Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

Chapter 348: Book 6-3.1: Danger is the Spice of Life


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Almost all at once, Yuriko dismissed the odd thought. Draw in ambient Chaos directly into her Anima? That was a shortcut to getting Chaos poisoning. The edges of the Anima were thick and prevented such things from happening in the first place. Well, she felt differently when she flared her Anima beyond her body, but she was the one who chose which to include inside and which to push away. It just so happened that ambient Chaos was something her Anima excluded naturally.

So if she drew it in, what would happen? Other than Chaos poisoning, of course.

But, that happened to her several times already and it all led to her gaining strength. Was that the answer to her conundrum? She needed to have a thousand lumens of Animus under her control. Pure Animus, she assumed, as the other kinds didn’t stay long. But Pure Animus in her Anima eventually tainted to become distilled Chaos, right? Or was she confusing things?

She did so many things out of instinct that she barely remembered how they got there. Forming her sunblade for an example. That came from her creating Animus blades, which were inspired by how she created an etching pen during the Elite trials for Sharom. She had been pushed by her need to have a weapon in the wilderness and she trained and trained until she could create an Animus blade anchored to her fingertips. Then, it took her more than a minute of focus to even shape it, but now?

With a flip of her wrist, Animus coagulated above her palm and shaped into a combat knife. She twisted the strands, the terminal points, and looped it upon itself, joining the edges such that they formed a whole cycle. She only learned how to do that after watching Fri’Avgi create a sunblade. The whole process took a couple of seconds, three at most, and she had a knife. She took longer to build a side-blade, by another couple of seconds, where it took minutes before.

Instinct.

She had honed the ability to shape Animus into weapons that she barely needed to pay much attention to the process. But because it was so easy, she never looked at how she shaped things anymore. She rarely observed the process, and then did things that she wasn’t sure how she knew to do. Like that loop thing? It made the construct self-sustaining, and she was sure she learned it from Fri’Avgi, but upon searching her memories, she couldn’t tell when she picked it up.

Before, her constructs could not exist outside of her Anima spread, but now, it could. It didn’t last long, just a few minutes really, but long enough to matter.

Instinct.

What did it tell her now? Open herself to Chaos? Let ambient Chaos into her Anima without processing it first in her core? What would happen? Only one way to find out.

She flared the entirety of her Anima. It stretched out to a full pace away from her. She could feel everything. The slight breeze that caused the motes of dust to dance. The fabric of the mattress, the pillows, and the wood of the bed frame. She could feel every stitching of her clothes. Forceweave underwear lined with runescript which allowed it to adjust to her size comfortably, to draw excess moisture away, and the toughness to resist being cut. Her outer clothing was of similar make, forceweave, but mixed in with other threads. Cotton threads. Some silk.

She could feel the ambient Chaos density in the air. One iarvesh. And with a single thought, she invited it in.

Ah. There was apparently a reason why ambient Chaos wasn’t supposed to be in the Anima. Swarm fodder.

The pain was immediate. Intense pain, as though every inch of her skin was on fire.

Worse!

Her Anima could feel everything within it, and had a bigger surface area, a bigger volume, than her own body! And every inch of it was aflame. Blood dripped down her chin from where her teeth bit into her lip.

Her skin and flesh were multitudes stronger than when she first Awakened her Atavism, but so was the force she could apply. Her tongue touched that lump of flesh that she bit off, but she barely paid it any mind.

Her Anima was filled with ambient Chaos and if she didn’t do anything, she would die. What should she do? The pain wasn’t so bad that she was incoherent…in fact…it was receding? Yes, it was.

The ambient Chaos motes in her Anima were slowly being nullified. But her Anima was cracking! Begone!

With a grunt, she forced her Anima to shunt the Chaos out. It billowed from her field as a puff of greenish gas. It dissolved back into the air, returning to the proper density.

“Oohh.”

She collapsed on the bed. Her clothes are damp with blood. Her skin had hundreds of micro-fractures, though only some were large enough to ooze blood. The Animus inside her ran Recovery, following the familiar and ever-widening channels. Her skin healed over in the blink of an eye, and even her torn lip, that had been starting to swell, stitched itself together.

What now?

Perhaps in lower doses? There were little islets of green ambient Chaos still within her flared Anima. However, Radiant energy gushed out of her body, her core, and sought out the motes. The Radiant burnt it. Or perhaps used it as fuel, since just a bit more Radiant was left after it was done. It returned to her core, though not before spreading out to the cracks in her Anima.

If anything, what she did proved a rather effective method of straining her Anima so that it could grow. Too bad that hadn’t been her goal at all.

She rolled off her bed and stalked to her bathroom. Her two attendants weren’t here so maybe she could finally bathe herself. The city estate’s bathroom was much smaller than her ensuite in Aerule Garden, that is to say, it was only the size of her house in Rumiga rather than a building.

She could still swim in the tub if she wanted to, and in fact, she had been taking lessons from Ryoko. The memory of nearly drowning in Kogasi reared its ugly head, but she beat it down. Swimming was as simple as not breathing in while her head was under the water, apparently.

