pause as his training with Fischer kicked in. Gemstones inlaid on wood was an expensive but efficient method of creating permanent formation flags. Pausing, he narrowed his eyes, trying to pick out the details.
The designs were more advanced than anything he could make, but not so advanced that they were beyond his FORM-102 studies. Everything, from the patterns to the choice of stones, gave away clues, leading to a single conclusion.
They were for a sound-dampening formation; he was almost sure of it. That fit with the noise drop as they left the main room. If people were paying for a quiet dinner, it made sense to also block out the corridor.
May must have noticed his hesitation as she hurried to confirm his analysis. Nodding in thanks, Kevin led Amelia through the door, happy he’d remembered his training.
It was a good habit to get into; even if he was unlikely to be in danger, you never knew when Fischer might throw another surprise test at you.
May reminded them how the menus worked, wished them a good evening, and closed the door behind them. As the door clicked shut, glowing patterns lit up on the walls, cutting off all external noise.
Far from being distracting, the elaborate designs added to the room’s ambiance, providing much of the lighting in their booth. It was a side of formation design Kevin had never considered before, adding form to function.
However, as pretty as the designs were, they paled compared to the woman he was still standing with. Turning to Amelia, he raised an eyebrow as they took seats.
Amelia slid in beside him rather than sitting opposite, forcing Kevin to shuffle further in. While unexpected, having her so close was pleasant, if rather distracting.
Sometimes, I like to eat in silence after a long week," Amelia wrote, sliding a page across to answer his unspoken question. Others use this space to discuss things that are best kept private.
“Ah,” Kevin nodded, quickly seeing why she’d chosen this place. He was confident the formations worked both ways, ensuring nothing they said would leave the room. It was perfect for sharing something she didn’t want spread around.
Perhaps tonight was an even greater sign of trust than he’d thought.
“Well,” he said after the silence started dragging on. “Should we order? Or did you want to talk first?”
Best we order, Amelia hid a silent laugh behind her hand. For all of this restaurant’s merits, rapid service is not one of them. We will have plenty of time to talk before dinner arrives.
Kevin nodded and began looking over the menu. It was filled with dishes he didn’t recognize, none of which came with descriptions or prices. Eventually, he had to get Amelia’s help to order a steak and a bottle of wine to share.
She ordered another dish without explaining her choice, then steadied herself with a deep breath. Even then, she was near silent, her chest rising and falling with barely a rustle of air leaving her lips.
I guess it is time for us to talk now. You asked how I am able to learn so many different techniques and still maintain my ability despite limited practice.
“Yeah,” Kevin nodded, shuffling around to look straight at her. That was a little more involved than his actual question, but he wasn’t about to break the mood by bringing it up.
“I appreciate your willingness to share, but please don’t force yourself to. I admit to being curious and wanting to learn more about you, but we haven’t known each other that long.”
It is fine, Amelia shrugged, a blush staining her cheeks. The life of a cultivator is long and can be very lonely if you have no one to share your troubles or triumphs with. Father always said it was important to find a few people you could trust.
Even though it has been a short time, I feel you are one of those people.
Kevin blinked, touched, and a little surprised by her words. She wasn’t wrong about how cultivators lived; he still remembered how relieved Brad had been after talking about his interest in Xi’an.
That had been after knowing the man for even less time. Something about how he’d approached the subject had let Brad know he could be trusted, and he’d opened up. With how competitive cultivators were, finding someone to trust must be difficult.
Still, he must have made quite the impact on her; he’d have to ensure he kept that trust.
To answer your question, much of it comes from my mother’s heritage. Amelia wrote the words, appearing slower than usual, as if uncertain. From her bloodline, I have inherited what the clan calls the Living Tome Constitution.
My skin is a cover, showing a hint of what is inside. Amelia lifted a delicate finger, pointing to the tattoos shifting rapidly across her face. My blood is ink, she tapped the words on her page.
And my mind is made of pages, recording information in perpetuity.
Kevin paused, eyebrows rising at her revelation. It made a lot of sense. He’d always suspected there was something more going on with her than simple muteness; he just hadn’t expected it to be quite so involved.
Constitutions were not something he’d studied much since he lacked one himself. Still, he knew a few basics. While they could be developed, most came from cultivator bloodlines. It was one reason certain clans were so powerful; they were simply born with innate advantages.
Amelia flashed a hesitant glance his way, and he realized he’d been silent for too long. Looking back at the tattoos — or were those birthmarks? — on her face, he responded with a soft smile.
“Thank you for telling me; that explains a lot. So you’re really using your blood when you write? What about your talismans?” He’d always thought her ink was blood-like with how it bled from her fingers, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise to hear it was actual blood.
Do you mean is it a problem when I throw them? Amelia wrote, relief flooding across her face. When he nodded, she smirked, her amusement evident. You take notes with a pen, do you not? How long does it take that little pen to run out of ink?
“Ah,” Kevin said, seeing where she was going. “A long time, at least a hundred pages.”
Indeed, and I have far more blood than that. Even throwing dozens of talismans depletes so little that I don’t notice. I appreciate the concern, however. Amelia shuffled closer as she finished writing, leaning in until their shoulders touched.
Kevin cleared his throat, losing his train of thought for a moment. She smelled nice this close, and her delicate body was soft against his. “So you’re mind being made of ‘pages’ is how you remember so much? Like photographic memory?”
Yes, though it is likely not quite how you are imagining. Amelia nodded, tilting her head to the side. Take this evening, for example. If you asked me to picture it in a few days or weeks, I would be no better at summoning up images of what took place than a usual person.
The information, however, is there to stay. A decade from now, I could repeat every word that we said. I would also be able to tell you everything I have discerned about the room, its materials, and the management and staff here at the restaurant.
“So it would be like reading a description of what happened?” Kevin asked, beginning to see what she was saying. “And that works for anything you learn, as well?”
Indeed. Everything I have ever read and learned through experience is stored in my mind. Sometimes, locating it can be difficult, but it is always there.
Even years later, I can pick up where I left off with a technique and expect to see little degradation in my abilities.
“Impressive,” Kevin grinned, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. He was sure there had to be some limitations to what she described, but it was still an incredible ability.
He would have loved to continue querying her but didn’t want to seem like he was fishing for weakness or exact details. “Though I’m sure it wouldn’t be nearly as effective without an intelligent mind behind it,” he complimented instead.
His words brought a fresh blush to Amelia’s face but also a bright smile. Further, it defused the seriousness of the conversation as he’d intended. The rest of the evening was spent in quiet conversation, interrupted only by a delicious meal.
After that, the night wound down. On the way out, Amelia grabbed the bill before he could even see it, insisting on paying since she had suggested dinner. Kevin gave in after a token resistance, instead suggesting he pay the next time.
The subtle suggestion of a second date seemed to go down well, and Amelia gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek as they parted ways. It was a quiet end to a first date, but it was perfect for Kevin.
They were busy people who could only spare a little time each week, so a slow romance was just what he wanted. They were both going to live long lives, and with the uncertainty around her moving to the inner sect, he could wait to see how this went.
However, he had to admit he looked forward to seeing her for their cultivation session the next day.
Comments
V L
🥹🥹🥹
Raymond Mouton
Thanks for the chapter.
