Chapter 60 - Getting Even (Patreon)

“Wait, no, sorry. That was rude of me and I did not mean those words. I am not good with surprises and now I am-argh!”

The girl took a deep breath and pumped her fists at her side in an adorable effort to regain her composure.

“You fell on me out of nowhere and I was very surprised. I am sorry I hurt you and am glad it was not as serious as I thought.” Her large eyes narrowed dangerously as she took a step toward him with a raised finger.” But that does not mean it is acceptable for you to call me a beast right after meeting me! You are clearly not from Azzara and do not know me at all, so why would you say such a rude thing to my face?"

Her accent was thick; the start of each word cut short, while many syllables in the middle were drawn out before curling the final letters into a dancing cadence that was pleasing to the ears. Combined with the lack of abbreviations, it lent her an air of dignity and poise that didn’t quite match up with her animated expressions.

She pushed on, not giving him a chance to answer her question. "If you called Auntie Viyolla a beast, that might be understandable. But I am not one! I am nice, and not at all scary! If anyone tells you otherwise, you should ignore their lies." Jiran lost focus on what she was saying as he grappled with the fact that her words did not not match the motions of her lips.

This translator is awesome but highly distracting. Maybe it’ll help if I don’t look at her mouth when she talks.

When Jiran failed to respond, she continued. “You must know that being referred to as a beast is a most grave insult to m-the People. Many of my cousins would demand a trial from you, which you would surely lose. You must not call me a beast again, especially where others may hear. Do you understand?"

She lifted and then lowered her head in an exaggerated fashion and Jiran nodded along with her. Seeing his agreement, she took a moment to exhale the tension from her shoulders before wiping nonexistent sweat from her brow.

“I understand, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that where I’m from, we don’t have any bea-ahem, any Homo Musculus.”

“Hoiomo Muscleykless?” Jiran would have laughed at her attempt to pronounce the race Identify had labeled her as but thought better of it while rubbing the freshly healed holes in his chest.

“That’s what my people would call your people. I think. No, probably not. What should I call your people?”

“What an odd question. We are the People, what other thing is there to call us? What are your people called? Where are you from? Are there many more ungarnished there? How do you have an aura when you’re ungarnished? How did you get here? Did you fall from the sky in that blue meteor last night?!” The more questions she asked, the more animated her arms became and the closer she leaned toward him.

This feels familiar for some reason. And what’s with her complete lack of stranger danger? She must not realize how close I came to killing her. Sure, my manablade is invisible, but still.

“Maybe we should start over. My name is Jiran of Feylon. I’m from the Finlest Empire, and yes, I did technically fall from the blue meteor last night,” Jiran held his hand to his chest in the common imperial gesture of introduction.

“Jiran of Feylon,” She repeated his name slowly, tasting each syllable. “My name is Mayalyn Aloyhee. Third daughter of Peparalla Aloyhee, low-brother of Aahmra Marakha.” Her bright smile and polite curtsy looked completely out of place in the dense jungle.

So formal. Fathers, she’s adorable.

As if her introduction had triggered an important memory, her eyes widened.

“Oh no, this is bad-bad-bad. Stupid Maymay, stupid,” She rapped her knuckles on her head.

And it’s gone.

“Please, Jiran of Feylon. Do not tell my uncle where I found you. I will be in so much trouble if he knows I came to the Mettlerise,” She looked up at him with clasped hands and pleading eyes.

“Please, call me Jiran. You don’t have to worry. I won’t say anything to your uncle to get you in trouble. But I need a favor in return,” His mouth formed a hard line and the little mousegirl took a step back and swallowed nervously before nodding her head sharply. “Up there, on that cliff, is a pedestal on top of a stone platform with lines carved into it. Have you seen anything that looks like that anywhere else on the island?” Jiran pointed toward the cliff in the distance.

“Ancestors guide me, you went up there?!" Her brows furrowed as she paced before him, her fingers on her chin. "Never mind what I said before. Uncle is going to wring your neck. His fury will be long spent before he remembers I came here. That place is for those who have dedicated their life to the hunt. For an outsider to go there will send all of Azurelight into an uproar. I planned to ask if you wished to meet Uncle, but now I doubt that is a good idea. He may be loath to strike an ungarnished, but after you climbed the Mettlerise, he may very well kill you.”

She stopped suddenly, spinning to face him. “Before he kills you, I have many more questions for one who came from beyond the islands.”

“What’s an ungarnished?” Jiran forestalled her before she could launch into another round of questions.

“You are, are you not?” Her thoughtful concern shifted to confusion.

“I have no idea what that means. It sounds like, uhm, something without jewels?” Jiran guessed.

Mayalyn looked at the sky while bouncing her head back and forth with pursed lips. “How to explain… Those without markings of their ancestry!” She shouted in a moment of eureka.

Her own loud voice startled her and she scanned the sky through the thick jungle canopy with wide-eyed concern. A moment later, she dropped into a crouch and pressed her back against a tree. A wave of energy raced over her skin and wherever it touched changed color to blend into the bark like an iguana. Seeing her seamlessly meld into the environment right before his eyes, the colors and cut of her outfit made much more sense.

