Poisonous Fox

Lucky Break (3/9) (+1)

It was always disconcerting when I awoke to the burning itch traveling up my right arm. Something had advanced, and I was uncertain why. Attempting to take stock of my arm, I found my vision still blurry from sleep. Dreary, weary, and in dire need of strong stimulants. I could figure out the whims of these Marks later.

No, I thought. I would not be so weak. I refused. I willed myself awake, sitting up. Why did everything ache?

The world swayed, a pendulum oscillating between reality and the murky depths of fatigue as I forced my eyes open. The dawn cast long, jagged shadows across the room, mimicking the throes of my disoriented senses. My limbs felt leaden, my stomach a cavernous pit gnawing from within—hunger, raw and insatiable, clawed at me with a ferocity that bordered on pain.

A pleasant voice reminded me that I was not alone, like most mornings.

"Jackie," Mari-Anne's voice pierced through the haze, "you look like you've been dragged backwards through hell's foundry." She usually took care of her morning necessities before checking in on me. It was thoughtful of her, I appreciated it, but I was still unsure of just why she was so friendly. A part of me suspected ulterior motives.

It was as I considered this that I attempted to rise, but the room careened alarmingly, and I caught myself on the bed-post.

"Perhaps you should consider—" I heard the hesitation in Mari-Anne's suggestion, her words trailing into silence before she continued, "...maybe cutting back on your hours?" The very way she finished that sentence gave a feeling of sacrilege, at least from the tone of her voice.

"What? Why?" My voice was slightly slurred from waking up.

"I feel fine." I finished, only to be betrayed by a stagger that sent me lurching towards the floor. My false-arm whipped out and caught the wooden post before I fell further, leading to an awkward stumble.

Marianne arched an eyebrow, her eyes full of concern. "You're not getting enough sleep, and your duties and training are physically taxing you." She crossed her arms and might have pouted, in a cross sort of way.

I refrained from responding as I stabilized myself and began to stretch out stiff and sore muscles.

"Stop ignoring me! This cannot be sustained!" Marianne protested. "In the past week, how much rest have you gotten? The count of hours."

I narrowed my eyes as I thought it through. I stayed up late each night, keeping watch well after midnight, sometimes until the very early morning. I usually woke up in the still early morning. Sometimes I was fortunate enough to catch a nap between training and my tavern shift. But all together, sleep was lacking.

"Probably less than ten!" Marianne continued. "How are you still functioning? What's keeping you from rolling off the roof while you stand watch? It--this is--gah!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "Just tell me why?!"

I grimaced and shrugged. She had a point. But… "What's the alternative?” I asked. We both already knew this. “Quitting?" And besides, why would she care? She lived her life, and I lived mine.

Marianne winced and shuddered. "Of course not. But we can talk to Esmerelda. She's reasonable. At the very least, we can get you out of training." Of course. Of course, we could talk to Esmerelda. That was always Marianne’s solution. If I had more energy, I might have rolled my eyes.

Ignoring the instability of her suggestion, I instead pointed out, "The training is meant to help me, make me stronger." It would help further my goals, momentary pain was the investment.

"None of that will make a difference if you- burn- out-!"

"Maybe so," I admitted, my voice a raspy whisper betraying my weakened state. "But right now, I really don't need to be hearing this.” I took several breaths to get my thoughts in order, and then decided to avoid riling up Marianne more than necessary.

“Have you had breakfast yet?" I asked, changing the subject.

Marianne huffed, then the corner of her lips curled up. "Wanna head down then?"

"Yes please."

Breakfast turned out to be less than fulfilling. The stores of meat were continuing to run low, and my debt to Cook was growing. My portions were small, and my stomach was left grumbling after the scant few mouthfuls of bloody goodness. I was sitting at our usual table, in the backmost corner of the tavern. We had yet to open yet, and this was one of the few parts of the day that I could relax. It would have been perfect, if the thin section of meat were a bit larger. Or if I could stomach the sludge they called porridge.

"Maybe you should try something else to eat besides meat?" Marianne asked, helpfully. “Just to supplement it!” She hurried, after seeing my expression sour.

I shook my head. "I can't stand much of anything else," I explained. And that was the unfortunate truth.

"Do you think it’s a matter of seasoning?" Marianne asked. "Because… you might not be able to afford being such a picky eater."

