(II) Conversations

27 (II)Conversations

“They’re already bloody done with you?” Adam asked, looking Shiv up and down with a curious expression. “You were in there for barely an hour.”

“Probably less,” Shiv replied.

There were even more people coming in through the doors—lots of casualties, lots of injuries. Shiv got a glimpse of the aftermath of what happened at Passage when they transported him to Cradle. Harkness’s final act resulted in substantial casualties and severe damage to the surrounding infrastructure. A mana bomb of such potency, that much power, couldn’t just be released into the city casually. And to make matters worse, there was no report that the Master assassin had been caught yet. Shiv thought darkly to himself.

It was partially his fault she’d managed to break through and transcend a Tier, but in his defense, that was something no one could have anticipated—not even Harkness herself.

As Shiv prepared to ask the Young Lord if he was ready to return home, he noticed something around the man’s neck. There, dangling from a slim silvery chain, was a red vial—a red vial that Shiv felt to be biological material.

Shiv pointed at it. “What is that?”

“Oh, this?” Adam smirked. “This is a Potion of Disease Immunity—in a pendant. The Abyssal elf who gave it to me said that I saved her sister in the tunnels.”

Adam seemed rather proud of himself.

“And you said you weren’t getting rewarded for this Quest,” Shiv joked.

“I wasn’t! I’m not the one who got a cape and whatever else you managed to obtain.” Adam’s smile faded, replaced by a scowl. “You… you disgust me, you know that?”

“What?” Shiv said, feeling his own smile grow as Adam’s offense built.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re a walking pile of bullshit—that’s what you are. You get killed by a Master-Tier opponent a few times, you die horribly, and rather than staying dead like the rest of us do, you come back stronger with… with what?”

“Momentum Core,” Shiv replied, speaking as innocently as he could.

“” Adam practically screamed. “Momentum Core—do you have any idea how many people develop Momentum Core?”

Shiv sneered. “No. Didn’t go to an academy. Is it good?”

“You bastard, you bastard-gutter-rat-child!” Adam spat.

Shiv threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, yeah, it did feel pretty good to hit her after the core filled up. The discharge—” He clenched his fist. “—I can still feel it. All that power… Time seemed to stop around me. It was just me, Harkness, and the blow I was about to land. Then the calamity that followed, the devastation.” He winced. “Yeah, Momentum Core seemed to break me more than it broke her sometimes…”

“Because you’re using a Master-Tier Reflexes Skill with, what, two Adept Skills for Physicality and Toughness. Of course you’re breaking yourself.” Adam shook his head. “Momentum Core is something that geniuses and true talents on the Path of the Rider or the Path of the Vanguard can achieve. And even they usually do it in armor so thick that they can survive re-entry.”

“Yeah, using it did feel a bit better when I was in my armor,” Shiv muttered.

“Yes—your armor, made from your own bones. That’s… that’s something else: What is wrong with you?” Adam repeated once more.

“Come on, Adam,” Shiv said. “Let’s go back. You can yell at me inside our apartment.”

“Our apartment— apartment,” Adam grumbled, glaring at the back of Shiv’s head. “Your apartment, because I didn’t get anything. I had to be taken out of this place by you after I woke up surrounded by…” He caught sight of a Weaveress, who gave a loud, disgusted snort and turned away. “! What is wrong with the world? How did my life come to this?”

As they walked onto the bridge, Shiv stared at a demon-summoning crystal in the distance, the prism flashing bright as more and more injured came in.

Shiv grimaced. Diverting the mana bomb’s blast was Harkness’s moment of glory, but plenty of other people paid for it.

“So,” the Young Lord said with a sigh, “care for a race?”

“A race?” Shiv asked. “What do you mean, a race?”

“I mean, you have Momentum Core now. Why do we need to take…” Adam gestured vaguely at the demons.

“The demons?” Shiv said casually.

“Don’t call them that. It bothers me.”

“That’s what they are,” Shiv answered. “But… I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t think I can use the core out here.”

“What do you mean, you don’t think it’s possible? You have Momentum Core. Why won’t you use it?” Adam pressed.

“You just want to see how fast I am,” Shiv replied, prodding at Adam for his deliberate attempt to see just how good Shiv’s new skill was.

The Young Lord folded his arms. “No, I’m just… How does it work, exactly? Does it absorb all momentum near you? Do you have to be close? Do you—”

Shiv shook his head. “Adam, I’m sorry. I’m not using it in public. Every time I use it, it’s like a bomb’s going off around me. Hell, if the Pyromancers hadn’t been there in the tunnels, I think I would have fried more than a few of the Umbrals. And you.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “My armor would have protected me.”

“Would it protect your open face?”

The Young Lord’s scowl deepened. “I hate you. I despise you so much, Omenborn.”