Those birds did attack me right after I spoke. They must have better hearing than eyesight. Whatever she’s doing, it’s making it hard for my aura to see her too. Such a cool technique, I wonder how it works.

Coating. Light Manipulation.

While he pondered her obfuscation ability, Jiran took her cue and completely vanished, clothes and all. Mayalyn released a surprised hiss when she lost sight of him. “H-how are you doing that?!”

Her fear from a moment ago vanished as curiosity overrode survival instincts. She circled around him, only her clothes fully visible. She poked him with her finger, fascinated by the shimmering it created in his layer of light-bending mana. Unable to see her clearly, he focused on his aura’s senses which only perceived her as an absence of dust in the space she occupied. The more he focused, the closer he got to seeing through the camouflage. Curious, Jiran pushed subtly with his manabody, flooding it with the intent to see her clearly.

Jiran’s spine stiffened in shock when he succeeded. Apparently, his manabody had been protecting him subconsciously by stopping right before reaching the skin of the people around him, which was likely why it refused to reveal her. When he made the conscious effort to see deeper, that protection vanished and he got a complete view of her smooth skin, every centimeter of it. Her focus crumbled, the technique masking her from sight falling away. She looked at him with a devastated expression rife with betrayal.

“Y-y-you saw. You looked at me! You shouldn’t even have an aura and you just used it to violate me?” Her butt plopped onto the jungle floor, her skin turning white as she stared far into the distance.

“I am so sorry, that was an honest mistake, I swear! I only received the acclamation to access my manabody a few days ago. I had no idea that would happen!” Jiran’s hands waved back and forth between them.

“Can I even become bonded now?” Mayalyn crooned as tears began forming in her eyes.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. Of course you can still get, err, bonded! Look, if it will make you feel better you can see me naked too. Then we’ll be even, right?” Mayalyn’s nose scrunched and she physically recoiled from his suggestion.

SERIOUSLY BRAIN!! Did you really just go there?

Suddenly, a Cardinal Drifter blasted through the canopy on a direct course toward the fully-visible, prone mousegirl. Without time to think, Jiran threw his body into the air with his aura, barely intercepting the beast and sending them both crashing into the ground.

He felt a sharp pain, followed by hollow numbness as something snapped in his lower back. The air was blown from his lungs as a taloned kick slammed into his chest from the beast’s wild thrashing. A distant, rational part of his brain registered that several of his vertebrae were broken. His legs had gone limp and unresponsive. The instinctive, lizard part of his brain demanded that they move, but they steadfastly refused to answer his call.

His mana, however, was eager to obey. Jiran’s fury erupted as the beast fumbled atop him, desperate to sink talon and beak into flesh. Primal rage wrapped them both in a chokehold of aura. Gases exploded from his skin even as Coating covered him. The spark that ignited their funeral pyre was a simple thing. The explosion that reached into the skies was not.

Jiran opened a hole in the top of his aura so the heat would escape up and not explode out, hurting the innocent girl. He could only hope she was okay, as his aura was wrapped tightly around him and the beast. His coating snapped, deadly fire washing over him for an instant before he created another, much sturdier layer of abrasive Coating. When the gases were spent several seconds later, he collapsed to the ground, his skin charred and cracked.

EXP: + 1

For a brief moment, pain was his entire universe. A single, overwhelming thought of being free from that pain mixed with his desire to make it so. "Restoration," He croaked the word, and a second later, cooling tingles rushed through his brain, numbing the agony. With his thoughts clear enough to think, his mind and mana raced to examine and heal the worst of his injuries.

It’s going to take at least ten percent to fix each limb. Thirty for my torso with the broken spine and hole from its talon. I’m going to need more mana. At least there’s a fresh meal right here. Mobility first, then eat, then heal the rest.

Mayalyn crawled out of some bushes a short distance away and scampered over to observe his smoking, crisped skin. Tears flowed freely down her face as she shook her head. "Why would you do that? How did you do that? None of this makes any sense. You came out of nowhere, and before I got a chance to ask anything important, you died like a stupid idiot. Why didn't you knock me out of the way?"

Who would hit a girl hard enough to send her flying while she's having a mental breakdown? That's not a thing.

"I'm not dead!" Jiran tried to snap at her but only a puff of smoke escaped his mouth.

"Ancestors! You’re alive?! Hang on, I'll bring help, Jiran of Feylon. I swear it," She stood to leave but he gently wrapped her in his aura, the delay in running for help only served to further her panic. Her eyes dilated into slits and her breathing became rapid and shallow.

Restoration continued to run through him, rapidly repairing his gouged chest and broken bones. He sent a trickle of the energy into his throat so he could speak. "I’m going to be fine, I just need food," he whispered, hoping her big ears weren't just for show.

"You need help! Not food! Now release me so I can go get Uncle."

Not going to let you run off just so I have to track you down later.

"Food," he repeated while staring fixedly at the beast corpse next to him.

