Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

The thick, puffy clouds mingled with the black smoke that rose from Pippa's burning home. They darkened as the atmosphere became seemingly heavier. Specks of soot began falling, drifting over rooftops and gathering in corners.

Hector's gaze shifted from Harry to Pippa. The short girl rested a hand on her hip, anger and accusation simmering in her eyes. If what she said was true, Hector could hardly blame her; knowingly or not, Harry had brought ruin to her home.

"What are you talking about?" Jodie asked, stepping forward, soot puffing up with each step before she stopped in front of Harry. "And what happened to you? I thought you were healed."

Harry frowned, realisation dawning on his features. "Jodie, it's—"

A sharp hiss from Jodie cut him off before he could finish what he was about to say. He blinked, turning his head to Hector, then to Mirae, confusion swimming across his features, not understanding what he'd said wrong.

"Don't use that name, not out here," Jodie said, her gaze drifting to the growing crowd. Men still bustled by, their heavy footsteps beating against the cobblestone, as they rushed to put out the fire. "Just tell us what happened."

Hector's gaze moved back to the boy, tracing the lines on his neck and noting the patterns they had left on his skin. A sickening worm of worry squirmed in his gut. This probably had something to do with the egg. In fact, it no doubt had something to do with why those two individuals turned up.

They had to leave. There was no telling when more would arrive.

"Well, I was actually coming to ask Pippa if she'd heard anything from Hector," Harry said, dropping his head, ginger hair falling over his face. "I didn't know this would happen. I didn't realise the feeling was actually real…"

"That's a load of crap," Pippa snapped.

A few in the crowd looked over, murmuring and cupping a hand over their friends' ears as they whispered and pointed at Pippa and her mother. The girl's brow furrowed, and she shrank in on herself slightly.

Her mother unwrapped her arms from her and brushed a hand through her hair, before shakily moving to a small group of women—neighbours, perhaps?

"It isn't," Harry said, raising his head, with water pooling at the corner of his eyes. "I admit, for a few days now, ever since these appeared," he gestured towards the lines running up his neck and crawling onto his face. "I've had this strange feeling that something is watching me."

Watching? That's strange. It can't be the thing from the egg. We killed it. It was dead. But then, something had to have given birth to it. Is that what's watching him?

Hector turned away from the ginger-haired boy, Mirae glancing at him as he did. His gaze travelled down the street. There, he saw a few people stepping from their houses, barefoot, making their way down to the growing crowd. They had to go.

"Everything alright, Hector?" Mirae asked, reaching out for his hand. Her warm skin brushed against his, and he clasped his hand around hers, giving it a tight squeeze.

"We have to get going, is all."

"But what about Pippa?" Mirae asked, turning back to her freckled friend. "We can't just leave her like this."

Hector levelled a gaze at the girl, then his gaze moved over to the crowd, searching for Pippa's mother. The dishevelled woman was making her way back over with a look of utter loss on her face. A knot of anxiety built in Hector's chest. He didn't need to read her mind to guess what had happened—the slums were not a place overflowing with kindness.

Shifting his gaze back to Harry, Hector dropped to a knee, disturbing a puff of soot. Harry looked over, pausing what he'd been about to say. "We need to get out of here," Hector said. "Once we are safe, we can talk about this more."

"Safe?" Harry turned his head to Jodie. Then to the crowd. His lips quivered as his eyes shifted back and forth rapidly. "I can still feel them watching me… I can."

"Yep, it's time to go." Hector reached forward and hooked his arm under Harry's own, brushing his scratchy rags against Hector's bare arm. Harry yelped slightly, apparently finding himself on his feet quicker than expected.

Jodie stepped to the side, her eyes searching the crowd. "I don't see anyone. But you say the feeling is still there?"

Harry nodded.

"I'm sorry, my love," Pippa's mother's voice caught Hector's ear. "Perhaps once the fires are out, I can go inside and see what I can scrounge up; maybe there is enough to buy a tent and set up for the night."

Hector glanced back over at Pippa. Her mother was on her knees, wrapping her daughter in a tight hug as tears streamed down her cheeks. They'd have to sleep rough. No one was going to shelter them tonight.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Hector," Jodie began.

But he held up a hand, the light breeze blowing against his fingers, and she fell silent. "I know. But this is a lot. You moving in alone will use up a lot of resources."

"Then we hunt for more," Jodie said, stepping forward. Hector turned to her, and she brought a hand to her mask, adjusting it and lowering her voice to a whisper. "I'm more than certain we will find a buyer for the beast cores. And the Hairless Rat hide will be worth something, I can guarantee it."

Hector took her words in as he watched Mirae comfort her friend. His sister looked back at him, her purple eyes posing the same question that Jodie did. Guilt mixed with concern played in Hector's chest. Could he really leave them out here tonight? Not to mention, what if those guys came back?

The murmurs from the crowd grew as a group of men stepped through the gate of Pippa's house, sweat shimmering on their foreheads. "Been put out now," one of them said, clattering his bucket to the floor and catching his breath. A round of applause came from the gathered people.

The man who spoke raised his hands to quiet them. "Alright, you can all make your way home now. There's nothing to see here." He then dropped slightly, picking up his bucket. He let out a small grunt and staggered a little before moving off with the other men. Their work was done.

