The tenth ranked of the cloud trial.
[10. Persephone {?} — 0:05:50:00]
Uriel looked at Persephone, then at Enoch, then back to her, and back to him.
"Oooh, is it like... what do you call it? A past fling or—"
"No!" they both said, nearly screaming. Enoch stood to his feet, and Persephone frowned with such visceral disgust that it could only be called a scowl.
The few people on the Terminus Floor quieted down, gazes slowly turning toward the trio.
"..."
Enoch sat back down, embarrassed, and Persephone regained her calm, her scowl easing into a neutral expression.
Sohow, this only seed to worsen the situation. Uriel swallowed hard, then laughed nervously.
"Haha! A-alright then. Apologies. So, anyway." He turned to her.
"What can we do for you? Have you eaten yet?"
She didn’t answer, and kept staring at Enoch.
"Mm. I see. I an, I ordered a bunch of food anyway, so we can share. Did you just want company, or—? I an, that’s totally fine with either way, I just wanted to know in case—"
"Relax," Enoch finally spoke.
His shoulders eased, and his aether slowed, settling into stillness. As soon as he did, Persephone’s aether ca to rest as well.
The subtle pressure and tension Uriel had been sensing finally faded.
’So that’s how the world reacts when soone is about to use their ability. Good to know.’
"Well that’s great." He chuckled, relief plain in his voice.
"Aren’t you going to properly introduce to your... friend?"
Persephone turned to him. "Oh? You’re not talking to anymore? Enoch is speaking for now?"
"No, no, no," he rushed out. "You weren’t answering, so I thought, you know, so people go nonverbal, I think? If that was —"
She smiled, then softly pinched his cheek. "Relax."
She tugged at it just a little, then let go and patted his face gently.
"I’m from one of the rcury Clans. My father is the Patriarch of the Ymael rcury Clan." She turned to the oddly silent Enoch. "And his father is the Patriarch of the Thorne rcury Clan."
"So we grew up together. We’re related, in a sense."
Uriel slowly nodded, still startled by the sudden contact.
"Ah, I see. That’s great then. Well, I’m Uriel, happy to et you." He smiled, this ti without any trace of unease. "I suppose he’s happy to see family as well."
Enoch didn’t comnt, and Uriel didn’t press.
"Glad to et you too," Persephone said, folding one leg over the other as she settled in. "We were talking about Spark Hunters, no?"
"You were asking whether people can evolve using other people’s sparks, right?"
He nodded. "Mhm. But I’m not sure if the question even makes sense. I don’t really know how tangible or intangible the spark actually is."
"Well," Persephone began, "if you understand the fact that you can trigger an evolution with sothing as vague as a specific type of aether, I think your question isn’t so baseless anymore."
"Plus, as I told you, they’re known as Spark Hunters. They’re Ascendants who go around killing other Ascendants with useful sparks, either to use for their own evolution, or to sell. So even make weapons out of them."
She threw Enoch a furtive glance. "They’re not very liked."
Uriel could only scream internally as Persephone’s seemingly casual words caused the air to tense once more, his body shivering at the spike of sheer killing intent that bled into the space around them.
’Oh my God. Please. Sothing, anything, save ...’
DING!
The gods, dead or alive, seed to hear his plea.
"Alright!"
From the distance, a server wearing a black suit approached, wielding dozens of arms, each stacked with plates and bottles.
"Here!" Uriel practically scread, false tears streaming down his face as he laid eyes on his savior.
"Yeah, I got the continental set with the—"
...
After a few more rounds, the server delivered everything they’d ordered. Without waiting another second, Uriel finally began to eat, forgetting entirely about the previous interactions.
"..."
He lost himself.
As soone who grew up in a secluded church, under a strict diet and harsher regi, he’d never really eaten anything beyond porridge and the occasional bean stew.
He and the other children of the church often salivated as they read about food, about delicacies and feasts, in the massive library they visited every day.
It only got worse after his imprisonnt, when they fed him through a line: nothing but nutrients and sludge, dripped directly into his stomach.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he hadn’t tasted anything in three years, nor eaten anything truly savory in his entire life.
He thought he was hungry. But he was famished.
Each bite brought an avalanche of flavors he’d never known, foreign, overwhelming, wondrous, followed by eruptions of aether in his belly, greedily devoured by his core and pushed through his thin, weakened body.
He didn’t realize when tears began to fall, weak sobs slipping between frantic bites, his spine shuddering with every swallow.
His Spark roared to life.
With each mouthful, it recovered, like a parched desert finally kissed by rain.
Across from him, Persephone ate as well, sharing from Uriel’s spread. She cast him a brief sideways glance, a quiet pang of sympathy tugging at her heart.
But she said nothing. Her movents were elegant and composed, though hurried, betraying the hunger she, too, felt.
Enoch reacted less visibly. He was just as hungry, finally tasting aether-rich food after nearly twenty years on their desolate planet.
His Spark stirred as well, his erald pupils darkening as his already dark brown hair deepened, inching closer to jet black.
The three of them ate in silence, emotions churning beneath the surface, unreadable.
Surprisingly, it was Uriel who broke it.
He paused, setting his cutlery down and wiping his mouth clean before placing the handkerchief aside. Then he turned to Persephone.
"So," he said, his voice quieter, stripped of its usual liveliness, "what is it?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers