Empire of Night

Chapter Twenty-Four

From the Vein

“The water won’t be particularly warm,” Ayduin said, “but it’ll have to do.”

Setting her bundle of clean clothing upon a nearby stone, Inerys crouched beside the stream and removed a glove to dip her hand into the lazy current. In truth, it was warmer than she’d expected. Cool, to be sure, but not entirely unpleasant. She had endured far worse out in the deepwoods.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve bathed in cold water,” she said.

If anything, it might be refreshing.

“For your sake, I hope you’re prepared to stand it long enough to get the stink out. Post-advancement cleanup is a nasty business.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Inerys said with a frown, “You wouldn’t happen to have any soap, would you?”

To her surprise, the woman produced a fresh bar from her pocket and held it aloft. It smelled of citrus and lavender, though not as strongly as she had expected. Perhaps she really had gone noseblind. Hopefully, it wasn’t permanent.

“Here,” she said, tossing it to her in an underhanded swing, “I have plenty more, so don’t be afraid to use it.”

“I won’t,” she assured, though hesitated to undress.

She’d never bathed with anyone present before. The notion alone reddened her cheeks, though she supposed her prudishness was unwarranted. Ayduin was a woman, after all. Surely, there was nothing Inerys possessed that the woman had never seen before. Right?

“Something wrong?” She asked, cutting her wayward thoughts of Adai physiology short.

“Me? Oh, no. I just–”

Am too polite to ask you to leave?

Ayduin slowly raised an eyebrow.

Cheeks aflame, Inerys said, “I’m not used to an audience, that’s all.”

The woman gave her a flat look before rolling her eyes and pointedly rounding one of the larger stones to sit with her back to her.

“Better?”

“Y-yes, thank you,” she said, a tad awkwardly.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve seen just about everything. I doubt you could surprise me, even if you sported extra dangly-bits.”

Half a dozen questions rose in regard to that statement.

In an effort to distract herself, she asked, “Are advancements always so unpleasant?”

“Physical advancements? Always. I’m sure Rhydian has yet to warn you, but your fourth will be worse.”

Inerys grimaced as she shimmied out of her trousers and peeled her poor blouse away from her tacky skin.

“How so?”

Ayduin turned, picking at her nails and likely debating how far she was willing to humor her line of questioning. She was surprised the woman was speaking to her at all, considering their relationship. If one could even call it that. She was fairly certain the secondrider only tolerated her because of Rhydian.

“Your body restructures itself at the end of the foundation phase. Bone density increases, muscles enter an advanced form of myofibrillar hypertrophy and more often than not, any physical modifications manifest themselves.”

Inerys was truly beginning to mourn her lack of education on the subject.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea what any of that means,” she said.

Ayduin huffed. “In short? You become stronger and more durable. Faster too.”

“Ah,” she said, cheeks burning, “and the physical modifications?”

She deliberately blinked the clear membrane in her eyes. “You don’t have much control over what changes, honestly. In our case, we all developed nictitating membranes like our wyverns. Comes with the bond. I’m not sure what will happen in your case, though.”

“I’ve had my fair share of changes already,” she muttered and slipped into the water before her body could balk at the temperature.

The world became black and cold as she submerged herself. However, the darkness was short-lived. The luminescent fractals along her arms lit skin and water alike in shades of pale blue. She frowned when she resurfaced, but found her glow-in-the-dark toes were rather useful. Between them, the clarity of the water and the relatively shallow depths, she could see each and every nearby stone. She’d even spied a tiny crustacean before the little bastard had the chance to pinch her.

She’d had half a mind to pluck it from the water for a closer examination, but ultimately decided against it. There was no telling how long Ayduin’s generous mood would last and she wasn’t keen on pressing her luck. Her time was best spent scrubbing the salt and filth from her skin, not playing with the wildlife.

As she at last lathered her hair, she caught the woman staring. Not at her bare body, thankfully, but rather, her arms. The intensity behind her rosy, gold-rimmed eyes verged on something she couldn’t quite place. Wariness, perhaps? Guilt? Inerys wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. Nor was she certain the woman was aware of the fact she’d been nervously toying with her necklace for the better part of ten minutes. When the woman realized she’d been caught, she abruptly tugged at it, the silver chain wrapped around her fingers drawing tight enough to whiten her otherwise dusky skin.

