Luca stood, panting lightly. "This technique," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "You gotta move after doing it. Dad always said you'll get an injury if not."
Before Trei could ask anything more, Luca started to jog down the road toward the cart still slowly approaching. "We should take some initiative. Everyone's gonna pass us if we sit here like rocks!" he called back.
He's something else, Treiton thought, forcing himself up and after him at a much more leisurely pace. Someone like him… a servant? Why not follow in his fathers footsteps? Be a guard, or even possibly a Warrior?
The thoughts quickly dissolved with the thought the answer may simply be a result of his impulsive, naive, but honest nature. Either way, the answer wasn't very important.
Eventually, a horse clopped lazily toward him, Luca and the old man already mid-discussion, holding the reins, and cautiously eyeing the two boys as if already predicting trouble.
"...Ten coppers," Luca had been saying, lifting the small pouch with his hand. HIs voice was hopeful, carrying an edge that was trying to sound confident while still half-exausted. His red-tinge had already decreased several measures to what might be a light sun burn.
The old man didn't eye the pouch, eyes still flickering back and forth between the two. "Ten's a bit…" he trailed off. Town's not close lads. And I don't like making trouble for—"
Treiton arrived beside Luca just in time to see the hesitation deepen. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth to cut him off. "Fifteen then. We'd really appreciate a spot to sit," he offered. "Otherwise we'll walk."
The old man's brow didn't lift, but the tightness eased a touch. He glanced at their faces again, two tired young men down on their luck. He exhaled through his nose. "It's a few days' ride.," finally saying, "Stay in the back, but leave the tarp alone. No touching."
Treiton nodded immediately, "Understood."
Luca bobbed his head as well, relief brightening his face. He removed the coins, handing them over before stowing the case. "Thank you, sir!"
The old man clinked his tongue and adjusted the reins. "Climb up. Get yourselves settled before I change my mind."
They didn't need to be told twice. He and Luca hurried around to the rear of the cart. The canvas wrap was tied down tight over the cargo, concealing what seemed to be several wooden crates of various sizes.
They climbed in, sitting at the edge. Luca flipped down backward the second he found a clear enough spot. He didn't last ten seconds before his breathing became steady with sleep. Treiton looked behind him at the grey-haired man, who was fiddling with something in his hands as he drove.
Now seems a good time. A little safer than the side of the road anyway. His eyes drifted closed.
He steadied his breathing, trying to recall the sensation from before. The warmth that had drawn into him, threading through his spine and spreading. He let the bouncing of the cart fade away, the creak of wood lulling him.
Alright. Find that heat. Breathe just like him. All around us…
Nothing happened at first. But he didn't give up, pushing his recent memory to the limit. Suddenly, a faint tingle answered him. Right at the small of his back, a spark compared to his first experience, but real.
He didn't know if it was because this world contained this foreign energy and his former didn't, but it was as if something in him had changed. Adjusted almost instinctively to sense it after exposure.
His nostrils flared.
There.
He focused more. Breathing slower, steadier, matching the rhythm he was taught. And seeped in, flowing naturally in diffusion.
[BZZZ! Aether Integration Instinct activated. Efficiency: 4/100%.]
Treiton didn't flinch, only letting his mind touch the idea of efficiency. But who would be perfect the first try?
[Symbiosis Instinct activated. Assisting Host…]
[Aether Integration: 2 → 4 → 7 → 10 / 100%.]
The worlds continued to echo in his skull, but they felt distant—even muffled. His awareness was present, but limited only to this measure of his mind. He continued, pulling in more, the breathing facilitating movement like a pump.
The entire time, updates lingered.
By the time he had reached 50%, another message blinked behind his eyelids.
[Host Assistance—Integration inefficiency detected. Causes: Breathing, Sensitivity, Suitability.]
[Beginning guidance.]
Treiton barely had time to think before the instructions began. They followed simply: Inhale, Exhale. Repeat. Though there were subtleties. Over time, he realized the intricacies required.
One full circulation before returning to the place it entered from.
Inhale for ten seconds smoothly. Exhale for five. Three controlled, fast breaths in and out, each about one second. Then the process repeated.
Treiton followed without hesitation, feeling the sluggish trickle delve to more of a leaky faucet. Efficiency number flashed in his mind, slowly increasing by single digits.