I scoffed in disgust and tried to explain my newfound dietary requirements. "I’ve tried breads, fruits, veggies, even cream. None of it does more than give me a stomach ache, and I still feel hungry afterwards. The only thing I’ve found that even helps is meat."

Which was bizarre. And Marianne had commented on that previous. But she figured it was due to my Marks, or Deviation. So, instead of commenting further on my oddities, she just rolled her eyes and muttered, “Picky eater…”

I grumbled, but had not much else I could say to that.

Smog filled the air and dulled the sounds of industry. I headed down the main thoroughfare, traveling down Blossom Hill. I was by myself. Esmerelda had other duties to attend to today, which meant I had been finally trusted on my own. Briefly, I thought of skipping my training session and beginning my search for Emboru's sibling.

That temptation was only flitting, however. There was little chance anything productive would come from such an impulsive diversion, and I had other commitments besides. I was certain Esmerelda would learn of it if I skipped the training yard, and I would hate to sour that well.

However, as I thought that, tendrils from my false-arm twitched around my guts.

My false-arm, a likely infested parasite, had given me a reminder. Either that, or the twitch just happened to coincide with a thought of Emboru’s mission, and my possible putting off of searching for her. Just in case the false-arm could read my thoughts, I tried thinking towards it, it is faster this way! More reliable! However, if the false-arm perceived these thoughts, it refused to let me know.

Other than my stray thoughts, and some of my nervousness, travel was uneventful. I passed the checkpoint at the bottom of Blossom’s Hill without problems. I failed to recognize any of the baron's men, and they failed to recognize me. I passed into the Merc Quarter without drama, though I kept my hand firmly on the handle to my battle-ribbon. In close quarters, I could still use it as a mace, or a blackjack. After all this time, it had become a source of comfort.

Strange, that.

I finally reached the training yard.

Phillip Blackrest, instructor, stood as an island amidst several trainees, his attention drifting like flotsam on the tide. His eyes, once sharp as the edge of a blade when Esmerelda came along with me, now held the luster of tarnished silver—dulled and disinterested.

"Instructor Blackrest," I said, “What should I do today?” I asked.

"Attend to your own growth, Jackie," he replied without looking my way. "My focus lies elsewhere."

"Indeed, it seems so," I retorted, the sting of his neglect pricking at my pride. I had known that he was only humoring Esmerelda by training me, and now that she was absent, his attention had plummeted. Which might not have been a bad thing, overall. But still, it stung my pride.

Turning away from the man, I wrapped my fingers around the familiar leather grip of my battle-ribbon, and I began stepping through the basic forms.

The trick to the ribbon was foresight. Given its nature, it never thrusted, and only dragged. Some ribbons were closer to blades, such as urumi, but I would be hesitant of ever touching something as dangerous to myself as that. The ribbon, however, was relatively safe–at least to the user. I would practice dancing forward, laying down the fluttering ribbon, before pulling back and snapping it through where an enemy or object could have been. Some steps, on the inward timing, I would slash with the blackjack like hilt, to add some additional potency to the mix.

Overall, I would say I was improving. And the exercises were meditative. I was at it for some time, losing myself, before I saw her coming over from where she had been running the gauntlet.

Sir Kate Guardson glanced my way, gave a boyish smile, then strode over. Her cyan eyes, sharp as the edge of her blade, were upon me, igniting all manner of uncomfortable emotions. Despite those emotions, I could hardly call Kate detrimental to my plans. In fact, with her knowledge, contacts, and skill, I would even consider her a boon. I just had to forget… some unpleasant shared experiences. Nothing I was unused to.

"Kate," I called out to greet her, taking the initiative in the discussion. "A spar? Perhaps it might hasten the growth of my Marks."

She flashed a grin, fierce and brimming with confidence. "A fine suggestion, Jackie. I would relish the chance to gauge your progress… personally." She finished with a lascivious smirk that left me squirming. Rather than banter and encourage such behavior, I squared off with her in the sparring circle.

The weight of the ribbon in my hand was a comfort, yet as she unsheathed her blunted sword, the glint of practiced lethality in her grip reminded me of the chasm between our skills. The sword would still sting, and potentially break bones, if I was careless. The added risk increased the efficacy of training, or so I had been told.

Rather than calling out a warning, Kate lunged forward, a blur of motion that belied her stocky build. I barely deflected the first strike with my hilt, the wooden grip absorbing and deflecting the force.

"Your stance is too rigid, Jackie," she called out, dancing back and circling me as though I were prey. “Especially for ribbon fighters. Need to be fluid. Noble. Like so–!”

