Kapitel 42: Paradise City
Flickering and sputtering, cracking and snapping, the campfire rages before of me. Cross-legged, I sit, holding my hands out, defrosting them near the fire's glow. My blood renews its obligations to my fingers, and I retrieve my hands from the fire's emissions, lift my fork, along with an open can of something from between my legs, and begin to eat.
Boasting a slimy consistency and an odour I would more readily accept in a mortuary, the slick, brown paste sliding its way down my throat triggers my gag reflex. It's not that I'm unused to foul-tasting foods, but that whatever this is, is particularly obnoxious. In hindsight, I should have packed for longer.
It's been fifteen days since I left the academy. Only moments ago did I pass through the borders of the Oswald region and enter into the Tantial. While I had to contend with a few Tension-beasts, the predominant source of my irritation thus far has come from the seemingly endless supply of mercenaries vying to be the ones to claim Xan's reward. Though, I suppose I can't complain too much. Without pillaging from their supplies, I would have run out of my own mere days after setting off...
For six hours a day, I'm untraceable. For the rest of the day, I'm on the move. Though my tactic has limited the coordination and frequency of attacks, it hasn't eliminated them altogether. My distortion bracelet is impressive, but it's a temporary solution to a long-term problem. I'll need to find something more permanent when I reach Gandel city.
'Get up. We're leaving.' With a silent nod of her head, Olivia drops her tin of equally offensive foodstuff and stands with me to her feet.
Without words, she draws the sword from her side and charges at me. She swings diagonally, aiming to cut me from shoulder to hip, but pauses before her blade makes contact. Grunting her frustrations, she wrestles with her own hands, urging them to complete their motion. For the fifteenth time in as many days, she sighs, resheaths her sword, and walks to the head of the land-dragon drawn carriage.
'How far now until we reach the city?'
'We should arrive in under eighteen hours.' Olivia climbs into the bench at the front of the coach and takes the reins. With a curt grunt, she indicates her readiness to depart. Complying, I walk to the side of the carriage, open the door, and enter. Taking my seat on the settee within, I tap the roof of the coach, and we begin to move.
Minutes pass and then hours. With nothing besides the unceasing churn of wheels on grass to occupy my senses, I close my eyes.
I don't know how much time passed during my rest, but I'm jolted from my semi-meditative state by a sudden halt of momentum.
Three knocks on the front of the omnibus inform me of three incoming mercenaries. I stand to my feet and exit the interior of the carriage. Olivia's signal proves true. In the distance, three chariots tethered to giant wolves hurry towards us. They draw closer and closer until I can see their riders unaided by the use of Tension; three men, each of them as muscle-bound as the others. Riding in a triangle formation, they speed across the plains, exhausting their distance from me.
'They're rank-two; you can handle it.' Olivia responds to my request, well… Command, with a grunt. She releases the reins and steps down from the head of the carriage. Walking past me, she stretches out her left hand and taps three sections of her arm, generating a ball of oozing, green liquid. Reaching far above her head, the sealed Art towers over her. With two fingers, she taps the palm of her hand and points her hand towards the approaching enemies.
Carving a deep trench as it moves, the emerald ball of acid soars towards the chariots. The mercenaries change course, swerving away from their approaching end. Their efforts are wasted; as if drawn by some magnetic force, the giant sphere of acid chases after them. All at once, the ball catches up with its target. The men cry out, but their cries are swiftly silenced. The orb consumes the three before bursting, showering the ground beneath in its corrosive liquid, melting through the soil, and forming a crater.
'Very impressive. I'll have to get you to teach me that Art.'
'I would rather die.' She speaks as if she has a choice; she does not. Her life is mine now, to do with as I please. Though sealed Arts can only be used once before they need to be reapplied, so long as the resources to do so are still present, their chief benefit lies in their flexibility. A Tension Master within the mortal realms of cultivation is limited to a single principle of Tension. As a body-Tension master, to cast an Art outside of the principle of body-Tension is simply impossible. However, no such restrictions exist when casting sealed Arts. The converting force of the Art is not reliant on the Tension Master's attributes but rather on the ingredients used to craft the sealed Art. As such, sealed Arts bypass much of the rigidity found within the mortal realms of Tension Mastery. Suffice to say, sealed Arts are useful tools to acquire, and before Olivia's utility is spent, I will acquire all the sealed Arts that she possesses.
I re-enter the carriage and take my seat. Signalling Olivia to depart, I tap the roof of the coach. Moving from a trot to a gallop, the land-dragon resumes its race through the Tantial region. Glancing down at my wrist, I inspect the gems encrusted into my distortion bracelet. Of the three jewels, two of them emit a pale, white light. The third, while not completely free from illumination, only radiates a dull glow.
It seems there are at most six hours remaining before I can rid myself of my pursuers. I don't know how long I'll need to remain in Gandel city, but it's best not to enter until the bracelet is functioning. Once in the city, I'll search for some means of extending the time for which I can thwart far sight. Indefinitely would be ideal…
Within the carriage, I travel hours more, stopping intermittently to allow both Olivia and the land-dragon to rest and to rid myself of the occasional nuisance wasting their efforts to track me down only to swiftly and painfully die at my hands. Light streams through the gaps in the curtains. Leaning forward in my settee, I Part the drapes to allow the mid-morning sun to bathe me in its radiance.
