Asheva: A Summoner’s Tale – [Book-2 Complete]

Chapter-45 Commotion



Dekoth.

Frost sauntered out of the soul vortex and stood beside Ewan on the chimney. His legs and tail trembled but he didn’t scream. His small figure stared at the blue skies, Ice-Anima surging around. He clenched his fist, and his lust for battle peaked.

Ewan smiled at his progress, rubbed his head, and stroked his horn bumps. “Good boy,” he said, and a vibration from his claw-ring distracted him. He frowned—it was the hub-connector.

He grabbed Frost with his Ryvia and floated down to the balcony, lying on the recliner. Frost stood by his side as a guard while he connected to the hub.

….

Hub-Stratum.

Ruckus from the market reverberated in his shop. The gathered crowd crammed the streets, their garbled chatters and screams resonating. Ewan also went out. A red hue had smeared the white streetlights today, and the paved streetways looked bloody. Ewan looked up at the source of this all; it was the huge crimson words hanging in the air, blood-red light oozing from it.

‘Countdown: 100 Years!’ it read.

“What’s this? What’s happening?” Ewan asked the same-sized spirit blob beside him.

“Fuck!” the spirit blob yelled. “No, look on the bright side, I’ll have a better chance if I survive it,” he murmured.

“I thought we had more time,” another spirit blob said, triple the size of Ewan’s.

“What is going on? What is that?” Some spirit blob asked, but no one answered.

“It was true…it was true…,” someone else muttered.

Ewan looked around at the mixed horde of spirit blobs; some asked around like him, looking lost, while some trembled and mumbled. He would never get any answers from them, so he went inside the shop and opened the information screen.
He had a notification; the seller had updated the information about ‘Obria’. But he ignored it for now and checked whether there was anything on the current situation—there was none. He frowned and checked the announcement screen. It had the same wine-red words displayed on top; ‘Endorsed by Ashevagord’ stamped on its side with their infamous ‘8’ insignia that represented the ‘Endless Helix’. The details came up once he touched it, it was for free too.

“Countdown has started: Airadia will become a Tier-3 Plane in a hundred years. Early preparation for the change advised.”

…..

Ewan opened his eyes on the recliner and stared at the still visible but faint outline of the moons. Rumor said the number of moons represented the level of a plane. If the announcement was authentic and the rumor was valid, then there would be another moon a hundred years later. But what was the ‘early preparation’ about? And the way some spirit blobs talked; their words sounded ominous.

This was a big event, enough to terrify so many powerful spirit blobs and have the ‘Ashevagord’ announce it in that manner. And ‘Tier-3’ indicated it had happened before, so it should be in his journal.

Ewan took it out from the claw-ring and flipped to the parts he had only skimmed. Indeed, many of his ancestors had mentioned this, they all warned their next generation about the destruction it caused. The extreme cataclysmic seasons during the advancement could exterminate most of the plane’s population, including Ashevas. The plane would flourish afterwards but not before the wave of cranage drowned it.

Hundred years…

An event that would happen a century later, it was an unfamiliar and unknown concept for Ewan. He chased after eternity but couldn’t understand what it meant yet. Still, the severity of the situation was clear. Hundred years, he only had as much time to prepare for the disaster. But would reaching Step-1 be enough to survive? What about Step-2? The journal didn’t answer him, he was on his own with this one. And it would be conjectures anyway, who could ever guarantee someone’s life.

Let’s take it step by step…

He would go as far as he could and prepare as much as he could. If he still died, then that would be it, that was all he was capable of. His death would be worth it; after all, he walked the path of his dreams.

…..

A sumptuous brunch later, stewed vegetables with bread and bland milk, Ewan revisited the hub—the notification remained on his mind and nagged him. The commotion outside had half died, but the bloody words still hung in the air, painting the hub in a gloomy hue.

Plethora of sellers crammed the information screen with their version of data about the recent announcements. Ewan could sell his too, but he wasn’t willing to diverge information from his journal. He also used his Pa’s identity here, that of Ulrath. Reckless display of that name without proper background knowledge might attract unwanted attention. If any of his Pa’s old enemies came to him… It was better to run the shop and earn through it, he would remain anonymous that way.

And so, he ignored it all and opened the updated information about Obria. Twelve Novas, the new price reflected the size and the value of the new content. He took a deep breath; this report would finalize his decision on whether to stay or leave the colony. His Pa’s memories and his childhood house kept him here, this was his home, but he would never put emotions before his life. If it was necessary, he would rather become a wandering Severynth outside the walls than remain inside and muddle in the chaos.


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