When she came to, Lyna found that the air had a horrible smell to it. The stench of garbage mixed with burning rubber, mold, raw sewage, cinders, and something else rotting and decaying. It was extremely noticeable as it stung at her eyes and made the inside of her nostrils burn. After a few minutes of inhaling such a filthy odor, which was undoubtedly harmful to be breathing in constantly, it became just barely endurable.
Lyna shifted her body. She was laying on top of some plastic trash bags that crackled every time she moved the tiniest bit. She lifted one hand behind her head and rubbed it to settle the pain.
"…Ow, ow, ow…" she said.
Only then did she realize she was sitting in an old and moldy overfilled dumpster that was placed in the darkness between two buildings. She gathered the strength to sit up, which was rather difficult since she was laying atop a large pile of trash. This soon resulted in her sliding downward on the hill of dirtied garbage bags, and she fell out of the dumpster and landed on her bottom.
She held back her voice as she wanted to yelp from the pain. Being from a prestigious and majestic family, she had never, not once, experienced such physical aches as bad as this before.
How could this have happened? What could have possibly gone wrong? All she was supposed to do was to choose her own Kindler on her first step to becoming a full-fledged Spur, right? Think. She had to think. She tried to remember. Her memory was so fuzzy.
A surprised gasp came out of her mouth when the realization hit her as if she were struck by lightning. The sudden crash. The explosion. The ground shaking. The shattered glass flying everywhere. She actually fell?
No, there was no way. She didn't want to believe it. Besides, the precautions within the Freederts were maxed out beyond normal limits to ensure and preserve the safety of all its patrons.
She looked up to see the platform at five floors above the ground. The lights were dark and there was no one on the platform. She fell and nobody was helping her. It made her feel so scared and alone instantly.
"Either way…" she spoke aloud to herself with her voice all hoarse, "I should…make my way back. I just can't let Grandpa…and the others worry about me like this."
Still rubbing her bottom with one hand, she managed to stand up with wobbly legs. Prestigious people, such as herself, were meant to look their best and with absolute sophistication, elegance, and superiority. She had disregarded this fact by now as she headed towards the light that would be her exit from the darkness. At least, that's what she had hoped.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened at the sight before her. What she saw now was far much worse than even the lowly slums of the munificent and luxurious metropolis where she resided.
"This is…the Freederts?"
It was literally a city in ruins. Like it had been destroyed a long time ago and no one ever bothered to repair it. The structures of each and every building were rotting from the outside.
Plus, the smell. It only got worse once she stepped back into the light from the high ceiling above. She pinched her nostrils closed with two fingers, feeling about ready to gag. Her eyes were starting to water up from the stink and she shut them tight, but only for a minute.
She couldn't waste any time. Taking that first step forward was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life, but this would take at least a hundred first steps to get out of here, she thought. Maybe fifty if she was lucky. Regardless of how much time it'd take, Lyna just began putting one foot in front of the other, at her own pace, being on extra high alert, for she had no idea what she may encounter here.
Treading cautiously was no easy task. The concrete ground practically crumbled at her feet with each and every step. Anxiety increasingly surged throughout Lyna's whole being as she kept moving forward further and further, deeper and deeper into the very pits of the Freederts.
She stayed close to the outer walls of every building she walked by, sliding one hand against these walls made of longstanding brick and disintegrating stone, internally praying to herself for them to support her if she were to lose her grip on her own sanity or her reality.
"This is for real…This is for real…" she kept repeating quietly to herself.
Of course, this made her more fearful, but it was the only way she could stay in the present moment and focus on the priority ahead of her: a safe return back to her grandfather.
Something felt strange here, but Lyna couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it is. The already eerie atmosphere was growing progressively colder. It sent shivers up her spine. She began rubbing her arms as a chilly draft rolled in as well as darting her head from side to side, in all directions of where she was going, keeping an eye out for any signs of danger. Her grandfather's words kept ringing inside her head:
…You should know by now all records show that the Freederts are a dangerous place, even for its inhabitants. And can be especially so for Spurs suchlike us. Some cases have shown that most will attack any newcomers on sight, such as yourself…
Panicked thoughts swirling inside her brain were getting increasingly louder and more frequent as she passed from one cheap flimsy building to the next. She was almost on the verge of tears because she realized the scariest part of this is how she hasn't seen any other people by now or signs of life at all, let alone any Kindler activity. Surely the Freederts should be packed at capacity with Kindlers, or at least that's what she's been told. This only increased her fear, wondering where everyone could possibly be.
As she was about to turn another corner, she was suddenly greeted by a blast of a whirlwind, like a sideways tornado, rushing by in front of her path. She stopped right in her tracks, almost having a heart attack out of pure shock. Her eyes widened, and then she mustered up the courage to cautiously and slowly peer around the corner of the building just to get a glimpse at what was happening.