“Yeah, I heard that before,” Shiv said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s… it’s really my curse, you know? The skill—it’s just too powerful, too strong. My muscles, too.” Shiv flexed his arms as hard as he could. Part of his medical shirt tore. Adam glared harder. “Everything about me is growing too fast. This world…it’s becoming like glass. I feel bad for everyone who isn’t me.”

Adam bumped Shiv with his shoulder and started marching forward, muttering curses under his breath. Shiv laughed again as he followed.

“Hey, Adam! Adam, wait! Adam, you’re gonna need to carry me if you want to fly.”

“I am not carrying you. Find your own way back on one of those… .”

“Well, I guess we’re not having fondue tonight.”

“...I will carry you. Do not ever mention this to anyone again. I’m also going to get to throw you—that’s part of the arrangement.”

“Sure, fine,” Shiv said. He didn’t mind being thrown. “It’s actually kind of fun. Actually, can we stop by the bookstore first?”

As they sailed through the air, Umbrals, Weaveresses, and countless other peoples pointed at them. To Shiv’s surprise, some cheered, waving and calling out to Honored Guests turned genuine heroes. Even Adam’s scowl softened for a moment.

Shiv noticed. “Oh, you’re enjoying the moment, aren’t you, Young Lord? You’re finally turning your reputation around.”

Adam’s scowl returned. “You disgust me. You me. I hate you.”

“Say that to me after dinner,” Shiv shot back.

“Oh, I will,” Adam said. “You just… you wait. I will say it as many times as I—”

***

“I love you. I revere you. I worship you. Please—may I have another plate?” Adam said mournfully, glaring daggers at Shiv all the while.

The Deathless grinned at him and nodded. “Oh, okay—you spoke loud enough. I was having a ringing in my ears earlier, so I couldn’t hear you.”

“I despise you,” Adam muttered under his breath.

After returning to the bookstore—scaring the same librarian working there again, claiming the books, and hearing Adam whine all the way back to the apartment—Shiv settled in briefly. Only to go right back out in hunt of cooking ingredients. He had a dinner date later tonight, and he didn’t intent to disappoint.

He made a girl a promise, after all.

The dish was clear to him: lobster Thermidor paired with asparagus, ending with fruit-dip fondue. The lobster was surprisingly easy to find and rather tender in quality. He managed to source a creamy sauce made from egg yolk, a Weave wine brand known as Deep Marrow, truffles, and some fine-smelling cheese. He also spent some of his Shards on a magical micro-oven and several other appliances needed for the process.

After a few hours of preparation—with Adam complaining the entire time—Shiv finished with the lobster and moved on to the fondue. That was easier: high-quality chocolate (a mixture of dark and milk), some sea salt, heavy cream, and a drip of brandy. Afterward, he cut up strawberries, bananas, pineapples, and cherries to offer a sweet end to the night.

After a hard day of stopping a terrorist attack, suffering deaths, brutal combat, and a bit of learning near the end, Shiv finally got to relax—pairing his high excitement with deep focus and genuine pleasure.

“It makes no sense,” Adam said, ripping another chunk of meat from his personal lobster—Shiv accounted for the Young Lord’s own needs, after all. Its shell was a brilliant, smooth perfection—almost golden in its radiance—and it was fortified by truffles.

“How high is your Cooking?” Adam asked.

“Twenty-Three.”

“But how is it only that high?” Adam frowned. “It makes no sense. I’ve eaten from better chefs. They should be—”

“They didn’t have Georges to show them what they were doing wrong,” Shiv answered.

It was true: many chefs had higher potential in terms of their Cooking Skill, but that was just a number. His Cooking Skill was, in a sense, like his Biomancy—it made them faster, more efficient, more powerful within the kitchen, but it didn’t make them more meticulous. It didn’t make them notice mistakes as often—at least not the Initiate version of the skill. And that’s why Georges wanted him—because he was always reliable, in spite of his Cooking Skill and not because.

For the third time that day, Shiv looked at the door and scanned his surroundings with his Biomancy field. He couldn’t feel anyone except the neighbors next door. This was a bit invasive: with his magical skill growing, he could peer into other people’s lives.

Shiv thought, He couldn’t imagine staying here long, knowing everyone’s business.

“Worried that a certain someone might not show?” Adam asked.

Shiv stared back at the Young Lord before he shrugged. “I hope she does. She said she will. She hasn’t given me any reason to doubt her, but…”

“But she almost died, straining herself to the very limit to keep us all alive. And you’d understand if she’s currently lying in bed, trying to sleep off the worst headache known to man?” Adam finished.

“You’re pretty astute when you don’t talk much. Especially about yourself.” Shiv smiled.

Adam scowled. It was becoming a routine between them. “And you are always a bastard, Shiv.”