A strange warmth spreads from my wrist. Looking down, I see the final gem on my bracelet blink into full luminosity. The air begins to vibrate with energy, creating a visible distortion around me. As if struck by lightning, my muscles spasm, forcing my body to go stiff. The all too familiar paralysis locks me in place. I grit my teeth and wait for the adverse effects of the wristlet to wear off. Counting the seconds in my mind, I reach the borders of the triple digits before sensation begins to return to my extremities.
With a deep sigh, I clench and unclench my hands. Next comes my wrists; swivelling them around in their joints, I confirm their renewed functionality. My arms, neck, and legs follow, though stiff at first, within a few movements, they regain their flexibility. Confident in my recovery, I stand. Though the carriage is moving at breath-taking speeds, and the low roof above prevents me from standing to my full height, I confirm that the after-effects of the bracelet's activation have passed.
With three taps to the back of the carriage, I inform Olivia to alter course and head directly for Gandel city. Though we could have arrived an hour ago, to have done so, to have given the ones who are tracing me an exact location for where they should find me… Could such an action be called anything other than foolishness?
Of course not.
The sudden change of direction flings me around in my seat. The coach slows but then lurches forward, pushing me back into the settee. At high speeds, we travel. Half an hour goes by, barely noticed. I feel each bump as the carriage moves from a grass terrain to one of gravel. Crunching the ground beneath, the omnibus speeds across the paved road.
The beast pulling us forward slows and then stops. I look out of the window to my side to see buildings. Tall and broad, massive structures of concrete and glass stand attached to one another. Though fully linked, the differing shades of colour adorning sections of the buildings mark the singular architecture as multiple different habitations.
Taking my spatial ring from around my neck, I withdraw a black cloak. I pull the cloak over my white, buttoned shirt and lift the hood so that it hides my face. Standing to my feet, I open the door to the carriage and hop out. The firmness of the cobble-paved street gives me pause. After weeks of soil, mud, and grass, I had almost forgotten what it feels like to stand on solid ground.
Olivia directs the carriage to the edge of the city. Stepping down from her seat, she reaches the ground. A man stands on the border of the cobbled street; she fetches a silver coin from her satchel and hands it to the man. In turn, the man climbs aboard the carriage and rides it from my sight. Turning around, the black-haired woman walks back to me.
'The city's divided into two sections. The slums where the nameless mortals live, and here, the section segregated for the sole use of Tension Masters. It's not much better than the slums if you ask me, but it looks prettier, so everyone gets to pretend they're like the high-borns they serve.' Though her stare could freeze a river, she volunteered that information free from compulsion…
I'll mark that as progress.
'Where are we going?' I ask.
'The man I told you about operates a small shop nearby. Follow me.' Doing just that, I walk behind the woman. The sounds and smells of the city assault my senses. An assortment of fried meats, sickly perfumes, and shit mingle in the air, concocting a bewildering miasma. Children who are no older than eight years of age play in the streets. Together with her friends, a particularly blithesome young girl pushes a hoop with a stick. With each tap to the side, she maintains the hoop's momentum. Running beside the rotating ring, the girl squeals her delight as she manages to keep her hoop in motion longer than the boys she is playing with.
Immodestly dressed young women strut towards older gentlemen. The ones not turned away whisper something into their men's ears, take them by the hand, and lead them away.
A complex feeling rushes through me, I don't understand it at first, but as I focus on my emotions, I realise that what I'm experiencing is discomfort.
There's something strange about this city…
On the same street where children play, prostitutes work? Everyone seems perfectly content with this arrangement. At the very least, no one has stepped in to do anything about it.
'The people here might be Tension Masters, but they're still nameless.' Olivia halts her movements, allowing me to walk to her side. 'You were wondering what's wrong with this city, right?'
'I was.'
'It's relatively peaceful here, but that doesn't mean this place doesn't have its share of problems. Almost everyone you see is indebted to one of three mid-tier Clans. The Clans bought them as slaves but gave them a choice. They could be sent into the Towers as miners, or they could live and work here. Their children and their children's children will forever remain the property of the Clans, but they could live with relative freedom.'
Turning my face towards Olivia, I raise an eyebrow. 'What would that have to do with the prostitutes?' She chuckles at my words.
'They're not prostitutes; they're breeders. The three Clans I mentioned are victims of the Dread Mother's curse. Their women are infertile, so they use this city as a breeding farm. The children that show the most promise are taken into the Clans, the rest live out their lives in this city, unless they somehow find a way to pay off their debt. The kids born with the ability to use Tension can remain in this part of the city, the ones born mortal are confined to the slums.'
My blood begins to boil; I inhale deeply and suppress my oncoming rage.
'Come on. I'd like to sleep in an actual bed tonight, so the quicker you finish your business, the quicker I get to take a hot bath, eat a warm meal, shit into something I didn't have to dig myself and go to sleep.
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
Clone_v2
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Well, um, okay. So let's none of us talk about my warped imagination. Sound good to you? Perfect.
I really enjoyed writing this chapter because it gave me the chance to illustrate more of the world than I have been able to up to this point. It's all well and good knowing how dark and twisted the world of Ember's Crown can be based on Nero's reflections on it, but to actually demonstrate it in this way, I really enjoyed doing that.
If you're thinking "Wait, Olivia was born there, how did she get out? Plothole! Plothole!" Well, stop thinking that, it'll all be explained.
I've had the plan for this arc ready for a while, it's going to go in some strange directions. Things might not all be as they seem...
Well, I won't say anything else about this other than I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope to see you back next week for the next one.
Alright, I'll do the thing.
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Come back next Wednesday for a new chapter. Until then...
Ciao.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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