Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

A stiff silence settled over the tent. Only the sound of breathing and the occasional chatter from Pippa, her mother, Marcus and Harry came through. What could she do with what Emela had said? Mirae bit her lip, her eyes moving to her brother, as she brushed her hand across the cheap mat that covered the ground of the tent.

Emela had said something about Hector jumping in the way when she got back. But she was frantic in the moment, her words jumbled. And if Mirae was being honest, she was more interested in seeing to her brother than listening to the older girl.

"I wouldn't say you owe him your life," Lincoln said meekly. He shifted subtly behind Nyx as everyone turned to him, his eyes drifting to the side. Scratching at the back of his head, Lincoln looked at Emela. "I kinda think you both saved each other; he was just doing what was necessary to make sure everyone survived. I don't think he'd want you feeling this guilty about it."

"And how much did you see while running away?" Emela snapped. She looked away from Hector, her blue eyes shifting to Lincoln. They smouldered with an intensity Mirae hadn't seen before—Emela was often the calmest person, second only to Nyx. "Don't tell me what happened when you could barely even get close, Lincoln. Please."

Frowning, Nyx stepped forward. Her fist clenched at her side, while her gaze towards Emela softened. "I made a promise, miss. I have to get you home safe. If your parents find out, they may never let you out of the house again."

Mirae tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at Nyx's comment.

I understand coming home a bit late and causing your parents to worry. But still. The worst Hector got for doing that was a week. I can't imagine how intense Emela's parents are to lock her up for not complying once. Besides, how can Nyx be so sure? Did Emela have siblings? Did the same happen to them?

Shifting her gaze to Emela's hand, examining the black veins, Mirae let out a sigh. She'd need to get that treated, anyway. "Go, Emela. Hector would tell you the same if he were conscious. If you get locked in your house, then you wouldn't be doing him any favours."

"But what about you?" Emela asked. Her healthy hand brushed across the black lines on her damaged one. Nyx frowned as she watched it, inching a little closer. Emela looked back up at Mirae. "Who will defend you? No one here can fight one of those alone. I don't even know if we could do something without these two." Her eyes moved back to Hector.

"I don't disagree," Mirae said.

"So you get—"

"But that makes it even more important that you go," Mirae interrupted. "We need supplies to defend this place. To make it more defendable and livable. An income source can do that, don't you think?"

The scent of the bubbling soup slipped up Mirae's nose, its sensation quite comforting. Even she wasn't too sure if what she said made sense. But Emela couldn't stay; she had her own life to live. And Hector wouldn't want to take that away, especially if it was only because he got hurt.

Mirae's brow dropped. He'd gotten hurt, and she wasn't even there to help. Perhaps if she had broken through, she could have been of some use to him, rather than just sitting here nursing his wounds. She needed to get stronger; she would get stronger.

"You should listen to her, Emela," Nyx said, stepping over. She dropped into a squat and levelled her gaze at the blond-haired girl. "We can help more outside of this cave. But if you're trapped at home, you can do nothing for him."

Emela nodded her head, letting out a small grumble. It sounded like acceptance. She shifted, her hands resting against the carpet as she pushed off and got to her feet. Dropping her hands to her side, Emela pursed her lips and her eyes shifted between Hector and Jodie before going over to Mirae.

Her shadow washing over Mirae, as she blocked the light of the mana stone behind her, Emela's lips forced out a tight smile. "Take care of them, alright?" she said. The girl then turned, stepping past Nyx, who had gotten to her feet, and stopped in front of Lincoln. "You'll be staying here, I assume?"

Lincoln chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, for a little while. I need to gather a few more of the Earth Moles and hairless rats. It would be good if we could get some more hide ready and beast cores extracted."

Disgust washed over Emela's face as she shifted away from Lincoln. Had Lincoln said something wrong? Emela had seemed resistant to the soup; perhaps she didn't like the idea of eating rats. Mirae's gaze shifted between the blond-haired girl and Nyx, checking if her reaction was the same. But Nyx had gone back to her usual blankness.

"Alright," Emela said, glancing back at Nyx. "Let's get Marcus and find this tanner."

—- —- —- —-

"Are you serious, boy?" the white-bearded man said. He dragged his hand down his face, letting out an exasperated breath. Jabbing towards the hide resting on the table, its edges slicking blood onto the wood, the man frowned. "When you and that other brat came to me, you told me you had some of the best hide this side of the slum. I believed you. I waited. And you bring me this?"

Marcus shuffled back slightly, his brown eyes glancing at Emela. She frowned, her eyes fixing on the tanner. He'd been unwelcoming enough when they'd arrived, taking quite some time to receive them at the door and berating them about tardiness when he'd finally opened it. The man was a joke.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

His messy brown hair flopped to one side at an awkward angle, and his brown eyes sagged with black bags underneath them. The blue tunic he wore ruffled as he rested a hand on his hip, his fingers tapping against the brown fabric of his breeches.

He's just some tanner in the slums. Where does this level of arrogance come from? Is his brain damaged?

Emela clenched her fists weakly, pain shooting through her injured hand and up her arm. She winced. It was a miracle that her reckless act had worked. It was a miracle that she still had a functioning arm. "Are you saying you won't buy it?" she asked, levelling an icy gaze at the man.

"Emela," Marcus winced. She hadn't been polite, but this man wasn't exactly giving her much room.

"Buy it!" the man yelled, slamming his fist onto the table. The wood shook, creaking against the impact. Nyx stepped forward, coming to Emela's side. The man scowled. "Are you joking? Even the most useless apprentice could tell that this is crappy material. I mean, look at it."

