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Hyperion Evergrowing-Chapter 207: Regency
Two oxen leaned into the scritches they were receiving as Leif knelt next to the old, poorly maintained cart. The animals were mostly skin and bones, and had both woken up when he had trickled healing energy into them. Nobody else was up in the earliest hours of the morning, which meant the Scion could snoop around without being interrupted or noticed.
He reached under the cart and lifted it with only a minor effort, [Wood Manipulation] helping to keep it stable as he observed the underworkings of the battered vehicle. Two golden arms snaked up and around, scritching both beasts under the chin as he worked. He hadn’t started the evening after the party intending to go around fixing things, but he had to keep himself entertained somehow.
Leif had started by straightening out baskets full of arrows, reinforcing the shafts and improving the overall craftsmanship of the projectiles. Next had been a box full of bent and broken spears, and besides it had been a makeshift table with splintered shields. His power couldn’t do anything for broken metal or other non wooden materials, and that was somewhat of a problem now.
The steel spring serving as the cart’s suspension was a rusted, mangled thing. The vehicle must be a nightmare to drive, let alone ride in, every pot hole or bump in the road would send a jarring pain through every passenger’s spine. Leif let healing energy trickle into his fingers, not to use on the cart, it would have minimal effect other than temporarily strengthening the wooden parts of its underside. No, he just used it for light, the golden glow revealing the extent of the damage to the spring.
The wood rippled, parting even as it partially fused together, and the spring fell free into his waiting hand. Leif stood, letting the vehicle fall gently back into place. Memories of a life half forgotten played through his mind as the Scion went to find one of the barrels of oil used for weapon maintenance. He cleaned rust off the spring as best he could, then used raw strength to bend it back into shape. Finally he coated it in oil, then tested the elasticity. He completed the work quickly, quick enough to teleport back towards the carts with [The Amber Path], the skill allowing him to recall himself back to a previous location with a step.
To Leif’s surprise a muffled cry came from off to the side, he turned to see a shadowed figure stumbling away from where he had just appeared. The light from Season filtering down through the cloud cover was just enough for Leif to make out who they were.
“Ah, you’re one of Silas’s kids.” He said, projecting a gentle wave of non threatening intent towards the boy. “Sorry for surprising you, I didn’t think anyone was up.”
“Uh…” He said, his voice low as he fidgeted nervously, his eyes darted around, searching the darkness of the nearby camp. “Is… is anyone else awake?”
Leif gave the boy an assessing look, a name coming to him a moment later. Worry radiated from Hylon, a concern that seemed to indicate that even though he had been discovered, he was more afraid of a specific group finding out that he was still up. A faint sheen of perspiration lined his brow, and from the cycling patterns of his life-force he had more than likely been engaging in physical activities. Leif let his awareness settle over the camp like a thin blanket, but nobody but those on watch around the perimeter were awake.
“Nobody else, but if you act like that, anyone would think you’re suspicious.”
“Don’t tell them, please!” Hylon whisper-shouted, his voice trailing off as he realised he was being too loud.
“Well then, now I’m curious. What exactly am I not telling anyone?” Leif said, walking past the boy and kneeling down next to the cart. The two nearby oxen shuffled eagerly at his approach, but he soothed them with his aura instead of conjuring more limbs.
“Umm, well… What are you doing?”
“Maintenance.”
“W-why?”
“Keeping myself busy. It becomes important once you lose the need for sleep. But I’m still waiting for my own question to be answered.” He said, the underside of the cart rippling as he returned the spring to its proper location. The Scion moved the pieces of wood back into place, then infused them with an even distribution of his healing energy. Technically he could do a much better job by replacing critical parts with gilded wood, but that was likely going overboard.
“I… It was nothing bad, promise.”
“Right. A young man sneaks off in the middle of the night, only to return in the early hours of the morning flustered and nervous. I’m not judging, it’s your life.”
Hylon blanched, his eyes widening and heart rate speeding up. “What! No! It wasn’t- Nothing like that!” He clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from shouting. One of the ox’s let out a startled huff.
“Sure. It’s none of my business anyway, sorry for asking.”
“No! I was training! Honestly, it’s nothing like you think.”
“Training. In the middle of the night?”
“I… It’s not that weird, I do it all the time.”
“Were you training with a weapon?”
“Well, no… my spear broke and I haven't gotten another. I was just doing physical conditioning, honest.”
“I believe you.” Leif said, waving dismissively. He’d known immediately, but it had been funny to insinuate otherwise. Maybe that made him a bad person. “Though that doesn’t mean I understand why you’re bothering to do it in secret. Your grandfather doesn’t strike me as the type to care.”
“He would.” Hylon blurted. “I don’t want any of them to know, I don’t want them to think they’re not doing enough or that I’m not satisfied with the training we already do.”
“That reason doesn’t make as much sense as you probably think it does.”
The boy sighed. “You wouldn’t get it.”