She brought her hand and a half sword down in a diagonal chop, too far to strike, but then she reversed it and floated towards me.

I feinted left, only to be met with a swift counter that sent me stumbling. I managed to leave a trailing of ribbon behind me. It was floating in the air below her sword arm. I snapped it high than low, hoping to ensare her.

She twisted out of reach, escaping the trap. "Predictable," she taunted, making her evasion appear effortless.

I felt the heat rise within me—a fusion of frustration and admiration. She was a force of nature, her movements painting a portrait of dominance. And while my limbs flailed in an effort to match her grace, my heart thrummed with the desire to rise to her level. I was weaving patterns with my ribbon that were part spell, part plea. Each clash, each near miss, was a lesson etched upon my spirit. The world narrowed to the space between us, where power and control danced their deadly waltz. Everything blurred together.

She came down in another chop while I laid another trap. Somehow, I found myself pivoting and bending, dodging, even though she had come from an awkward angle. A familiar burn rose up on my right arm. Fortunately, I avoided the distraction. As she missed, she attempted to follow up with a deep lunge. I tossed my ribbon to my other hand and snapped it, creating a loop around her cross-guard. She fell back more slowly than before, but the force she applied caused my battle ribbon to tear from my grip and clatter to the ground.

Impending Sense (2/9) (+1)

"Better," Kate acknowledged. “But if you’re gonna play with your grips like that, make sure you keep everything controlled. I shouldn’t have been able to counter your snare so easily.”

I nodded, a slight smile forming on my lips. “I was so close!” I said, excited. This was the first time I had come so near defeating her. “Again!” I demanded.

And so we continued, the dance of ribbon and blade, until noon approached. Despite the fatigue clawing at my muscles, something primal within me stirred—a feral instinct that sharpened my focus until the world beyond our blades faded into obscurity.

"You’re looking hungry,” Kate remarked. While she was breathing heavily, and sweating, she still remained in good spirits and full of vim.

She was trying to distract me with her words, I was certain. I ignored her mouth and I feinted left, but just a little too slowly. As she sidestepped, I twisted, a sinuous motion. She jumped back, yanking her sword off course and backwards. My ribbon just barely grazed her tip before she got free. Had I been a moment quicker, I might have disarmed her.

"Weak," she said with the ghost of a smile.

"Weak?" I retorted between heaving breaths. "Then, why, Sir Guardson, do I see sweat rolling off your brow?"

"Because," Kate replied with finality. She never did give a reason. Likely it was due to the exertion in the gauntlet previous to sparring me. In hindsight, her endurance truly was remarkable.

Each clash of our weapons wove a deeper understanding within me. I began to see the pattern of her steps, the subtle tells that preceded each strike. They were the whispers of intention, and for the first time since we crossed blades, I found myself not just reacting but anticipating.

"Sharper now, aren't you?" She lunged, a thrust meant to end lesser duels, but I parried with a deftness that felt foreign yet exhilarating. "Yes, much sharper."

"Too… much… talking…”

"Ha. Keep reaching, Jackie," she challenged, her form a blur of disciplined motion, never giving ground even as I pressed harder. There was an artistry to her combat, a relentless grace that made her seem untouchable.

Our dance became more frenetic, a cacophony of metal and ambition. With every move I mirrored, every strike I narrowly avoided, I felt the knot of respect for her tighten in my chest.

"Is that all you've got?" she teased, though her breathing had quickened, a symphony to match my own labored exhalations.

"Maybe," I gasped. My body was weakening, in direct opposition to my desires. Our sparring was more than a mere exchange of blows; it was a crucible in which the alloy of our spirits was being tested and tempered.

Athleticism (8/9) (+1)

She lunged forward suddenly. I whipped my ribbon upwards, my trap prematurely sprung. Her sword swept it aside, carrying it out of position. But her body entered immediate range. Then, her face was before mine, and her damp lips clumsily crashed into mine, her nose smearing my cheek, before she jumped backwards.

I fell backwards on my rear, wiping my lips off with the back of my arm.

"Come now," she said, smiling as she looked down at me. "You’re overreacting. You can't claim you didn't enjoy that."

I glared at her. I had strong feelings on the matter, but none of those feelings agreed. So I settled for a confused glare.

"Would you like to continue?" she asked, smirking. Droplets of sweat pressed wisps of hair against her forehead. "I'm sure the second kiss will be better."