“Do they hurt?” She asked, gesturing toward Inerys’ arms with her free hand as if nothing were amiss, despite the slight waiver to her voice.

The question hadn’t come as a complete surprise. While the woman had never openly gawked at her fracturing the way some of the others had, Inerys had caught the occasional glance when the woman thought she wasn’t looking. Not that she could blame her. The luminescent quality of the complex webbing was so overt, she would have thought it strange, had the woman continued to avoid questioning.

“The webbing? No. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said.

“Not anymore?”

Rinsing the sweet-smelling soap from her hands, she debated how best to describe the sensation.

“It’s hard to explain, but before Sorisanna set those shackles, they burned. Not like a brand exactly, but my skin felt like I was seated too close to an open flame. Close enough to sting, but not enough to scald, if that makes sense? These days, they only tingle. My arms feel like they’re on the verge of falling asleep from the elbow down.”

The other woman wrinkled her nose. “Is it constant?”

“More or less.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

“I assumed it would resolve over the course of my stabilization,” she said, “With everything else I have going on, it didn’t seem worth mentioning. The feeling isn’t particularly pleasant, but it's already an improvement compared to what I was experiencing before.”

“Fair enough,” Ayduin sighed, rubbing at her brow, “The new cycling technique Vesryn has in mind for you should help with that, but if it doesn’t, you need to speak up.”

“I will,” she assured, but had to ask, “What is it he has planned, exactly?”

The man was even less fond of her than Ayduin was, which was impressive in its own right. Then again, the woman was at least trying. Or, seemed to be. She’d humored her this far, hadn’t she?

“Given you know next to nothing about any of this, the answer requires a bit of an explanation,” she warned, “you sure you don’t want to wait until he gives you the full lesson?”

Internally, she debated. In the end, though, she decided now was the best time to extend her olive branch. Subtly, of course.

“If I have the option, I’d rather have you explain it to me,” she said, “Please.”

Ayduin studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment before she sighed through her nose and reluctantly nodded.

“Fine,” she said, pulling her fingers free of her necklace to point at her pelvis with both hands, “Your physical core governs three separate meridians all by its lonesome; your circulatory, gastric and musculoskeletal. The technique you’ve been using focuses on your circulatory meridian. Aside from it being the easiest to learn, it’s also the most important. Breathwork is everything, regardless of your Ascension, so keeping your heart and lungs well supplied with oxygen and vital essence is in your best interest. It does wonders for the mind too, but that’s a lesson all on its own.”

“This new technique will focus on your musculoskeletal. From what I understand, the channels branching from that meridian suffered the most damage when the fracturing occurred. Hence the glowies in your extremities,” she said, wiggling her fingers for emphasis, “Reprioritizing the flow of your vital essence will give the rest of your body more to feed on. Which, in theory, should alleviate the pain and weakness you’ve been experiencing.”

Inerys filed away the information as she dipped her head back to shed the excess soap from her hair.

“You don’t sound entirely confident,” she noted.

“Your lack of preparation work is the main issue. Under normal circumstances, you would have learned all three base cycling techniques for the physical core prior to your first advancement and therefore, have trained your core to manage and absorb vital essence as efficiently as possible. By your third Ascension, those techniques shouldn’t require conscious thought. The lack of muscle memory will put you at a disadvantage for a while, especially when we start your physical conditioning. It's nothing that cannot be fixed, but it will take quite a bit of work and essence. Basing ourselves in the Wilds will help with the latter, but be prepared to eat. A lot.”

Her stomach audibly growled at the mention of food.

“I don’t think that will be an issue. At least, for a little while. My body seems to think its in a constant state of starvation these days.”

“To be fair, it’s not entirely untrue,” she said, “hunting game of sufficient rank should curb the feeling, though. You’re craving the vital essence more than anything else.”

She sighed, pressing a hand to the hollow of her stomach and glancing off toward her fresh linens.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Ayduin rose from her seat in order to fetch Inerys’ towel for her.

“How are your . . . other cravings?” She asked, almost hesitantly.

Inerys blinked and mechanically reached to take the offered cloth. In truth, she was more caught off guard by the gesture, than the actual question.