He was right, Leif was baffled. But the mind’s of teenagers worked in strange ways, their logic often meandering down paths that made little to no sense to any outside observer. Though he was more than familiar with the burning desire of self improvement that could overtake people. The number of times he had needed to force Lucia to take a break was too numerous to count.
Leif shrugged. “Perhaps. But you’re clearly motivated, there’s no fault in that.”
“I… yeah. That’s my cart, by the way.” Hylon said, nodding at the vehicle Leif had just fixed.
“You should take better care of it, the suspension was broken.”
“Oh.”
Leif turned his attention to another nearby cart, this one quite a bit larger. “I have business with your grandfather, I’ll find him some time after dawn. Try to get some sleep, or your nightly outings will be obvious.”
“Right. I’ll try.”
“Goodnight.” Leif said, running his fingers along a broken wheel spoke.
===
The bustle of over a hundred people gathering their belongings and packing up supplies from the subjugation camp was perhaps more sluggish than it otherwise would be if most people weren’t sporting headaches and bleary eyes. Leif’s magic was as efficient at healing drunkeness as something like water or light aspected healing skills would be, but it was very effective at removing the symptoms of excess drinking.
He intentionally didn’t offer his services however, he had things to do now that day had arrived, and an endless parade of people wanting to sidestep the consequences of their actions wasn’t overly appealing. Instead he helped a group of larger men carry what nobody else either could, or was willing to attempt. The large boy, Rou, was among those putting their strength to work, though he seemed somewhat put upon by Leif’s apparent ease.
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He reassured the boy that he would get much stronger with levels, and that he shouldn't compare himself to someone with so much more experience. He didn’t seem to entirely understand, but he was quickly distracted by his work.
Leif spotted several more of the children Silas had taken in as the camp slowly dissipated. They were easy to make out, often being the youngest people present. He considered the wisdom, or lack of, of bringing so many young people to the heart of a dungeon break. Most of them had been in the camp rather than fighting, so they would have only been in direct danger if both the subjugation and containment forces had failed.
A certain amount of risk was necessary for growth, but that was only true for those old enough to actually gain a class. Lucia was an outlier in that regard, but her relatively slow advancement rate when weighed against the effort she was willing to put into leveling up was indicative of her being still too young for the system. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a limitation put in place by the system, it could very well have something to do with the maturity of the soul. There were a thousand theories for anything to do with the system and its inner workings, and the age humans tended to gain their first classes was perhaps the least of them.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Lucia materialised at his side with a half eaten bowl of porridge in her hand.
“Morning.” She said, the spoon still in her mouth, her mask half pushed up so she could eat.
“Keeping busy?” He asked, having sensed her coming.
“The party was too loud.”
Leif huffed with amusement and put down several rolled up tents.
“Oh! Mask girl.” Rou said, waving happily and almost dropping the cooking supplies he was carrying.
Lucia nodded in his direction, then slunk along beside Leif. “Have you talked to the old man? Can we go?”
“No, not yet. We need more supplies as well, and there was a rumour going around last night that one of the local noble families is interested in offering a reward to those that fought.”
“Reward? What will it be?”
“Money, maybe. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“I’d prefer a promotion seal.”
“I imagine most would. But they’ll be in high demand, especially up so far north. I think most of the artificers and enchanters are in the Empire, or further west in Ahle-ho. You didn’t reach ten in your [Rogue] class, did you?”
“Nine.”
“Almost there.”
“Mhmm.” She mumbled, finishing her porridge and holding out the bowl and spoon.
“That isn’t ours, go put it back where you got it.” He said, motioning with his head.
“It’s just a bowl.”
“You’ll get more [Rogue] experience putting it back without being seen than stealing it. Now go.”
Without a word she vanished, her presence quickly diffusing into the crowd, though not so much that he couldn’t track her progress. Leif mentally sorted through his spatial ring, then pulled out the tattered cloak he had placed within. It had self repair enchantments, but he was fairly sure they were dead, there would be no saving the piece of clothing. One of many victims over the past few months of travel.
He glanced towards Rou and saw the large youth being admonished for something he hadn’t noticed happen. Leif walked towards him, seeing the slump in the boy’s shoulders and the downcast expression on his face. “Rou.” He said, interrupting the middle aged woman he didn’t recognise mid lecture. “Could you bring me to your grandfather?”
“Uh, yup.” He said, suddenly looking eager.
“Not so fast.” The woman said, crossing her arms and glaring up at the boy. “This bumbling fool almost knocked into me. He…” She trailed off, finally turning to look at him. “Oh, sorry sir. Please, I won’t keep him.”
“She was angry.” Rou said sadly, watching her scurry off. “I didn’t mean to do anything.”
“Her anger wasn’t real, she just wanted to yell at someone.” Leif said, completely unimpressed. “Now, where is Silas?”
Technically he didn’t need the boy’s help since there were only two other noble aura’s in the camp, and only one of them had the feeling of age and steel, but it didn’t matter. Rou led him around mostly packed carts and partially dismantled tents, chatting away in the stilted way he talked. He didn’t have the sharpest mind, but he more than made up for it with earnest enthusiasm. Someone who could be happy even with the turbulent state of the world was lucky as far as Leif was concerned.
