“To our reunion!” Grey said loudly, standing at the head of the stately, circular table in his personal dining room. He raised a glass of the really expensive-looking alcohol he had broken out and poured for everyone gathered in a salute. Azarus, Renauld, Liora, and I copied the man, reaching across the table to clink them together. Even Venix joined in with the toast, who normally refrained, considering the sometimes odd effect that alcohol had on Antium.
And with that, we drank for the occasion.
That being the welcoming dinner that Grey had decided to throw together for us impromptu, in the aftermath of the equally impromptu duel on the grounds of his Academy. After Honoka won the relatively low-powered contest of skill against her fellow apparent Professor, to a mix of cheers and groans from the student body, Grey had barely spared a moment to direct the cleanup. With a few rapid commands, particularly to the grumpy Kargath, the mess was cleared as Grey hurried my small group of friends and companions towards his personal manse within the Academy walls. With the sun setting by that point, I’d barely gotten much of a look at it before my mentor had shuffled us through the sturdy gates and wide double doors. Still, for all of his enthusiasm, Grey still helped lead me to a small room on the second floor where the visibly sleepy Aveline could conk out immediately, her tiny head dwarfed by the enormous feather pillow. Sena and Fade had elected to stay behind to watch her, both because I'm not not...sure either was interested in a two-legs celebration. But also, Fade seemed to want to talk to her about something, judging by his feelings over the Familiar bond. After that, though, it was time for said celebration.
We hadn’t even eaten yet, and the unexpectedly jovial older man had immediately broken the seal on something that looked enormously expensive.
I wasn’t complaining. Sometimes, there were unexpected benefits from being friends with an old, retired pirate.
Speaking of pirates…Grey had asked where Bella was, considering she had accompanied us upon leaving Elderwyck. He was a bit taken aback by how my expression immediately soured from how he unintentionally poked at a spot still sore, and didn’t ask any further questions when I curtly answered that she had ‘left’.
Ha.
If only.
With the initial toast completed, Grey sank down into the large, plush dinner chair beneath him with a sigh. Looking up at us with a smile that didn’t seem like it was going anywhere soon, he shook his famously bald head at us. “Well,” He let out a huff and a laugh. “It’s been some time, my friends. Some time indeed.”
I couldn’t help but notice that his gaze lingered on me with his words. I matched his smile with one of my own, just as happy to see the old man. “Oh?” I said teasingly, inclining my now-empty glass his way. “You noticed the time away, did you? You’d think with as old as you are, a scant few months would be beneath your notice.”
Grey laughed once more, shaking his head. “You would be wrong, Nathan. Time does not cease its ineffable march across the cosmos. Not even for the old. No, I have felt some absences quite keenly indeed. Particularly in light of…certain circumstances.”
I shook my head at the polite way Grey danced around the subject. The last time he had seen me, I’d been nearly on the edge of shattering into a million different pieces, after everything had built up and culminated at the end of the Construct War. “It’s alright, Grey,” I said softly. “I’m…feeling better now. I really am. A lot has happened in the last few months, and it’s helped me find some balance. Balance…and a sense of purpose.”
Grey met my eyes across the table and studied me. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “I can see that,” He said, matching my quiet tone. A softer, fonder smile crossed his lips then. “Does it perhaps have to do with the young Miss that accompanied you?”
“…lots to talk about,” I said, dodging the question. Not out of a desire to keep things from him. Just…some things needed to be discussed in a more private venue.
I mouthed the word ‘later’ to him. Unsurprisingly, Grey immediately picked up on the hint and moved to immediately change the subject.
He was interrupted before he could do so, though, by the sound of the adjoining door to the dining room opening. I had noticed it when we were first escorted in here and heard the familiar sounds of a busy kitchen within. If it was opening, then I assumed dinner was ready. I turned in my seat to see, only to have another surprise veritably dumped in my lap.
I recognized the woman who was carrying a massive tray laden with food into the room. After all…
She was one of my fellow escapees from the hell that had been Addersfield.
“Rachel?!” I nearly stuttered, halfway standing out of my chair in my surprise. Off to my right, I heard Azarus nearly choke on his mouthful of booze and join me in standing to receive the woman. “Rachel Fergusson?!”
My fellow former slave of Magnus’s, the counter keeper of the same butcher’s shop that Bleddyn had worked at, smiled at me widely over top of the almost excessively large tray of food. I couldn’t help but notice there were faint traces of tears in her brown eyes. “Nathan Hart…as I live and breathe…”
Rachel looked…good, honestly. Back in Addersfield and immediately after the escape from the deliberately overrun town, I’d always thought she was a very… homely-looking woman. But now that was absent from the short form of the former slave. If I hadn’t noticed something about her immediately, then I would have assumed it was the months and months of working for Grey that had helped to rejuvenate her. After all, I could attest to just stressful being a slave truly was. With that burden lifted, it was easy to imagine the weight of years lifting from her shoulders.
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However…I did notice something about her.
Namely, Ki. My Aetherial senses could sense Ki emanating from the core of Rachel’s soul.
I goggled at the woman as she set down a tray as she set down a tray larger than she was, which probably weighed more too. “You’re a Cultivator now?!”
If she had Ki, then that meant Rachel had undergone a Cultivator Ascension ritual. Which also meant a great deal of physical impurities had been excised from her body. The result of such a thing was that my fellow former slave was a fairly decent-looking woman.
Which…I was noticing in a purely aesthetic sense.
Seriously. I’d gone through enough relationship drama in the last year that I was fine with being a bachelor right now.
Rachel stood back up and shook her head at me, not bothering to hide the tears now streaming from her eyes. “Ya damned fool,” She said in a laughing, watery tone. She approached and grabbed me in a fierce hug, which I had absolutely no problem accepting. After a moment, she stepped back so she could look me in the face. “Nearly a damned year, and that’s the first thing ya say to me?”