I growled, my hackles up, before I shook myself. "No," I said. "I think I'm done for the day."

My stomach chose that second to growl audibly. I truly was famished.

"Lunch then?" Kate asked, grinning at my stomach. "What do you like?"

"Don’t you need permission to leave early?" I asked, already ignoring the stolen kiss.

She glanced towards Phillip Blackrest, who was focused on his batch of recruits.

"Not if we're fast enough," she said, grinning. She sheathed her practice blade and slung an arm over my shoulder, guiding me out of the training yard.

We were just losing ourselves into the crowd, when I heard Phillip bellow, "Kate!"

Kate hastened her steps, and we soon lost ourselves in the crowd.

"So, what're you in the mood for?" she asked.

"Meat," I said plainly, almost desperately. “Red. Please.”

Kate gave me a side-eye, then a smile. "My kinda girl! I just so happen to know a place... though it's a bit of a walk."

"Not too far, I hope?" I said. My legs were unsteady as it was, and i still had to walk back up Blossom Hill.

"Yeah… nope!” Kate said with cheer. “Maybe ten or fifteen minutes? Nothing too terrible."

That was a bit further than I wanted to travel, especially when there was a vendor in the Mercenary Quarter itself, less than a handful of minutes away. I could soon be consuming a shish-kabob of meohr meat, and I saw no real reason to add to that delay. Besides, any time I spent walking away from the Quarter would need to be spent returning, as Blossom Hill connected here.

Seeing the refusal on my face, Kate hurriedly added, "Besides! We can use that time to get to know each other a bit more!"

I gave her some side eye, from where she towered above me, at least a head taller than I was. Her arm felt heavy and hot as it draped over me.

"That's not a mark in your plan's favor," I said dryly.

"What, would you rather go somewhere private instead?" she said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Ugh. No."

She barked a laugh. "Like I thought! But, if you go with me, it’s my treat!”

I was a bit light on Chargers, as most of my pay was going to Room and Board. I finally agreed to Kate’s request.

She continued her plot to get to know me better. “Now, tell me. Are you actually going to the Academy this season?" She asked.

The question came somewhat out of left field, but I knew it was on her mind, as it was on the mind of most of the kids enrolled. I had heard Marianne mention it more than once or twice as well.

"Ma'Ritz will sponsor me," I answered slowly and carefully, unsure of what Kate was after in this instance. Would she respond with jealousy? Or would she come with a different angle?

Rather than that, she simply nodded, albeit slowly, as she continued to guide us along the walkways. We were leaving the Mercenary Quarter, and heading along one of the several main arterials.

"I don't mean to be indelicate,” Kate said awkwardly, “But will they pay tuition as well?"

"Hm?" I asked, confused at the difference. They were sponsoring my education at the Academy, which would open all sorts of doors for me. My false-arm started to twitch, so I mentally added, to find Emboru’s sibling! The twitches stopped.

"Tuition is incredibly expensive," Kate added. "Usually, sponsorship comes with a scholarship. Well no. Usually, the parents sending their kids there take care of everything like that. Your situation is a bit different."

I wanted to pause then and there, but Kate pressured me forward, so that either I had to step, or fall face first onto the cobblestones. Other than missing that first step, I continued with her.

"I'm sure they have it covered," I said, speaking with a false confidence. In truth, I knew that Marianne worried about her income, and I wondered if this might have been why. But now I was curious just how far Room and Board went, and if I really did need to see a written contract. I shook my head, attempting to justify my own actions to myself. "Otherwise, why bother sponsoring somebody at all?"

"Eh,” Kate shrugged, continuing to pull me along. “You'd be surprised at some of the underhanded tactics people pull. My aunt used to tell me some crazy stories…"

~

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism (8/9) (+1):

Climbing I (4/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Stealth I (7/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (5/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver I (1/9)

Evasion I (1/9)

Impending Sense (2/9) (+1)

Lucky Break (3/9) (+1)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (5/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)

~

I narrowly raised my guard in time to divert Kate's thrust. She was using one of the metal blunt blades again in our spar, and as always, I was terrified of the metal swinging by. Only my ribbon, the handle of my ribbon, and my athletics allowed me to avoid massive bruises. My false arm twitched at that thought, reminding me that I also had that as an option, though unreliable tools were difficult to count as part of my kit.