“Thanks for using the right name again this time,” Shiv said. “Now, as a reward…” He reached into his cloak and pulled out the other two prizes he got from the Quest. “Something to cheer you up after a day of complaining.”

The Young Lord scowled harder. “I did not complain that—oh, that cape seems useful.”

The Cloak of Midnight’s Kindred was surprisingly easy to use. It gave him a faint sense of spatial magic around him—just enough to secure any specific item stored within its minor dimensional pocket. Paired with the cloak’s Shadowsense enchantment, most spots of darkness weren’t so dark anymore.

Despite offering no true offensive power, Shiv found himself enjoying the cloak more and more.

He placed the Mask of False Paths on the table next to Adam’s plate, then held up the rapier—the blade that Lady Harkness had used to kill him so many times—as a means to bribe the Young Lord’s pride. Shiv didn’t have a chance to examine the items either, so he was looking forward to this.

Adam stared briefly at the mask before he did a double take at the sword. His eyes shot wide.

“Shiv—that’s not a Master-Tier weapon. That’s a one!”

Equipment Obtained:

Tier: Heroic

Condition: Perfect

Composition: Stellarite

Enchantments > User-Duplication; Pyromancy 50; Self-Sharpening; Self-Mending; Self-Shaping; Speed Amplification; Temporal Warding; Spatial Warding

“Well, that’s going to be useful,” Shiv replied, stunned by how many enchantments were infused in this blade. This thing was likely absurdly expensive.

“I’m no sword genius, but I know how to use a blade,” Adam muttered. “Imagine six of me firing my bows, attacking from all angles…Or six of me calling you a bastard at once.”

“Only six?” Shiv replied, deadpan.

Adam’s features cracked into a reluctant smile. “You are a bastard, Shiv.”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“You’re welcome,” Adam said. “Now, what about the mask?” He eyed the Mask of False Path and frowned. “Huh.”

Equipment Obtained:

Tier: Heroic

Condition: Damaged

Composition: Bronze

Enchantments > Perfect Semblance; Adept-Skill Thief (0/1); Initiate-Skill Thief (0/2); Heroic Mind-Shield

“I don’t think I’ve seen any of those enchantments before,” Adam muttered. “Other than Skill Thief. That one's impressive enough on its own.”

“Semblance might be taking on someone else’s appearance, I guess,” Shiv said. “Mind-Shield’s what I’m looking at.”

“Lady Harkness?” Adam said, guessing the reason for Shiv's interest in mind protection.

“Yeah,” Shiv said. “You want the mask? Or the sword?”

“Hm. We should test them out in a practical situation before deciding.”

“Wise. I’ll put them back in the cloak for now.”

“How attached are you to the cloak?” Adam asked, eyeing the swirling mass of darkness around Shiv.

“It’s equipped. It’s not coming off.”

The Young Lord wrinkled his nose. “Fine. I’ll find a better dimensional storage anyway.”

“Sure you will. It just won’t look as good.”

Adam sneered.

Adam flicked a piece of lobster shell at Shiv. The Deathless caught it. “No littering.”

a voice called out. Valor had been silent for a while, ever since they departed Cradle.

“I know,” Adam said. “I nearly died more times in the past day than I have my entire life.”

Valor replied.

Valor continued,

Adam grit his teeth. Shiv sported a vicious grin. “Next time—next time I’ll kill her for good.”

“Next time?” Adam said. “I hope I never see that woman again for the rest of my life. It was horrible. I fired like ten thousand arrows at her—didn’t do anything. Bullshit…”

“Yeah, that’s because you didn’t have Momentum Core,” Shiv pointed out.

Adam flung another piece of shell. Shiv caught it, draining the momentum out of it. “Don’t litter,” Shiv said, more forcefully this time.

“Don’t mock me,” Adam shot back, heat in his voice. Shiv decided to back off. The Young Lord seemed genuinely incensed by the memory of his inability.

“Fine. You might not want to meet her, but I will. She… she achieved that Legendary Skill Evolution because of me, and I’m going to test just how Legendary it is next time I see her.”

“Or she’ll flatten you, fold your arms, and break your mind for good,” Adam murmured.

“Does she scare you, Adam?” Shiv couldn’t resist the taunt.

“Yes,” Adam said honestly, without a hint of shame. “She terrifies me, because she is a Psychomancer sadist who tried to pull us apart with her mind. She terrifies me because we couldn’t harm her, not a small army of Umbrals and spider-folk paired with you and me. She terrifies me because I watched her kill you brutally over and over again. Do you know what that was like, Shiv? Watching you come apart time and time again, watching her advance on us afterward? How aren’t you bothered? You’re the one she killed the most.”

Shiv shrugged. “Comes with the territory—was learning her ways.”