Silas was standing atop the cart Leif had fixed, his cane waving in the air as he barked a stream of orders that sent children scurrying in every direction, groups racing one another to get things ready. His armour was gone, though whether it was stored in one of the carts, a spatial artifact, or if the aged man had a skill that would allow him to stow it at will, Leif wasn’t sure. Their eyes met, and his faux scowl softened into something less severe, but more serious. He carefully got down off the cart and marched towards Leif, his cane supporting his steps.
“I noticed you were injured back in the dungeon, is it an old wound?” Leif asked, accepting the older man’s proffered hand and shaking.
“Aye, it's old. As old as the war. It’s not as debilitating as it looks.” He replied, grinding the but of his cane into the dirt.
“Apparently not, I saw you fight.” freewebnoveℓ.com
Silas’s expression twitched into a faint smile. “I may be grey and going senile, but I have a good few years left before I’m an invalid. Rou, go wake your lazy brother, he’s still sleeping over there.”
“I’d ask where you found so many kids without a family, but I suspect I already know.” Leif said, walking alongside the aged noble as they moved away from the controlled chaos.
Silas grunted. “The damn war, or the years of sickness that followed after. Most of the towns that just managed to scrape by ended up being culled by a blood disease. We’d find entire settlements filled with nothing but dehydrated husks, only those who managed to isolate themselves lived.”
“I can’t imagine.” Leif said honestly. He had seen devastation brought by war, but nothing so horrific.
“It was, if you’ll excuse my language, the worst fucking years of my life. You said you left Varan during the war?”
“In a sense.”
“Lucky, it was a damn mess. Not to mention all the political infighting and finger pointing. We couldn’t unify to prevent a tragedy, nothing would bring us together to help rebuild afterwards.” He spat to the side.
“I imagine it was a free for all to claim power in the vacuum left by the dead.”
“The ants tore through this country, even with the Empire’s help. We…” He trailed off, his eyes going distant. “We lost so much. I lost so much.”
“During the war, or afterwards?” Leif asked.
Silas didn’t reply, he led them out of the camp and part way up a nearby hill. Leif recognised a familiar boulder, and indicated that they should head in its direction. The short grass that covered what emerged from in between smaller stones was hardy and stiff, it barely swayed in the gentle breeze that blew in from the east. Two black birds circled overhead, their wide loops slowly bringing them closer to the distant camp, their occasional caws bouncing slightly off the rugged terrain.
“I lost everything of value during the war.” Silas finally said as he leaned against the large stone. “I don’t know how much you already know about me, but what I’ll say is this. Losing my title and land was damn near a blessing. It was freeing in a way I’m not sure how to describe. I took what little I had left and rode north, and I’ve been travelling around the country ever since.”
“Did you lead troops in a pitched battle on the edge of the northern wilderness? Our forces made a night attack against the enemy as they were trying to fortify the valley between two hills.” Leif inquired, his aura flexing slightly to read any reaction.
Silas shook his head. “No, though I believe I know of what battle you speak. I was positioned at an eastern fort with some three thousand troops.” As far as Leif could tell, the man’s words were truthful. “I take it you participated in the battle you mentioned?”
“I was a squad captain.” He said.
“Ah, one of the brats they trained at the capital? Common enough story, lots of third and fourth sons were groomed for leadership. Though I am impressed, you’ve come a long way if that’s where and when you started.”
“Life has given me several interesting opportunities.” Leif replied flatly. Silas chuckled, shaking his head.
“I won’t ask how you managed to leave the country. Frankly I don’t give a shit.”
“Good, it’s not a story I’m willing to share.”
They lapsed into silence once again. The first groups were departing the camp, snaking their way north.
“I’ve only had a handful of correspondences with my family since I left, so I’m largely ignorant as to the current political situation of Varan. I don’t plan on diving head first into politics. I have a single goal, and then I’ll be leaving.” Leif said. “But since you offered information I’m willing to listen. Ignorance is not something I enjoy.”
Silas grunted, pointing his cane northward. “Where do I begin? The old king is dead for one. He was a useless fucker, and from what I hear his son has even less of a spine. King Theodore Skarn has had almost no public appearances, so I have no way of confirming that claim, but I think his absence speaks for itself. Though he’s still quite young, early twenties I think, so maybe he’ll grow into the position. House Larit, Neive and Volen are ash, their bloodlines all but burnt out. Yerl is on the rise, so is Syre to a lesser extent. Kossia also has more of a foothold in Varan, though they’re still mostly situated in Epidor.”
He took a breath, scowling as if the words had a sour taste.
“Lots of minor houses rose and fell, though there are less of them now after the kingdom’s borders shrunk. The big winner, if one can be crass enough to crown one, is of course house Vin. Their holdings have grown more than any other, eclipsing even the Royal family. It makes sense I suppose, their old patriarch is the Lord Regent. Leif Vin is the most powerful man in the country, and everybody knows it. If house Skarn still holds power in a decade I’ll eat my cane.”