Our spars had become something of a daily event, each morning as part of my training. Esmerelda no longer accompanied me to the yard, and she entrusted me to further my own skills. Which of course I did. I doubted I could find a better source of information than here–where the high and low guards came to train.

"Focus!" Kate's voice cut through the cacophony of the training grounds and partially into Mercenary Quarter beyond.

I pulled myself back from my thoughts and managed enough to quip.

"Always am," I grunted back, but the words are less confident than I wish.

Kate, her cyan eyes fierce as winter skies, moved beside me with a blademaster's grace, her stocky form an avalanche of precision and power.

"Your turn," she said, laughing.

It was then that Instructor Phillip Blackrest finally paid attention to us. Or at least, he paid attention to Kate. As Esmerelda was not in attendance, he spent little attention upon me, which I was thankful for.

He was scowling as he stormed over.

"Oi!” he shouted, thrusting a gauntleted finger towards Kate. “Yer supposed ta be running the gauntlet!" He reprimanded her. “Not–” he waved his hands futility between Kate and I “-whatever this is!” Spittle flew from his mouth.

"Whaa?" Kate said, mouth hanging open, before shaking and correcting herself. "I mean, I already did! Run it, that is. And this is me just brushing up on some--"

"Save it!" Phillip cut her off. "If yer gonna get distracted playin' with yer little girlfriend, then both of ya get yer asses in the gauntlet!"

"But–" Kate started to protest.

"Now!" Phillip shouted, listening to none of her excuses.

Until finally, Kate could do naught but hang her head and groan, "...fine.” Though as soon as Phillip turned back to his other trainees, Kate grabbed my elbow and dragged me towards the gauntlet.

“I…” I trailed off, unsure of how I wanted to play this. I had seen the gauntlet before. It looked painful, and rather dangerous. While running it might improve my abilities, I thought there might be safer ways to grow, and ways that I could grow without being seen by everyone else in the very open and exposed training yard. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I finally settled on.

"It'll be fine," Kate said, brushing off my very valid concerns. "I'll show you the ropes. It’ll be good for you. Trust me…"

I wiped the grimace off my face before she saw it. Instead, I stammered, "I'd really rather not."

Kate scrunched her nose and almost pouted, in an aggressive sort of way. "You'd leave me by myself?" Kate asked.

I glanced towards the gauntlet she was dragging me towards: the blunted spike trap, the rolling greased balance beams, and the rotating gears that swung blunted instruments into the path.

"Yes…” I said, nodding once firmly. “Yes I would."

Kate groaned, perhaps realizing that I was serious. "But why... ?" She asked.

I gave her a deadpan stare. I had declined, and Kate ought to respect me enough to leave it at that. But then again, I did want to improve relations with her to perhaps further my own agenda, and perhaps for other less rational reasons.

"Look,” Kate said. “It looks scary, yeah, but it's not all bad. You ever wonder how I perform so much better than you? Why I’m so much fitter? Better endurance?" She flexed her biceps and pushed it towards me, as though she wanted me to touch. I declined doing so.

Instead, I answered the reason I thought she was so much further along when it came to our spars.

"Your Marks?" I said.

"Well, yeah…” Kate said, frowning. “But I meant something else…"

"You meant your years of practice?" I asked, knowingly missing her intent now.

She tilted her head, confusion writ across her face.

"Uh, hey yeah,” she said, stumbling over her words. “But what I really meant was something else."

"How about your–" I started again with another wrong guess, but Kate must have seen something in my face as she cut me off in good humor.

"Gods take your tongue!" Kate laughed while swearing and exasperated, all the same time. "Endurance! Endurance and dexterity training. Which you sorely need. A few minutes into a spar and you’re gasping and wheezing for breath."

"That is true…” I trailed off, recognizing that she was accurate. Training on the gauntlet likely would do wonders for my own progress. Though its clunking gears and greased balance roll bars left me very ill at ease.

"So, this will help!" she waved at the gauntlet, and gave me her rueful smile. "So c'mon!"

“It will help,” I finally conceded, before muttering, “If it doesn’t kill me.”

She ignored my quip and continued dragging me to the start of the gauntlet. She gave me no opportunity to really resist, though I was sure I could have escaped, had I truly wished to.

And she did have a point, I justified to myself.

