Full morning light filtered through the tangled web of branches overhead. Dew clung to the blades of grass like scattered crystals on the damp soil below. Treiton, Luca, and their three escorts walked in tense silence through the woods skirting the road.
Neither boy dared to speak. Luca had woken earlier in confusion and alarm when the leader of the mercenaries set him down. He had immediately asked Treiton what was happening, but the explanation he received was as short and unsatisfying as the one Treiton himself had been given barely an hour before.
When Luca tried to ask more, the woman had snapped sharply with just two words, but a threat all the same: "No talking."
So the boys walked: breaths measured, footsteps steady, one foot placed obediently in front of the other. The mercenaries exchanged the occasional muttered phrase, but it was only ever about when they would stop or what they might eat. The leader demanded quiet obedience, answering even his own companions with single-word replies.
Treiton spent the entire march gathering every detail he could.
The woman—called Leave by the leader, who was addressed only as Boss—was thin and slightly malnourished. Her face was gaunt, her hands spindly and veined. She was young, and something of her underlying beauty still lingered, but it had been worn down by whatever brutal life she'd lived.
Up front walked the smaller man—Glace—leading the way. A short sword bounced against his hip while his head jerked around in erratic, twitchy motions. There was something unsettling simmering beneath his skin, a strange energy Treiton couldn't quite identify, but it made him uneasy all the same.
Treiton inhaled slowly, steadying his breath against the tremor in his legs. They weren't tied or shackled in any way, but only ordered to walk. And they obeyed without a whisper of resistance. Both knew they had no choice.
He flicked a lock of blond hair from his eyes with a quick puff of breath. What do I do here?
The question lingered uselessly in his mind. The only "guidance" he received was the occasional buzzing whisper echoing from his new abilities: Escape and hide. It informed him his little companion wasn't all-knowing, and not always helpful in the moment.
Hours slipped by as he continued observing them, careful never to stare long enough to draw attention.
The march remained slow but steady.
Eventually, under the smooth warmth of the midmorning sun, Treiton's legs began to ache in earnest. His breathing grew uneven despite his effort to control it. Luca glanced at him with concern, opening his mouth to say something, but Treiton shook his head quickly and gave a faint curve of his lips.
Then his worn shoe caught on a small root. Treiton stumbled, his hand shooting out to grasp empty air. "Damnit," he burst out before he could stop himself. He lurched forward and dropped to one knee directly onto the exposed root, pain spiking sharply through his leg.
Before even two seconds passed, a sharp boot slammed into his chest.
Air exploded from his lungs as he collapsed backward, arms curling inward as he fought to breathe.
"Hurry up, you brat! You think I want to keep walking at this pace?!" Glace snarled, his glare burning with fury.
[Injury: Minor. Recommendation: Escape and hide.]
I swear… If you say that— Even his thoughts were cut short by his own wheezing, pain throbbing through his chest and ribs.
"GET UP!" Glace bellowed, pulling his foot back to strike again.
"Glace." Boss's voice cut cleanly through the clearing. It was quiet, calm, perfectly controlled. But despite its softness, Glace froze instantly. "Don't ruin the merchandise. There won't be another warning."
Glace clicked his tongue in annoyance but obeyed, spinning back around with a frustrated huff.
Do they not get along? Treiton wondered as he tried to push himself up on trembling arms. His muscles quivered, pain and exhaustion stacking atop each other until his strength simply gave out. Luca bent down to help drag him upright, but a calm voice halted them.
"We'll rest for a while," Boss said, raising a hand with quiet authority. "Catch your breaths."
Both boys collapsed where they stood, inhaling slowly, lungs fluttering like overworked bellows. It was difficult to judge time, but Treiton guessed about three hours had passed since their march began.
We have to get out of this, but I can't do anything with this body… He leaned back against the rough bark of a nearby trunk and closed his eyes, Luca following suit. Just five percent first. Can't make it obvious.
Treiton drew in a slow, controlled breath.
[BZZZ! Aether Integration Instinct activated. Aether Integration: 0/100%. Chance of Injury: High. Efficiency: 23/100%.]
He began the breathing technique again, carefully watching the rising number behind his eyelids. After only a few slow rotations, it reached the targeted five percent. He cracked one eye open, just a sliver, checking for any visible change, but his complexion looked the same.
So he continued, doubling the effort, and his efficiency nudged upward bit by bit.
At ten percent, his skin still showed only the faintest tinge of red. He inhaled deeply. Alright, let's push a bit more, he decided, a plan forming in the back of his mind.
Warmth diffused gently through his back, spreading into his chest, flowing upward until he reached an even twenty percent. Before he could decide whether to stop, someone shook his shoulder, jolting his eyes open just as his efficiency climbed to a clean thirty percent.
A faint heat clung to his skin, something noticeable, but in this weather—it could be easily explained. Nothing suspicious.
"Drink," Leave said curtly, holding out a leather pouch.