Why is this thing helping me—or us? He let his mind wander as his body went into autopilot. Of course, he had an idea in his mind—not solid enough to be sure—but only one mysterious thing happened to him before his first death. That Luminous Invertebrate. He let that thought drop too, knowing the answer was out of reach. Since you're my only guide to life here, I"ll treat you as a blessing.
Dozens of circulations passed and so did time. Without feeling.
Then—
[Aether Integration: 100 / 100%. Injury: Minor – Excess Aether retained. Efficiency: 23% Recommendation: Stop immediately. Allow Integration Instinct full reset. Move!]
Trei's eyes snapped open and the world came rushing back in a mixture of overwhelming sound and color. His skinned burned with heat, flushed with the same stark red Luca had earlier. He pressed his hand to his cheek, recoiling from the touch.
Too hot.
He slid off the rear edge of the cart, landing with a soft thud on packed dirt. He began walking behind, jogging in place, enjoying the cool evening air.
The sun, he noticed, had already slipped on the horizon, near setting.
Hours. He'd been under for hours.
Up ahead, the old man glanced back, giving a strange nod of approval. "We'll be stopping for dark soon, it's good your stretching your legs."
Teriton let out a shaky breath and a grateful smile, the heat still pulsing through him. He'd completed his first session of Integration without issue.
With a flick of his will, he checked his lifeline, hearing the buzzing—a countdown to his lifeline.
[Preservation Instinct: 53%.]
Treiton continued his slow jog beside the cart until the heat finally ebbed from his skin, fading from a painful burn to a manageable warmth. Before long, the old man tugged gently on the reins, guiding the horse off the main road and down a narrower path shaded by tall brush and leaning trees all the way until they reached a small clearing near a creak.
"We'll stop here." The old man's voice carried back to him. He climbed down stiffly, stretching his back with a grunt when the cart came to a halt. "Help me unload a thing or two," he said, walking back. He pointed to a corner of the cart. "Not any of the crates, just the pot and sack there."
Treiton nodded, moving towards them and easing the canvas aside enough just to see the items indicated. A modest iron pot with wooden bowls and utensils tucked in. A burlap bag. Luca only stirred slightly but didn't wake.
There was already a fire pit in the clearing set up, likely this spot was a common resting place for merchants or travelers with the knowledge. It didn't take long before the pot was in place, and with the clank of stone, a fire under it.
The old man filled the pot from the creak, then emptied the bag into the pot—a collection of what seemed to be grains, dried strips of meat, and a handful of thin-stemmed herbs with small pale leaves at the tip.
They were both silent as the meal cooked.
"Eat with me, boy," the man said without looking up when the aroma began to spread. "Company is rare for me."
Treiton bowed his head gratefully, taking the bowl extended to him. "Thank you." He took an immediate sip without being polite.
[Bzzz! Suitable nutrients taken.]
[Aether Integration: 94 → 90 / 100%.]
Treiton froze. That much? From one bite? For the past hour trip through the side-road, only four percent had gone down. But now? He was stunned. Forcing his expression natural, Treiton tested the components individually.
First the meat.
Nothing.
Then a spoonful of broth thick with dissolved grain.
[Aether Integration: 89 / 100%.]
Then the herb.
A single pale stalk yielded another drop of two percent.
His pulse quickened. He immediately down the soup, reaching 78% in an instant. When it was empty, he looked up, unable to restrain the question. "What's in thai soup?"
The man blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "Like it?"
The true answer was that it was bland and overly tasting of herb, but Trei nodded fervently.
"Not much really. Some tried pig meat. Crushed oat. And Cinderleaf. Helps settle the stomach after a long ride."
Treiton swallowed. "Cinderleaf?"
Another chuckle. He tapped his boot, to the ground, pointing next to Treiton's own. "All around if you can spot it."
Trei peered down, seeing the distinct shape of the plant, but when looking around, saw nothing distinct. Just a blur of green and shadows. Maybe if I spent more time on botany… I'd be able to—
[BZZZ! Hunter's Instinct activated. Instruction: Intake material.]
He blinked, then before he knew what he was doing, Trei picked the herb next to him, and popped it into his mouth.
The old man stared, baffled. "...You're a strange lad."
But Treiton barely heard him. The world shifted. Within brush around him, talk and short grass, small batches began to brighten, flickering in the growing darkness.
He knew without confirming.
Clusters of Cinderleaf.
You really are a blessing, he praised the creature within him.