The starting point of the gauntlet was a sandbox littered with irregular boulders and cabling stretching above at a mismatched agglomeration of angles. Beyond that, was a thirteen foot wooden wall, with the added challenge of a rotating arm that swept down the wall over and over again. Beyond that was a rotating balance bar, which was below mechanized things that went in and out, creating a dynamic hazard over the bar. And beyond that, was a pit with vertical wooden poles, which were meant to be run across. Then, after that, the gauntlet started once more, allowing practitioners to run lap after lap without resting.

As I took the torture machine in, feeling my ears ache to quiver from the noise, and the vibrations running up my feet, Kate turned her brightest smile my way.

"So, ready?" Kate asked.

I gulped and shook my head, though Kate must not have seen that. Because, then with great exuberance and excitement, she declared loudly: "Go!"

She took off like a shot, hopping from stone to stone, diving below the cabling, or twisting above it as she went. In seconds, she had arrived at the wall, where she bounced against the wood and began to scale, using the mechanized obstacle to further boost herself up. Once she got to the top, she stood atop the thin wall and turned to look back down at me, where I had yet to start. All of that had taken Kate less than ten seconds.

"You haven’t started?’ she called back, staring me down. “What’s the matter, scared?" she said, smirking, teasingly. "It's not that bad, you know…” she added. “Just take it slow at first. I won't judge if you take forever... at least, I won’t judge that much." She grinned broadly.

I scoffed in irritation. I would show her, I decided.

I launched myself forward, left foot landing on a stone, propelling me forward. I stepped over the first cable, touched down with my right foot on the next stone, before letting the momentum carry me forward. The boulder slid with me though, killing my launch. I was unable to clear the next set of cabling. I twisted as much as I could, and I narrowly missed the cable, but my legs were out of position and I touched down in the sand, hitting my side against another stone. I groaned in pain. That was going to leave a bruise.

"Jackie?" Kate asked, somewhat concerned, though she had yet to leave her perch atop the wall.

All on my own, to maintain my own dignity, I propped myself up and spat out the few grains of sand that had invaded my mouth.

“I’m fine,” I grunted.

Once she saw I was not bleeding from my eyes, she laughed.

"Nice first try,” she said, chortling. “Really."

I made a disgusted sound, and finished stomping over to the wall.

"You better keep moving," I said, scowling. “I’ll be catching up in no time.”

Then, without thinking better of it, without considering the fact that I really should probably not show off my most useful ability to the city’s equivalent of a police-force, without any of that, I began to scurry up the wall. I might have been showboating a bit to sooth my pride, because climbing, at least, was one area I could beat Kate.

As I flew up the wall, her eyes widened. She must have realized my claims of catching up were not idle boasting, as she leapt off the otherside out of sight.

A painful ten minutes later, I had finished my first lap. I was bruised, out of breath, and everything ached. But when I found Kate grinning at me, taunting me, I found a well of previously untapped determination. And I had to admit… I could feel the progress.

"Another lap?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes and grinned, "If you think you're up for it."

The next lap took closer to fifteen minutes. When I cleared it, my legs and arms were trembling. Despite hurrying the best I could, I could not keep up with Kate. She was already waiting for me at the finish, grinning, hardly looking the worse for wear. I tried consoling myself, that she had been running this course for years, and that I was just now starting... but when I saw her all but laughing at my lackluster performance, something inside me burned.

"Again," I hissed, almost too weary to articulate.

"Uh, you sure?" Kate said, her grin slipping momentarily in concern.

That time, I started my lap ahead of her, leaving her behind, but she quickly overtook me.

I finished the next lap in less time than before, closer to eight minutes, but still not faster than Kate. I thought she might have been humoring me, and it was quite frustrating, though I was starting to get the hang of the course. I was still wheezing as I finished, but I felt elation that I had only fallen a single time. If I continued improving, I would soon be able to catch up with Kate. Then overtake her. Then grind her smug face into the ground. Or perhaps, grind her smug face into something else.

"I... I think we might be done?" Kate asked as I jogged past her, starting the course once again. "Or not..." she added to my back. I would not wait for her. I needed every advantage.

Despite that, she caught up to me at the top of the wall.

"I think you might be overdoing it," Kate cautioned.

Of course she would say that! But I was on the cusp of something, I could feel it! In my shaking and weakening limbs, I felt it! It was so close, I just had to push through.

When Kate attempted to grab my shoulder to halt my progress, I snarled and fell forward, landing on all fours on the balance beam, already prowling forward like a beast.

"Jackie!" Kate called, dropping down and landing behind me. "You're acting feral! Just... we can take a break, yeah? You're doing great! You really really are. Most recruits can't even finish on their first attempt..."