Treiton accepted it, lifting it to his lips. The water was lukewarm but still refreshing. He took three mouthfuls before she tugged it back with a brief nod.
"Up."
He stood, muscles stiff and uncooperative, aided by Luca, who had already received his own drink.
They continued the march as before.
In the renewed silence, Treiton summoned his projection, eager to see if anything had changed.
[Name: Treiton. Strength: 0.5, Agility: 0.6, Stamina: 0.51]
His brow pinched. That… can't be right? Only stamina?
Luca was fifteen as well, yet his stats were comparable to grown adults. Treiton glanced down at his own frame, and one unpleasant thought surfaced:
Well fed.
He glanced at his friend again. Luca was more muscular, yes, but still just fifteen. There was no reason he should match adults two heads taller while Treiton lagged so far behind. His strength and agility had to be above average.
His earlier conclusion had been that Aether Integration increased all physical attributes, even requiring exercise to truly take effect. Are my expectations too high? Just because it's magical to me doesn't mean it can ignore reality. There must be limits, I suppose.
Unwilling to guess further, he formed a clearer request within himself: I want to see my changes.
The buzzing response came instantly.
[Symbiotic Instinct activated. Assisting host…]
[Extending analysis. Micro-adjustments detected from last preservation.]
[Strength: 0.5 (0.004), Agility: 0.6 (0.004), Stamina: 0.51 (0.013)]
[Analysis will update further as efficiency increases. Recommendation: Attain perfect breathing rhythm.]
Treiton let out a relieved breath. You really are incredible, he praised the creature-like blessing burrowed within him. There was improvement, no matter how slow. He imagine efficiency would increase growth, but beyond that, had no guesses.
For now, the increases were tiny, truncated off at mere hundredths of a decimal.
Even so, he felt a quiet satisfaction. It was proof. Something inside him was changing even if it wasn't felt physically.
A path was thankfully found winding through the woods, but their pace never eased. Birds chattered overhead in scattered bursts, and insects droned from every direction, filling the air with a restless hum. Minutes bled into hours until, when the sun finally peaked—
"Stop," Boss commanded.
Even the other two mercenaries slumped forward, halting instantly without the slightest hesitation. Everyone was truly spent—everyone except, of course, the man whose strength was double that of the others.
Luca held his breath steady, but his legs trembled beneath him, the uneven terrain having stripped away his advantage.
Boss looked at the boys. "Take off your shoes. Blisters will form otherwise. We still have to continue, so don't waste time." Then he addressed his companions. "We'll eat, rest, then resume. At this rate, it'll be a couple days until my connection."
The group nodded, each of them now a little more aware of how long this forced march would last. Treiton, however, knew one thing with absolute clarity: he had no intention of finding out what fate awaited him at the end of this journey.
Only twelve percent had diminished from his Aether Integration. He wasn't entirely sure how that would affect him, but feeling more or less restored to his usual state, he closed his eyes and began the practice again.
Twenty percent, same as before.
He had noticed something earlier as well: despite the strain, the technique seemed to help his body recover more quickly. Only a few minutes into it, his breathing smoothed, and his fatigue eased.
[Aether Integration: 28/100%. Efficiency: 35/100%.]
When he finished, he opened his eyes slowly. Efficiency didn't rise as much… I guess the better I get at breathing, the less there is to improve, he reasoned. My skin is more burned than before too. The conclusion came naturally. Starting from a higher percentage produced a harsher overload.
Of course, there was a solution. Emberleaf.
He felt someone staring at him just as the smell of cooking food entered his nostrils. Glace. Watching him like a guard dog.
"The hell you looking at?" Treiton spat, stepping out from the tree he leaned against.
He didn't make it two steps before Boss's hand, still slick with steam from stirring the pot clamped around his leg.
"I told you—" Boss began, voice low and deceptively calm, but Glace cut him off in panic.
"I haven't done anything! Let go of me, n—"
CRACK.
"Ahh! STOP! LET GO!" Glace screamed as his arm crumpled under the leader's grasp. Boss released him immediately, stepping back to the exact spot he'd been standing before, as if nothing had happened.
"I paid good money for those boys," Boss growled, rising to his feet and walking toward the whimpering mercenary. "Behave, and we'll all get paid. Don't…"
He bent down and seized a thick fallen branch with both hands.
CR-CR-CR-CRACK!
The branch disintegrated. Treiton sat frozen, eyes wide as saucers, as a hologram flashed to life without him willing it.
[Danger! Anomaly detected. Temporary adjustment.]
[Name: Boss. Strength: 5.0, Agility: 2.1, Stamina: 2.1]
Boss opened his hands, and splinters drifted down like dry leaves. "Am I clear?"
Pale-faced and trembling, Glace nodded without a single word.
A rustling behind them nearly launched Treiton off the ground as Leave emerged, arms full of small sticks, glancing between everyone in confusion. "Everything alright?"
Boss walked back toward the fire without answering her, picking up a small bowl near the pot.
"Come eat, everyone."