Chapter 10
My birthday came and went. I spent the day inside my house, terrified that the moment I took a step out, something would lie in wait to kill me.
To my surprise, there was no sudden explosion or a loud noise to indicate the expiration of the shield of spirituality my father left me. It happened seamlessly. One moment I felt normal, like the self I’ve gotten used to in the last hundreds of years. The next, I felt…bereft.
There is no other way to explain it since it’s not something tangible. My perception simply tells me I’m alone now. Helpless…
And I have to go to work tomorrow.
I let out a tired sigh. Since we measured our powers on that platform, somehow everyone knows that I ranked zero in every category. They did not outrightly laugh in my face, but I caught many amused, pitiful or downright mocking stares.
Now, with no protection, I can’t help but think of every little what-if. One shove alone could seriously hurt me.
Elysand, my supervisor has taken a particular interest in me, helping me with any questions I may have and guiding me along the way, for which I am very grateful, even though I know it also comes from a place of pity.
Thankfully, the workload has been manageable so far.
I have my own space within the building where daily, I sift through the SoT warriors and their stats.
I only have to check their official stats against a mystical map of the House of Memnon, where each SoT warrior is a blue dot depending on their location.
As I’ve been told, the real trouble begins when the blue dot turns into a red one.
Perhaps I should have chosen the Archives position…
But if I did, I wouldn’t have all this new information. I wouldn’t know about ways to advance other than slow, methodical cultivation.
Even if you know about mystical objects and the consumption of Tartareian souls, what can you do about it? My cynical voice asks.
In theory, not much. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it, to do better, to become…stronger. There is danger everywhere, and without father’s spiritual shield, I am extremely vulnerable.
I’ve learned that some of those mystical items are acquired through several means: inheritance, plunder and theft, or sale.
I have not inherited any, I have no capabilities for plunder and theft, so the only other option for me would be…find some for sale.
Elysand explained that those sales are not authorized, so they occur in secrecy. There are certain groups that deal in the sale and trade of such items.
Now I have two problems: find such a group and…
I take out my coin pouch and count my riches. We are paid weekly in the form of five slova coins and two trava, which means my salary so far amounts to ten slova coins and four trava.
Adding in the other twenty slova coins I still had from before, I have a total of thirty slova coins and four trava. Considering a thick winter coat cost me fifteen slova coins the other day, and my weekly spend for food is about two slova coins and one trava, my total wealth is…a joke.
I sigh and put the money back. I suppose I’ll have to keep working until I have more in savings.
As time goes by and I have to soon leave my house, I get more and more anxious. When the clock on my mantle strikes the time to leave, I’m almost shaking.
It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll be fine!
Mortals go around their day with innumerable dangers all around. Sometimes they get hurt, sometimes they can die. But they don’t let that stop them. They continue on with their lives despite the latent dangers everywhere.
If a mere mortal can do it, why can’t I?
I hug my thick coat around my body and open the door. Hesitantly, I step out. It is cold. A little colder from previous days. But as I walk out, nothing happens.
A few more steps, and I take a deep breath. I am fine.
With renewed vigor, I increase my pace and head to the Central Administration office.
Yet just as I think that I worried for nothing, just a short distance before getting to work, I notice that I’m sneezing continuously.
I frown. Maybe it’s something in the air.
I get through the security at the Central Administration office and the additional screenings at the War Department. By the time I make it to my work console, I am not only sneezing, but my nose is runny, and it feels as if something is stuck in my throat so I constantly try to cough it out.
My skin is burning, and I get lightheaded.
Still, I push through, getting my files in order as I start tracking my assigned SoT warriors. With every second, my symptoms intensify.
“Nykander?”
It takes me a moment to realize someone is calling my name. Between a cough and a sneeze, I respond with a weak, “Yes?”
“Come see me for a moment,” Elysand says.
Nodding, I get up and follow him.
He takes me to another room and closes the door.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Uhm, yes…”
Achoo!
I cringe as soon as I sneeze and place my hand over my mouth.
“Sorry.”
“You are not well.”
“I was…well enough this morning but…”
“People with no spiritual energy are as vulnerable as mortals to the elements,” he says with a sigh.
I stare at him blankly.
“You have a cold.”
“A…cold?”
He nods. “It’s gotten much colder in the last few days here. It’s not abnormal that someone with your stats would suffer the consequences.”
I lower my head. Right, I’m so weak even the elements pose a danger to me. It seems my father’s shield was at least protecting me from that since this is the first time I’ve ever experienced such symptoms.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can say. “I did not mean to bring the illness here.”
He waves his hand at me. “Don’t you worry about that. No one else can catch it. You on the other hand…” he trails off.
“I can still work. I promise, it won’t affect my performance.”
Another sigh. “Colds pass in a few days. If this persists, please let me know.”