Words. Just words. And ones I cared not for.

I ignored her and kept moving. My vision began to shimmer, the edges of reality blurring like a painting left in the rain.

"Stubborn," Kate muttered under her breath. Of course, she failed to understand. She did not feel the tingling in my limbs. She could not feel it!

I pushed on, ignoring the leaden weight of my limbs. My false arm’s tendrils scratched at my guts, and I felt a moment’s distraction. Why was my false-arm acting out?

"Watch your left!" Kate shouted a warning.

I pivoted just in time to avoid a mechanized sand filled bag that came barreling from the side. I

dodged it, or thought I did. But the world around me twisted, and I found myself looking upwards, confused.

I was... on the ground?

Athleticism (9/9) (+1) -> Athleticism I (1/9)

Unlocked: Gymnastics (1/9)

It took a few seconds of everything spinning for me to decide that I was certainly on the ground. I heard a few barks of laughter from nearby, sounding like the trainees. I would have blushed was I not so exhausted. Overhead, above me, Kate's face gazed down. She crouched, concern dominating her face.

"Kate...?" I said, almost moaned up towards her.

"I'm here," she said quietly, helping to drag me off the course to the softer sand. She held my head on her lap.

A few more barks of laughter came from nearby, until Kate scowled off to the side and shouted, "Damn you all! Cut that racket out!" she roared, not realizing she had shouted almost directly into my ear. I winced, but she failed to notice.

A few other calls went out from the trainees, laughing at the waif of a girl that though she was tough. They seemed immune to Kate’s glare and her boisterous warning. However, a moment later, their laughter ended as Phillip shouted at them to cease their slacking.

Meanwhile, Kate began rubbing her calloused fingers through my hair, lifting it off my sweaty face.

"You pushed too hard," she said, helping me to sit up further. I leaned back against her stomach now. "Just relax a bit, then you'll be as good as new. Had me scared there for a second."

My right arm itched from where the Mark had expanded. Without looking, I knew it had been a big one. I was tempted to look right then and there, but with people still watching me, I refused the temptation.

A few moments into my recovery, Phillip Blackrest finally arrived. He loomed over both of us, his brows furrowed deeply. I could only imagine that he worried Esmerelda would cut him off if I had been seriously wounded, at least, that was what I thought he might have been worrying about. That, or he was wondering how best to chew out Kate for relaxing as I recovered. Instead, he surprised me.

He crouched down, looking me over and grabbing my wrist, feeling my pulse. He watched me breathe, his face uncomfortably close, and his breath stinking of onions. Finally, he pulled away and made his verdict.

“Girl’s fine. Just low Blood Sugar." As he said that, he began rummaging through his pockets until he retrieved a few suspicious small and colorful objects. Belatedly, I realized it to be a handful of some sort of candy, though sticky and coated with lint and pocket trimmings. He rolled my wrist around until my palm faced upwards, then he carefully dropped them into my hand, closing it around the candy.

"Here," he grumbled, "eat these."

I struggled to sit up, leaning heavily on Kate's shoulder, my body a foreign entity rebelling against my commands. My hand trembled as I examined the pathetic offering, dirty sweets that mock my plight. I popped one into my mouth out of sheer desperation, the sugary taste an affront to my palate. It dissolved quickly, leaving nothing but a ghost of sweetness and an echo of hunger.

It tasted foul. It left me gagging. I rolled off of Kate’s lap and onto my arms, dry-heaving.

Kate sat there in surprise, watching me confused, before her eyes snapped back to Phillip who was watching me in confusion.

"What'd you give her?!" Kate demanded.

"Uhh, just some hard candies..." Phillip said defensively. "Maybe mint flavored? I think?"

"Then why’s she practically vomiting?” Kate asked accusingly, though she had come down beside me, behind me, and pulled my hair behind my neck while rubbing my back. In my peripheral awareness, I knew I was making a scene, and I knew it was counterproductive to do so. But the candy tasted worse than fecal matter.

“Are… are you alright?” Kate asked me, murmuring quietly and in a way I was sure was supposed to be supportive. Phillip looked on in concern and confusion both.

“It was just candy, I swear,” Phillip muttered more to himself than to us. He scratched his scruff as though deep in thought.

Finally, I was able to get out a word.

“Tasted… awful…” I groaned.

“Well, that might not be yer favorite, princess…” Phillip scoffed. “But you needed somethin’ in yer belly. You skipped breakfast, I take it? Foolish, that.”