“Other cravings? Oh, you mean the, erm, blood,” she said, clearing her throat, “mild, if anything. I’m not tempted to take a bite, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The woman suddenly stiffened.

Inerys winced, “Sorry. Poor choice of words on my part.”

“If you want to keep that pretty little head of yours, I’d advise against any nibbles.”

“I wasn’t planning on any,” she promised, the words all but stumbling out of her mouth as her cheeks warmed.

Ayduin crossed her arms. “Good. Now, hurry up and get dressed. You’re not the only one anxious for a meal.”

~*~

Rhydian had never been fond of needles. The mere sight of them was enough to make his skin crawl, so he hadn't been particularly thrilled when Sorisanna had all but ordered him to carry one with him to the Spirit Wilds. Still, he could not argue her reasoning. If he was keen on bleeding himself to keep Inerys’ cravings in check long enough for them to find a sufficient replacement, it was better to do so with the proper tool, than a blade.

His wrist, while healed, was still tender.

He studied the prepared needle amid the glow of the firelight, his lips pressed thin as he rallied his nerves. For all his self reflection, he could not pinpoint what it was about them that bothered him so. Logically, he knew they were next to harmless and yet he simply couldn’t bring himself to stick the damn thing in his arm. He tried. Skies knew he tried, but nothing. He always stopped an inch shy of contact.

What was wrong with him?

Across their modest campfire, he caught a brief glance from Cydan. The man only offered his usual, easy smile, his auburn hair only a shade or two shy of the flames dancing before him.

“Can I bother you to give me a hand, ser?” He asked, beginning to rise.

For a brief moment, Rhydian’s brow drew. What could he possibly need a hand with? The realization dawned on him, however, and a portion of his ego threatened to collapse in on itself.

He deftly slid the needle and the short, attached tube into his sleeve.

“Of course,” he said, moving to stand as well.

To his relief, Vesryn, who had been sifting through his medicinal supplies nearby, failed to take notice of the exchange.

“Did Tanuzet give me away?” He asked quietly as he and Cydan crouched in front of the saddle bags with their backs to the sage some distance away.

His forthrider held out his hand, “She didn’t need to, ser.”

Behind him, he felt his wyvern’s accusatory glare.

“Thank you,” he sighed, passing him the needle, “I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. It’s not like I’ve never had blood drawn before.”

“No,” he agreed, “but I’ve noticed you tend to distract yourself when you do. There’s no shame in it. Do you have the mug?”

Rhydian drew it from his pocket and set it on his knee.

“I suppose I do,” he said, pulling up his sleeve and focusing on the sky while Cydan found the vein.

Counting the stars helped distract him from the slight pinch he felt along the inside of his elbow, from the steady, yet gentle ebb of his own blood being leached away. The thought of being used as a living blood bag was more than a little disturbing, if he were honest. But, he had volunteered himself for the position. Keeping Inerys’ cravings in check and away from any conflicts they may raise, was well worth the trouble, in his mind. He’d seen the way she eyed the others on occasion. She likely wasn’t even aware of those stolen glances.

They haunted him regardless, for the hunger he sometimes caught in her eyes was as old as it was deep. In her moments of clarity, she seemed to keep it on a tight leash and for that, he was grateful. He had no plan to test how far that restraint extended, however. Which made moments like these all the more necessary.

“Come morning, would you take the first hunt?” He asked.

“Sure,” Cydan said. “Are we still looking for fourth Ascension or higher?”

Rhydian nodded. “We need something with enough vital saturation to keep her core busy.”

“I’ll make certain I don’t come back empty handed,” he said, removing the needle and clapping him on the shoulder, “I appreciate the help, ser. I should be able to handle it from here.”

The sage only spared them a cursory glance.

Making his way back to the fire, Rhydian set the mug beside the plate of meat and bread he’d prepared earlier. He hoped Inerys would not question the temperature and if she did, perhaps assume it was the fire’s doing, rather than realize how fresh it was from the vein. With that nose of hers, perhaps it was wishful thinking. She was bound to put two and two together eventually.

They’re coming, Tanuzet hummed, without so much as raising her head.

Not a heartbeat later, the women emerged from the treeline, with Inerys still fluffing out her damp hair with a bare hand. The sight of those glowing fissures had a way of turning his stomach. He forced the feeling down as they approached.