I laughed with her, shrugging. “It’s…pretty noticeable,” I said as Azarus joined us. Instead of a hug, the two of them exchanged a firm handshake and a nod of acknowledgment. While Azarus had been instrumental in the escape from his mad cousin’s holdings, he hadn’t been a slave like we were. As a result, they hadn’t been close. Still, we’d all been there, so there was a sense of shared camaraderie.
Azarus took a moment to assess the woman with a critical eye, one Cultivator to another. After a moment, he grunted in understanding. “I get it,” He eventually said. “Fast-track, I’m guessin’?”
“Aye,” Rachel nodded at him, cocking one hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow. “Ya got a problem with that?”
Azarus shrugged. “Nope. If that’s what ya want, that’s what ya want. Ya knew what you were gettin’ into.”
I looked between the both of them curiously. “Anyone care to fill me in? What are you talking about, ‘fast-track’?”
I heard a polite cough from behind me. Turning, I saw that Grey had walked around the table to join us. Partly, I think, to pick at the dinner Rachel had brought us, and partly to join the conversation. “When people refer to the ‘fast-track, ’” He said, affecting a familiar lecturing tone and gesturing with a chicken leg. “They refer to the common practice of those below the first Breakpoint paying for a higher-level, more experienced Classer to quickly shepherd them up to that point. In cases such as this, the Classer will take their client out into the wilderness and subdue monsters to the point of near-death, and then allow the client to slay them with little to no effort involved. The result is a rapid, unstable growth up to the level one-hundred mark.”
I furrowed my brow, joining Grey in picking at the communal bird. I chewed on a mouthful of wing for a moment in thought, before voicing them. “I’ve never heard of that. Was that an option when I was still pretty weak? Why didn’t we do it?”
“Because it doesn’t create Classers, Nathan,” Liora said patiently, leaning against the table and cradling her glass. “Note the words ‘unstable growth’ the Headmaster used. The System takes note of such rapid, unearned growth. The result is a distinct lack of combat capable Skills and Talents given in that crucial first hundred levels. Think of all the abilities you gained in the lead-up to your Ascension ritual. This is often referred to as a ‘Foundation’, and is the basis of your battle capability. If you lack such things altogether…”
“Then you’re not going to advance much beyond level one hundred,” I said, nodding slowly before flicking my eyes over toward Rachel. “Huh. So, I’m guessing people-you,” I corrected. “Do this for the benefits of being a bit higher level?”
Rachel nodded and shrugged, entirely unbothered by the implied criticism of Liora’s explanation. “I’m not a fighter, Nate. I just wanted to live a bit longer, feel a bit better, and let’s call a spade a spade here,” She said, pointing a serving spoon my way. “I wanted to look better. So I asked Miss Sylvia if she would help me do the fast-track while you were gone, and she did. The kind woman didn’t even charge me for the service.”
Renauld whistled from his still sitting position at the table, nonetheless still leaning back in his chair. He hastily corrected his posture, though, when Grey shot him a narrow-eyed look from the way he was mistreating the chair. Renauld cleared his throat. “That’s pretty damn generous, I gotta say. Taking people down the fast track is one of the best ways for Classers to make good money.”
Interesting, but…something else had caught my attention.
I took a deep breath. “Speaking of…” I said slowly. “Is…Sylvia here?”
Grey stopped from where he was picking over the dinner tray. In fact, the conversation around the room quieted as well.
Everyone here knew both Sylvia and me. They all knew just how…tragically things had ended between the two of us. I still miss her sometimes. Not just the relationship we had, but the companionship. There had been a reason we had gotten together, after all.
We were…similar, in our own ways.
Grey cleared his throat. “Ah…no, not at present,” He said, sounding a bit uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but relax a bit. “Sylvia is currently out on assignment with the Order, leading her own squad. Between her duties as a commander and her lessons as Honoka’s apprentice, her presence at our home is…infrequent.”
I nodded, staring off into space so I didn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes. “I see. So, she isn’t attending the Academy as a student?”
That was…something we had talked about doing, after all. About how we wanted to attend the Academy together when the war was over.
Before…everything.
“No, but she’s talked about doing it,” An answer came, but not from the expected source. I turned a raised eyebrow on Rachel, who could apparently speak for Sylvia. The woman shrugged at me. “We’re friends now. Anyway, I know what you’re actually askin’, Nate. No, her memory ain’t completely back.”
I sucked in a breath, startled. “Completely?”
“She gets…flashes sometimes, Nathan,” Grey said sympathetically, approaching and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Whispers of memory, from the time she lost. Brief snippets of conversation, a flash of a battle. Even at times merely what she ate on a particular night. Nothing concrete, and very little on…certain matters. Still,” He hastily added. “It’s promising, to be sure. Sylvia is clearly recovering in some way. It might only be a matter of time.”
I nodded slowly to show my understanding before plastering a smile on my face. “That’s good. I’m…happy for her. As long as Sylvia is doing well, that’s all that matters. But enough about that,” I said, clapping my hands to dispel the brief downturn in the mood. “We’ve got a dinner to eat. Can’t just pick at it all day like barbarians, eh? Rachel, are you joining us?”
Rachel studied me for a moment before shaking her head with a smile. “Nah, I’ve got to go clean up. Besides, I’ve already eaten. The cook gets the choicest bits, don’t ya know? I’ll talk to ya later, Nate.”
As everyone started to settle back into their seats, I caught Grey’s eyes again and whispered to him. “Talk afterward?”
Grey nodded shallowly.
Good.
That was enough for me. There was…quite a bit we needed to hash through.
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