Their help wasn't born of kindness. They just didn't want their houses to burn down because of someone else.

"Alright," Hector sighed. "They can come along, but this isn't permanent. After all, we can't keep everyone underground."

"I know, I know," Jodie said.

Hector then nodded at Mirae, and he could practically see the joy radiating off her body.

—- —- —- —-

Emela braced a shaky arm against the door to her room, her skin pressing against the cool oak as it creaked open. A cool breeze rushed by her, ruffling through her sweat-soaked fringe and filling her with a tingling euphoria that moved down her spine.

As she let out a breath, moving into the room, Nyx shuffled in behind her, closing the door with a thump that was both heavy and soft. "You pushed yourself a bit too hard today, Mistress," Nyx said, stepping over to the side of the room and pouring water from a jug she'd prepared earlier into a fresh glass that had sat nearby.

Emela flopped onto her bed in a puff of cooling air. Her thick, white silk blankets embraced her as she let out a satisfied moan. Pleased to be off her feet. What did it matter if she pushed herself? Instructor Shallowcold would hardly complain.

"Here you go, Miss."

Emela turned her head, peeking over the silk sheets to the glass cup that rested in Nyx's palms as the young maid handed it to her. She groaned, pushing her hands into the sheets and turning to the side so she was sitting on her bed. Emela took the cup from Nyx, bringing the cooling glass to her lips.

Her lips trembled as the exhaustion washed away from her with each sip. In moments, her head was back, draining the last droplets from the cup.

A tut came from her side. Emela glanced over to find Nyx shaking her head at her. "That's not very ladylike, Mistress."

"A lot of things I do lately aren't, Nyx," Emela said, handing the maid her glass. "And the things I do in the future probably won't be. Speaking of, has Jonathan gotten back to you about the bribe?"

"No, not as of yet." Nyx strode back over to the water jug and poured Emela another glass. "But it shouldn't be too hard to find someone in the refinery who wants the money. After all, people get paid a lot less just to let someone in."

"That's quite true," Emela said. With access, they could sneak into the refinery and get a look at the records and maybe understand the Muddust connection with the Collar Gang in more depth. Alongside Hector's Talent—if she could convince him, it wouldn't be too hard. "Still, I—" Her breath hitched in her throat as she glanced at a letter resting on her pillow.

"Did you leave this here?" she asked, turning to Nyx, who padded back over, her feet sinking into the soft fur carpet. The maid turned her head to the letter, a frown warping her features.

"Why would I just leave it there instead of giving it to you?" Nyx asked.

Emela nodded, turning back to the letter. If not her friend, then who? A cool breeze blew across her hand from the open windows as she reached for the letter. Pressing her fingers against the edges, she carefully brought it to her face.

'To Emela,' it read.

"Shall I?" Nyx said, reaching forward. Emela hesitated. There wouldn't be anything wrong with it. There were easier ways to kill her—but still. Letting out a sigh, she handed it to Nyx.

The black-haired maid punched her nail through the side of the letter with a pop, the paper giving way with ease as she tore it along the edges and pulled out a little note. Emela's brow creased as her eyes moved from Nyx's fingers to the sheet of paper, trying to make out its contents, even though she couldn't see the front.

"It says," Nyx said, catching Emela's eye. "Consume no more of your pills; they were tainted and may still be." Lowering the note, Nyx wet her lips and paused, her words failing her.

Emela's mind stalled, confusion fogging her brain, resisting her attempts to process the information. What did they mean by her pills were tainted? What pills? They couldn't be referring to... Her Mana pills—but that was the only thing that made sense.

"No, that can't be right," Emela said, taking the letter from Nyx and reading over the note. It said nothing else. "All the children receive pills from the same batch. When would they? How would they?"

Emela pushed off the bed, padding around it and moving over to her window seat. The cool breeze blew through her fringe, calming her mind and slowing her thoughts. She dropped onto the plush couch, her eyes drifting around the room. Her room. The place that had once brought her comfort. It now seemed so small.

"Mistress, who could have sent this? What if they are mistaken?" Nyx said, moving over to Emela. "If what they say is true, wouldn't everyone be receiving tainted pills?"

Emela's mind rang hollow, as a dull, distant thought clicked into place. Theories she'd discarded, considered paranoid by her mother, and childish by Shallowcold. After all, there were limits a family would go to in the name of competition. At least there were supposed to be.

Emela glanced up at Nyx, a cool, calm settling across her chest, a certainty. Firm. "Why was I the only one who couldn't conduct mana? Why? If not this? Why has cultivation become so painful for me when it was once easy? It all makes sense now."

"Mistress," Nyx said, stepping closer. Emela took the black-haired girl's hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

"I cannot trust this family. In a way, I hate to say it, but everything with Hector is perfect timing." She pushed off the window seat, her eyes shifting to the sword that hung on the rack by the door. It was a simple weapon made of tempered, refined iron. Her mother's gift to her.

"What are you planning, Mistress?"

Emela's blue eyes shifted to Nyx. The maid shivered and stepped back, and Emela stepped forward. "I think we have an offer to accept."