“You’re looking refreshed,” he said, “How do you feel?”

Her full smile sent a shiver up his spine. Sky’s mercy, he would never get used to those infernal fangs. She smiled so infrequently, it was easy to forget they were there. Had she the desire, she could rip out his throat without a second thought. He swallowed his discomfort and did his best to return the gesture.

“Better, due in no small part to Ayduin’s soap,” she said.

Surprised, he looked to his secondrider, who offered no more than a shrug in explanation. At least the two had found some common ground while they were away. The development was unexpected, but he could hardly complain.

“She carries more soaps and toiletries than she knows what to do with,” he said with a genuine grin, “Blankets too.”

Ayduin cast him a withering glare. “I do not.”

“If I remember correctly, the last time you opened your annex, three cases of Ahneshali soap spilled out all over the wyvernlair floor.”

She raised her chin. “Some of us like to smell nice.”

“Three cases doesn’t sound that excessive,” Inerys said.

“Would you like me to tell her how many cases you have in total?” Rhydian teased.

Ayduin grumbled. “No.”

“How many?” Inerys wondered.

“Twelve,” he said, taking a seat and crossing his arms as he leaned against the boulder at his back, “and mind you, each case holds about six dozen of those soaps.”

“Six dozen?”

Ayduin threw her hands up. “I like variety. If I can’t enjoy the right scent for the occasion, then what’s the point? Some of us get tired of smelling like wyvern and leather all day.”

Rhydian only laughed, earning a small chuckle from Inerys as well.

“Needless to say, she has just about any grooming supply, perfume or other feminine provision you might need. If you ask nicely.”

“See if I’ll ever share with you again,” the woman muttered.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, then tilted her head when she noticed the offerings he’d set out beside the campfire, “are those for me?”

“Eat as much of it as you can. You’ll need all the extra essence we can spare.”

“I’ll do my best.”

With a pleased hum, she took a seat upon the grass near the fire, though he noted how she’d angled away from the flames. Apparently, her sensitivity to light extended to that of the fires. He would have to keep that in mind in the future, if they ever progressed to the point where demonstrating his rysk became necessary.

Unsurprisingly, she sampled the blood first.

Rhydian chose to focus on his own plate while she drank, his thoughts straying toward thoughts of their upcoming lessons and conditioning.

They had settled into a comfortable silence, when Inerys eventually asked, “What is an annex, exactly?”

“It’s a pocket dimension,” he said, though his answer was clearly too vague, so he clarified, “They’re essentially stabilized voids in reality. The sizes vary, but their utility is practically the same. They’re portable storage rooms that don’t take up any physical space.”

“I see,” the young woman trailed. “How do you access them, then?”

“More often than not, by activating a sigil,” he said, “mine is tattooed on the back of my neck. If I direct my mental essence to it and imbue it with my Intent, it opens the space.”

To demonstrate, he activated his primary annex. It seemed harmless enough to show her what it was like from the outside. He had no intention of giving her a tour, considering the current . . . occupants.

Inerys’ eyes went wide.

“How is that even possible?”

He chuckled, “Unfortunately, I’m not sure of the details myself. I only use them.”

“So you just step inside?”

“Like you would in any other room,” he said, closing the annex once more.

It vanished without a trace, save for the slight distortion it left behind for a few moments. It wasn’t visible, but if one reached out with their Awareness, they’d likely sense the slight fold in reality. It would dissipate with time, of course.

“That’s incredible,” she breathed.

“If you think his is impressive, you should see some of the mansions the Elders carry around with them,” Cydan said, finding his seat between them.

“I’m still trying to comprehend them at all,” she said, blinking, “all you need is a tattoo?”

“The process is a bit more complicated than that, but most choose to use a special tattoo as a ground for the summoning mechanism. You could always use something else as a key. A necklace, an embroidery on your cloak–”

“A key,” Cydan offered.

Rhydian sighed at his cheeky antics. “Yes. If you want to be original. Regardless, they’re rather versatile. Some of the Talhavar Elders have access to annexes the size of small cities. They usually use them as training facilities, climate controlled farms or camps. The sky is the limit, really. If you can afford it. We mainly use ours for storage. And you’ll find mine has more available space than Ayduin’s.”