“All right…” I mutter and go back to my station.
Although I do my best to work through this mental fog, I can’t help but notice the way people around me stare at me and snicker every now and then. And when I move from one area to another, they all give me a wide berth, as if I were contagious.
Elysand said no one could catch the cold from me, so why are they behaving as if I could infect them all?
“Are you all right, Nykander?” Pekka eventually asks, but he keeps the same distance from me.
“Yes.” I force a smile. “Just a small cold.”
He nods. “Understandable with your condition.”
That’s one way of putting it.
“I’m curious, have you never tried advancing?”
I purse my lips. How do I explain that I’m prohibited by law to seek any teacher that might help me with advancement? Or that I am not allowed to do it on my own either, even if I were to know how.
“I don’t think I am good at such things,” I answer carefully. “I am more suited to office work.”
“But without any spiritual power, you’re vulnerable to all sorts of diseases. Are you not concerned? What about your lifespan?”
“I am not sure,” I answer honestly. Technically, at my age, one would gain immortality after advancing to the third level. As it stands, with my nonexistent levels, I am not sure how my lifespan will be affected in the long run.
“I see.” He smiles ruefully. “I’ve never heard of someone with no spiritual power, so I was curious. I hope I did not ask any uncomfortable questions.”
“No, no. It is alright,” I quickly add. “At least I can do this job, no?”
“Right…”
I quickly go back to my station to finish my work for the day. From that last exchange, I realize everyone must be wondering how I got the job in the first place, or even how I’ve survived to be three thousand years old with my lack of abilities. Regardless, I have made it—on my own strength too.
I try not to let it bother me and I wrap up my work for the day. The symptoms have not gotten worse, so I can go to a mortal apothecary to find some medicine.
I wrap up my day with no further issues, though as I leave, I notice that everyone still keeps their distance from me.
I don’t understand why. Is it because they truly believe I might be contagious, or is it meant as a mockery of the fact that I have nothing to defend me from these common illnesses?
Whatever the reason, I keep my head down and try to ignore everything around me.
The Central Administration office is quite a long way from home, so I take a short detour through the mortal sector.
I usually avoid wandering there too much.
Some mortals still hold a poor opinion of my kind, and simply being in the same space as them can bring unnecessary conflict.
Normally, I would never risk it—but today, I’m forced to.
As I walk toward the mortal district, I wonder if I might also find a book shop and pick up the latest volume of my favorite book, since I’m already taking the risk of passing through the area.
But I feel worse with every step, and all I really want is to get home and rest. I decide against it.
I’ll just go to the apothecary, buy some medicine, and head straight home.
That’s exactly what I do.
I ignore the stares as best I can. This is a close-knit community, and they always frown upon seeing a new face. That’s how they know I don’t belong. To them, I’m an outsider.
Inside the apothecary, I ask at the counter for whatever they have for the common cold.
The person in charge hands me a concoction that costs a whooping four slova coins.
I reluctantly part with my money, and the looks from those around me tell me this isn’t the usual price. Being an outsider comes with a premium.
Yet the moment I ask for cold medicine, the tension in the room eases. No immortal would ever need a cure for the common cold.
I let out a dry laugh to myself.
I don’t wait until I get home to drink it. I need it immediately to ease the symptoms. I still have an hour and a half of walking ahead of me before I reach home. The moment I exit the apothecary, I chug it down and hurry out of the mortal district, hoping not to draw any more attention.
I’m only a few blocks from the boundary between the mortal district and the rest of the city when I notice a commotion ahead.
At first, it’s just a couple of people arguing. Slowly, it turns more violent. One of the males shoves the other to the ground and then quickly disappears. I tell myself not to get involved, but instinct takes over.
I reach for the man on the ground and ask, “Are you alright, sir?”
He looks at me—and that’s when I realize something is wrong.
His eyes are bloodshot. The whites are streaked red, webbed with black veins that creep down onto his skin. Something is terribly wrong. He stares at me with a crazed expression, and before I can react, his hands clutch the lapels of my coat, dragging me down with him.
A guttural noise tears from his throat as he lunges forward, mouth open, as if he’s trying to bite me.
What—
For a second, I’m too terrified to move. When my survival instincts finally kick in and I try to shove him off, he only grows more aggressive. The first punch is the worst. Blood floods my mouth. The second barely registers, or maybe my body has already adapted to the pain.
He pummels me, shouting over and over that he wants me to give him something.
“Give it to me. Give it to me now.”
I don’t know how I disentangle myself from his grip. I only know that once I’m free, I take off running at full speed.
At some point, my mind still foggy, my body filled with pain, I reach home. And the sight that greets me in the mirror horrifies me.
Black and blue spots. Blood pouring from my nose, some caked around my face.
“As if I could be more unlucky…” I whisper to myself with a sigh.