She opened the faucets that jetted hot water into the tub, as well as another that dribbled scented oils. There were a dozen sub faucets here and other than the main water line, she didn’t know what the others would release. Ryoko and Saki did all of that before. But, well, the soothing scent of lavender tickled her nose while she shed her clothes.

She had just dipped her toes in the warm water when the bathroom door flew open, and Ryoko, with tears visibly dripping from the corner of her eyes, and Saki, who had her face screwed into a pout, marched in.

“Oh, young mistress! You wound us with your distrust!” Ryoko cried out piteously.

“Please, young mistress! Don’t throw us away!” Saki dropped to her knees and begged.

“Our duties! We must fulfil all of them!”

“Ehehehe,” Yuriko laughed sheepishly. “So…sorry.”

With that, both of her attendants swooped down on her then vigorously bathed her, spending far more time with her ticklish spots than before.

_______

“I believe the game is mine,” Finan said with no small amount of pleasure as he moved his Avos piece to corner Yuriko’s Empress. She glared down at the board, and at the varied pieces that had slowly created a trap that she didn’t even notice until he sprung it.

“Yes,” Yuriko grumbled as she tipped her Empress over. “You win.”

“Ah, well, it was a wonderful game. Close.”

“It was.” Yuriko sighed. Her own gambit had only needed a couple of moves to give her the game too.

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“Another?”

She’d love another game, honestly, but it was close to the hour that she needed to go to Acadia Arena to assist in a Martial Sciences class. Ah, maybe there was time for a quick one?

She was about to ask when a gaggle of girls walked into sight and squealed over Finan. The green-haired young man was surprisingly popular, and the few times Yuriko saw him from afar, he was usually in the centre of a crowd.

Finan turned in his seat to politely greet them. From the subtle tightening of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes, Yuriko could tell that he was somewhat irritated. Learning to read his facial expression had been a necessity since he was quite adept at making feints with it while they played.

“Ah, I have to go,” Yuriko said as she stood up.

Finan turned back to her with a smile and said, “Of course, Yuriko. Have a pleasant class.”

She shrugged. “I suppose. Teaching is…hmm, bothersome, but also somewhat pleasant.”

“I see. Ladies, if you will excuse me for a moment, I would like to speak with Miss Mishala in private,” he said to the girls, though he emphasised Yuriko’s clan name, which made the others flinch and back away.

Finan then bowed to her and gestured down the path. The Central Reserve had several groves that provided privacy. As soon as they were reasonably alone, Finan cleared his throat.

“Yes?” Yuriko prompted as he looked hesitant.

“Uhm, I enjoyed playing Shatran with you, Yuriko. I didn’t think you would spend this much time playing though.”

She smiled. “I enjoyed playing, and it’s a nice challenge.”

“I see. Well,” He swallowed, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you to a… well, a dance party. Aneurin’s year-end celebration, informally by the students, will be tomorrow night in Fontex Dome, and I’d love for you to be my escort.”

“A dance? This Sixthday?”

“Indeed.”

“Uh, I’m not really that fond of dancing,” Yuriko said. The last time was in a tavern back in Rumiga City where someone pinched her bottom. That had thoroughly ruined the evening for her, honestly.

“It’s not a formal event at all,” Finan said, well aware of what she didn’t like, courtesy of the idle chatter while playing. “And the food they’ll serve is from the best the Strip could offer!” He was also aware of her weakness for good food.

“Which restaurants in the Strip?” she asked warily.

His grin widened. “All of them, of course.”

All? Visions of food, roast beef slices swimming in gravy, skewers of lamb and onions, whole suckling pigs, glazed ham, and most importantly of all, tall glasses of parfaits, swam in her daydreams.

“You’re drooling,” Finan said dryly and Yuriko blushed.

“Ah. I suppose.” Yuriko swallowed. “Attire?”

“Cocktail. Semi-formal, really.” He said.

“Alright.”

“Great! Do you wish for me to pick you up from the Mishala city estate? Hour of Twilight?”

“Oh, sure, I don’t mind.”

Finan grinned and bowed over her hand.

As she turned to go, she caught a glimpse of those girls peeking around the curve. Nearly all of them had fury painted on their faces, though a couple looked at her and Finan thoughtfully.

Which was how, come Sixthday evening, she found herself dressed in a black dress that fell just above her knees and left her shoulders and arms bare. She had a blue diaphanous shawl and glossy black pumps with two-inch heels. She didn’t carry a purse, but she still had her safe pouch, though this one was strapped to her thigh. Since the contents were relatively flat, it didn’t disturb the contours of her dress.

Miya was in similar attire, though her dress was red and had a plunging neckline. She had a bit of rouge on her cheeks, too. Ryoko and Saki attempted to put cosmetics on Yuriko’s face but she firmly declined.

“You’re going with Finan Agalmar?” she asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“Sure, since he asked me,” Yuriko said casually.

“Would you go with anyone who asks?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm. I see. Well, enjoy the evening.”

An attendant walks in from the entrance gate. “Lords Agalmar and Jaegra for the young ladies.”

Miya smirked and the two of them left the mansion.

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