Her face churned through expressions as an emotional war raged inside of her. Jiran stayed busy during the few seconds it took her to decide to help him rather than flee. "Okay, I will do as you ask." He released her and she lunged at the crispy carcass, tearing off pieces with her sharp claws. She bent over him, pushing morsels into his mouth one after another as he swallowed greedily.

The higher tier food diffused into density rapidly upon entering his stomach and he wasted no time claiming each bit of the ephemeral energy. His back snapped loudly as the rebuilt bones repositioned themselves and Mayalyn recoiled from the loud pop but relaxed a moment later after realizing how quickly he was recovering.

She made another trip, ripping out an entire leg, and for a second, Jiran was afraid she was going to try and shove the whole thing down his throat. She sat next to him in the dirt, shredding off pieces of tasty meat and idly shoving them into his mouth while she lost herself in thought. Jiran also swam through his thoughts as fresh, healthy skin was regenerated beneath the caked layer of blackened crust that was his old epidermis.

That was way too close. I thought I was done blowing myself up with my own magic. A fifth of what I used would have killed that stupid bird, there’s no reason to be slinging around that kind of firepower. Guess I really panicked after it broke my spine but that’s no excuse for nearly killing myself. I have to prevent that from happening again, but how?

Instead of getting up, or stopping Mayalyn from feeding him, Jiran dug deeper into his psyche, desperate to come up with a permanent solution to his old problem.

I need to change the way I practice my dumbed-down mental images. Instead of just picturing what I want the technique to do, I need to also imagine myself in near-death situations so my brain associates the two. I could also imagine entire scenarios and how I would respond to them so my muscle memory is already geared correctly. Damnit, I really need to start treating practice more seriously since a single knee-jerk reaction back to full power is basically a death sentence.

I don’t think my magic being too powerful is my actual curse, but right now, it certainly feels that way.

Jiran took a deep breath of fresh jungle air to clear his thoughts and bring himself back to the present. The shimmering emerald colors of abundant jungle flora brought a smile to his face and washed away the annoyance from his foolish mistake.

Damn, it feels good to be alive.

Restoration: + 5

Strength: + .3

Agility: + 1

Endurance: + .4

Durability: + 1.4

Wisdom: + .7

Intelligence: + .6

At some point during his ruminations, Mayalyn had moved away to lean against a nearby tree. When she saw his eyes open, she shook her head softly. "You are not normal, Jiran of Feylon. What kind of ungarnished are you?"

"I still don't know what that word means," he smiled softly as he relaxed on his back, looking at the sky turning purple from the addition of First Mother's light.

Her nails elongated into claws that she pointed to her ears and tail as if that should make it obvious. When he blinked at her repeatedly, she sighed. "These are the marks of my ancestors. Those without them are ungarnished. The ungarnished have no core, and therefore no skills, or aura. So how did you kill that beast and heal yourself? How do you have an aura? There is very little about you that makes sense to me."

"Where I’m from, none of us have any marks other than looking similar to our parents. We all have skills and techniques too. Though none of us have a core. I’m not sure about the ungarnished you’re talking about. I might look like one, but clearly, I'm different," Jiran shrugged as if the answer should have been obvious. "Is that why you've been so calm around a total stranger? Because you thought I was some harmless ungarnished?" He wondered aloud.

"Mhm," She mumbled, nodding her head.

"Well, now that you know I’m not, I hope you haven't decided to run off and gather your people to hunt me down."

"What?! No. Of course not. That would be cowardly, and besides, your fate is Uncle’s to decide. Also, I still have many questions for you. How did you come to be on Azzara? How much of Madra have you seen? Does the ocean truly wrap all the way around her like a belt? How does your empire protect itself from the alphas?"

"Woah, slow down. One question at a time. I haven’t seen a lot of Madra, well, maybe more than most. Though not nearly as much as I plan to. The oceans definitely don’t connect all the way around the planet. There are massive landmasses, millions of times larger than this island, which block them. Before I forget, thanks for feeding me. I wouldn’t have kept you here if you insisted. So yeah, thanks for the help.”

"You are welcome," She said with a far-off smile as she gazed at the horizon. “Millions of times larger? Amazing…”

“What's the deal with this uncle of yours?” His question snapped her back to the present and she answered matter-of-factly.

"Uncle is the leader of all the People. He is the Aahmra. The most powerful auramaster in our history, though he is mean like a snake."

"An auramaster? That's a thing, huh?" Jiran's imagination ran wild as he idly scraped off layers of charred, dead skin. He felt like a snake himself as he shed the final pieces. He stood up and stretched, enjoying all the sensations of being alive: A healthy body free of pain, standing on fully functional legs brimming with power, and the cool breeze that tickled his butt cheeks.

Wind? on my… butt cheeks?

Jiran knew before he looked, but his brain refused to accept the answer before his eyes saw the truth for themselves. Sure enough, his clothes had been completely incinerated in that brief moment between protective coatings. Such was the pain and emotional trauma of near-death that he failed to notice his nudity until this very moment.

His head slowly ratcheted to Mayalyn, whose eyes had dilated once more while her mouth hung open in shocked silence.

Well, at least we're even now.