“Yes, and she was learning how to butcher you better each time. I don’t know…” Adam swallowed. “I don’t know how you do it.” It took a lot for Young Lord to admit that. “I don’t know how you die over and over without feeling something.”

“Well, I get skills out of it. It doesn’t matter,” Shiv said.

“It doesn’t matter? You’re dying! You’re dying horribly! You’re being tortured to death! The Umbrals… They told me what you did to save Uva and the others… Does that not bother you at all? Are you just ?”

“Not insane.” Shiv shook his head. “I think I see things clearly. I just take things as they come.”

“This is not taking things as they come,” Adam said. “This is not feeling what you’re supposed to feel when damage is inflicted.” The Young Lord stared at Shiv, and the Deathless saw something on his face that wasn’t there before: Terror. “I don’t… You know, I don’t like fighting. I like firing my bow. I like sparring and training with people. I like protecting people. I like living up to being a Pathbearer, advancing my skills—but I don’t enjoy killing people, and I certainly don’t enjoy getting tortured.”

A silence followed.

“I’m not like you,” Adam admitted. “I see you die time and time again—these ugly, painful deaths. I see her rip into your mind. You just keep going after her, like you don’t care, like you even enjoy it, like none of this bothers you.”

“It doesn’t,” Shiv replied. “I mean, the mind-slaving thing is disgusting, and I’ll kill her for that alone. But, you know, the fight’s the fight. It’s good excitement—maybe a little too much excitement today. That’s why I’m cooking right now.

“People don’t just cook and then de-stress after bloodshed and violence and end up fine.”

“Why not?” Shiv asked. Himself, almost.

“I just… what? You know what? It’s not my problem. It’s your problem. You’re the weird one. You’re the freak.”

Adam folded his arms. Shiv studied the Young Lord. He wanted to mock him, but maybe Adam was right in some way—maybe there was something else, too.

“Do you think it’s the ritual that did this?” Shiv ventured.

Adam’s face grew expressionless. “I thought about that, and I don’t know,” Adam said, a slither of anger creeping in. “It’s possible. Maybe you’re just born messed up that way—who knows, considering who your parents are and what they did? But all I know is that you are not like them, even though you’re born because of them—because of what they did to me, to my family, to my entire town. And now, despite all that, you’ve turned out to be… Well, you’re still a bastard, but you seem to care about people and try to do the right thing. Yet you’re so much for what your parents did—all the bloodshed they unleashed. All they took from father and me…”

Shiv nodded in understanding. “All I can do,” he said, “is play my hand. Life gave me a set—gave you a set, too. And before, I would have been envious of your set. I would have loved to be Adam Arrow.”

“But right now…the shoe’s on the other foot. Is that what you’re getting at?” Adam sneered.

“No,” Shiv replied firmly. “Right now, I don’t care. I just want to be me, finally. I can’t live in the past. I can’t ask you to surrender the past. I’m going to fight for what I have now—and ultimately for the people on Blackedge I care about. But I’m no slave to what happened. And I won’t bow to what someone else did. Even if that’s why I’m the way I am. I’ll just use it to do better.”

Adam stared at him. “You genuinely mean that? That you wish to protect Blackedge?”

“I do,” Shiv said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Adam shook his head. “I still… I try not to hate you, but it’s hard. I don’t think I would blame you if you just wanted to stay. You seem to like it here.”

“I like adventuring,” Shiv said. “I like going places. I like doing things, and—a bit—like you. I like helping people. I just don’t like being in a cage. That doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon Georges and the others.”

“Blackedge was your cage,” Adam said.

“No,” Shiv countered. “Roland Arrow was my cage.”

Adam flinched at Shiv’s words.

“But you aren’t,” Shiv added softly. “I don’t think I fully like you yet, Young Lord, but you’re growing on me… like a fungal infection.”

Adam flipped a piece of lobster shell at Shiv; it crashed into his arm and fell onto the floor. “You missed that one,” he said.

“I’ll let you have it.” Shiv grinned. Then he breathed in deeply. “I’m sorry about your mother. And sister. If I could go back and make things different, I would. If I could have made your pain better I would. But you’re a good man—and I’m glad you learned about spatial magic at the academy because I have no idea how you resolved things at the end.”

For a few moments, they stared at each other in silence. Shiv didn’t know if Adam liked him, but something had shifted between them. Then the Young Lord tilted his head and smirked.

“Ah, Shiv.” Adam smiled. “You should, uh, go get the door.”

“Why? What are you—?”

And then Shiv felt her. She entered the periphery of his mana field—his Biomancy sensing the architecture of her body, mapping the contours of her curves.

Shiv blinked. “How did you—?”

“Awareness,” Adam smirked. “Very, very high Awareness. Go get the door, oh esteemed chef. Don’t keep your lady waiting.