I groaned, “Don’t you have meat?” I added. “Or something else… that tastes less like… that?”

Kate barked a laugh, remembering our shared carnivorous diets.

"Is that all?" Kate asked. "Of course, she needs more than a child's treat to recover. Why do you even keep those in your pocket?” Kate said, needling Phillip in what was likely a poorly thought out attempt at humor. Kate continued, "Does it look like she's enjoying your pocket lint delicacies?"

Phillip scowled, before shaking his head and stomping off. “Don’t think I’ll forget this, Guardson,” he threatened, but then he started shouting at the other trainees, likely taking out his aggression there.

Kate and I watched him stomp off, before Kate found a satchel tied to the inside of her tunic. She pulled it out and opened it, before shifting through it. A waft of exotic spices tickled my nose, reminding me of Cook’s private selection.

“Here,” Kate said, handing me what might have been a thick strip of jerky. “Imported from down south. I thought you might have liked it so I picked it up. Give it a try, yeah?” She added, handing it to me.

The jerky, tough and demanding, yet imbued with a flavor that spoke of untamed wilds and freedom, ignited something within me. As I chewed, the rich infusion of protein began its work, knitting the frayed edges of my vitality back together. I thanked her profusely. Or I thought I did. I was a bit lost in the meal.

"Can't have you collapsing on me," Kate teased, though the undercurrent of sincerity could not be hidden. She said something else, though I failed to listen. It was just words, after all. Kate pulled something else from her pouch, and my eyes snapped to her, hoping for more jerky. Instead, I found her unscrewing a flask. She took a swig, before handing it to me. “Try it,” she said, nudging me, and absolutely indifferent to the fact that we were off to the side in the very open training yard, where we should have still been practicing.

“Go on….” she said, holding it closer to my face. “Is good…”

It smelled strong, but sweet and tangy, but not like citrus at all. It did smell appetizing. Against my better judgment, I took the flask and tossed it back. Just a swig, no more than an ounce.

The spirits burned as they went down. But in a good way. The aftertaste mellowed and left my mouth feeling clean and bubbly.

“Woah…” I said. “That is good.”

“Yep! Got it from the same place as the jerky. You like?”

I nodded, “Yes. Yes I do. You’ll have to show me where you got it.”

“Ehhh…” Kate trailed off, seeming uncertain.

“What? Not going to weasel it into a date?” I asked, smirking. Normally she would be jumping all over any opportunity to spend time with me.

“Of course I want to! But… it’s just…” she trailed off, glancing away, grimacing. “Well, I picked it up a few days ago. Remember that emergency down in the Merchant Quarter?”

I recalled everyone running off when an alarm was called, and Kate trying to drag me along with her to check it out. I also remembered Esmerelda stopping me from going off with her. I never really had figured out what that was all about.

“I remember. Why bring that up?”

“It’s when I picked it up. Same place. There was a southern merchant tried to pass unregistered stock through the city. They had a whole bunch of goods like the jerky and brandy, but that wasn’t what caused the issue."

"Unregistered stock," I echoed darkly, feeling the bite of old chains.

"Exactly. They weren’t secured properly, had no paperwork… so when the inspector came around to enforce city laws, the ill-trained beasts revolted. It was quite messy. Lots of people got caught up in it, and a lot of the merchant’s goods were confiscated. Not that they’ll be needing it any more…” she added darkly.

I shivered at the callous words. Unregistered stock. Stock. Slaves. My neck itched, and I swore I could feel the chill of metal sapping away my heat while I tried to rest.

Kate must have seen my discomfort, because she nudged my side. “Don’t worry. We caught all them and took care of it. It’s safe down there now, if you wanted me to show you where it happened?”

I grimaced and declined weakly. “Maybe… maybe some other time.”

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

Body: 65

Mind: 75

Spirit: 49

Talents:

Athleticism I (1/9) (+1):

Climbing I (4/9)

Featherlight I (3/9)

Inversion (2/9)

Gymnastics (1/9)

Stealth I (7/9)

Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

Area Coverage (5/9)

Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

Eschiver I (1/9)

Evasion I (1/9)

Impending Sense (2/9)

Lucky Break (3/9)

Spells:

Illusion I (5/9)

Touch (8/9)

Guise of the Kitsune (5/9)

Closed

Gifts:

Obsession (3/9)

Closed (0/9)

Closed (0/9)