The man gripped the edge of the Hairless Rat flesh between two fingers and pulled. Parts of the skin tore as he moved, like paper that had gone soggy. Rot had riddled the hide. Disgust slithered up Emela's throat, and she resisted the urge to look away.

"Do you see this?" the man said with a hiss. He jabbed at the hide, his finger popping through parts of it with a wet tear. How had Mrs Strongmail even gotten it off the creature? Rot seemed to set in fast with these rats. The man dropped the flesh back onto the table, the hide clumping together in bloody lumps. "You've wasted my time."

As Emela went to speak, a knock came from the door. "The young Monteg boy is here, my dear." A woman, the tanner's wife, called from the other side of the door.

Annoyance slipped off the tanner's face in an instant, and he perked up. He shuffled around the table and moved towards the room door before turning back to them. "You can take that trash with you on your way out," he said, opening the door to the room and plodding out.

Marcus blinked, turning to Emela. His features contorted into a pained sadness. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"It's fine, Marcus. We'll figure something out," Emela said, giving the boy a reassuring smile.

—- —- —- —-

"So your father should know some other tanners around the slums, right?" Emela asked, glancing back at Marcus as she stepped out of the room.

He nodded, a pained look creasing onto Marcus's face. "He does, but as I told the others, he keeps a certain type of clientele. I don't know if something like this would impress them too much." Marcus said, raising up the Hairless Rat hide tucked under his arm a little. The flesh clumped together in places, sticking up like wet clumps of paper.

"I'm sure someone would be interested. If not this, we could try the Earthen Mole hide," Emela said.

Nyx walked at a steady pace behind the two, as Marcus stepped next to Emela and shrugged. "Maybe. They are mana beasts after all, so the hide shouldn't deteriorate as fast."

Emela sighed. They had to make some profit from these rats somehow. Otherwise, it was going to be a tough time for Hector's plans—they couldn't target the Collar Gang if they couldn't feed themselves. She rested a hand on Marcus's shoulder and gave him a firm nod. "Like I said, we'll figure this out."

On the other side of the room, the tanner stood next to a thick curtain of hide hag from the ceiling. In front of him stood a boy, perhaps no older than Marcus—they both had a slight air of maturity about them.

He must be the Monteg boy, the tanner's wife had mentioned earlier. Emela scanned the room; it held no trace of the woman; she'd probably moved further into the house. The Monteg boy glanced over, his green eyes meeting hers. His grey blazer, edges embroidered with golden filigrees, shifted as he took his hand from his pockets and turned to them.

The tanner frowned, waving a hand dismissively in the air. "A bunch of charlatans. Ignore them, my lord. They would sooner waste your precious time, the same as they did mine."

Who wasted whose time? You big… No, Emela, that is not ladylike. Calm down. I need to calm down.

As they stepped closer, the boy's eyes moved to the bundle of hide resting underneath Marcus's arms. He did a double-take before stepping away from the tanner and walking over to them.

"Excuse me for a moment. Could I perhaps have a word?" the boy asked, his boot clacking against the wooden boards as he moved.

Emela frowned. She hadn't heard of the Monteg name before, but from the way he dressed, he shouldn't be a slum dweller. Marcus's blazer was not much when compared to the boy's own. Torn in places, it didn't quite fit right, slacking ever so slightly on Marcus's thin shoulders.

Whereas the Monteg boy's clothes fit him as if he'd been born to wear them. No crest adorned his clothing, and he walked with a sense of comfort, as if he were not within the boundaries of the slums. Though not deep, it was still far enough to give anyone from outside some pause. A merchant, then, and a pretty well-off one at that.

Emela stopped, Marcus and Nyx doing the same; both exchanged confused glances. The tanner stepped over with a frown, his eyes darting from the boy to her. Emela disregarded him. "What is it you wish to speak about?"

"That hide, is it by any chance Hairless Rat hide?" The Monteg boy asked.

"My lord, please don't waste your breath on these people. They aren't—"

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that, Triken?" the Monteg boy snapped, cutting off the tanner. "I do not need people to think I'm more important than I actually am."

The tanner clenched his jaw, falling silent.

The boy turned back to Marcus. "Is it?" he asked. Hope simmered in the boy's eyes. He would probably jump on Marcus, depending on the answer.

Turning to Emela, Marcus's eyes questioned their next move. It wasn't like the Hairless Rat hide was a secret, and they were looking for someone to sell it to. But this boy didn't look like a tanner, and if he was, what was he doing here? Weren't there secrets that needed to be kept from other tanners or something?

"And if it is?" Emela asked.

The boy smiled, his teeth on full display and his body shaking a little. Every time the prospect of sweets arose, Claymore, her youngest brother, wore a similar expression. "Then I'd buy it off you, and any others you may have."

"But my lord, they—"

"You may leave us, Triken," the Monteg boy said, fixing the tanner with a glare.

His gaze dropping, the tanner turned and slowly hobbled off, throwing back a glance every few steps. Almost as if he expected the boy to change his mind and call him back.

"I'm sorry about him. Triken can be a peculiar man, but he means well." The Monteg boy sighed before turning back to Emela.

"What's the catch?" she asked. The tanner had said this hide was worthless, yet this boy held a strange excitement towards it. Eager, perhaps a bit too eager. He understood something about this hide that they didn't.

"No catch," the Monteg said, raising his hands defensively. "It isn't often one sees the hide of a Hairless Rat, is all, even if…"

Emela raised a brow as the boy cut himself off and glanced to the side. He wanted this hide for something, and Emela wouldn't give it to him unless he told her why.