In the street beyond were several Kindlers punching, kicking, and wielding pieces of broken glass and small blades, and using their powers against each other. They were all males, and while most of them surprisingly had quite large and muscular physiques, one of them was small and feeble. That one had blue hair with long bangs that were parted to one side of his face, and he was wearing all black clothing covered in dirt, with tears in the cloth.
The boy cleared some distance between himself and his opponents then stretched out both hands in front of him and internally called upon his own supernatural power. Bursts of blue flames manifested from the palms of his hands, and then he pushed the blast toward the other men.
But his attack was cut short when a tall, very muscular man with dark skin and long black dreadlocks summoned his power to create a wall of wind. It blew away the blue flames before they could even touch their target.
Lyna realized that the green tornado with speckled blue flames she saw earlier had come from these Kindlers' brawl.
"Is that really the best you got?" the same man inquired aloud. "You ought to know by now your flames will never penetrate my wind. At this rate, you're going to die!"
"He must know he can't win at hand-to-hand combat." another one of the men stated.
"Yeah, he wouldn't last ten seconds," someone else claimed.
They were right, too. Close combat was not an option due to hunger and exhaustion weakening his already pathetic physical condition.
But their remarks only made the blue-haired boy more frustrated. He let his anger take over and charged toward the men while they were all still laughing. Swiftly pulling out a pocketknife from his belt as he dashed, and once he was close enough, he prepared to stab the man who controls wind right in the gut.
However, the man saw this coming and grabbed ahold of the boy's wrist with the hand that was gripping the pocketknife. But then, in a stroke of luck, the boy used his other hand to summon as many blue flames as he possibly could in that moment and hurled them at the man's face when he was caught off guard.
One of the other men joined in to help his comrade. The blue-haired boy ducked down to dodge the kick to his head and then jammed the blade of his pocketknife into the guy's outer thigh. Blood spilled from his wound as he yelped in pain and cursed at the top of his lungs. The boy exhaled and immediately got blasted away by another shot of whirlwind produced by the man with dreadlocks. He landed on his back and then rolled over onto his side, curled in pain.
Lyna gasped at the sight. She'd never witnessed a Kindler fight so up close. This is probably the closest she's ever been to the action. She knew fights amongst the Kindlers themselves were not uncommon inside the Freederts. In a way, it was justified to show who belonged and who didn't. But it made Lyna afraid of getting caught in the crossfire. While the blue-haired boy was trying his best, his body was slender and scrawny and looked like he was half-starved. He paled in comparison to his opponent.
She had learned about the Freederts only via textbooks and documents during her private studies with the various tutors whom her grandfather had hired for the benefit of her knowledge and well-being, but today had beckoned an instant spark of rethinking everything she knew to be true.
The larger men were standing over the blue-haired boy just before they each started kicking his fallen body. He grunted in pain with every foot colliding into his torso and face, and he was trying to get up off the ground, but the many blows to his body were preventing him from doing so.
Lyna couldn't bear to watch, for the fighting was so intense to her that it made her want to throw up. Any fighting, even a simple argument, made Lyna want to throw up. But she couldn't look away. Like a hidden force inside of her was urging her to not shift her gaze, and that she needed to see this.
Like how her grandfather had always told her when she was still a young child, "A Spur must be accustomed to the violence."
"Hey, who the hell are you?" one of the intimidating men was now looking in her direction. "What are you doing here?" The fight stopped as soon as he said that.
Without even realizing it, Lyna had stepped out of the building's shadow and was closing in on the Kindlers. Her feet had a mind of their own at this point, slowly putting one in front of the other, and she couldn't stop. That is, until everyone there was glaring at her and the man with dreadlocks decided to approach her.
"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked. "I can tell that much easily. And those fancy clothes, that blazer and necktie. Are you a Spur, then?"
His threatening aura made Lyna want to back away, but she was dead in her tracks. Her heart was racing inside her chest and she pictured him snapping her in two. She needed something to defend herself with.
Then she remembered the gun. She hastily opened her bag and scrambled one hand inside to find it. She'd never used one before, though she had seen plenty of other people use one. Once she felt it in her fingertips, she quickly pulled out the gun and aimed it at the man, holding it in both hands. The weapon seemed much heavier than the last time she held it, and her arms were trembling as she had them stretched out in front of her.
Kindlers looked on in anticipation at what was to come. They became frightened, aware that the gun was equipped with Nexus Cell bullets. Nexus Cells, of course, will render their powers null and useless, and then they will be at the mercy of this girl Spur.
But as short seconds turned to long moments, the silence in the air eventually told the men that Lyna wasn't going to shoot. They needed no more clarification than that, so they began mocking her.
"Huh? Aren't you going to shoot us?" one said.
"What kind of a Spur doesn't have the guts to shoot a Kindler?" another asked.
"Don't tell me this is your first time."
"Haha! She must be a real coward, then."
"Idiot!"
"Bitch!"
Lyna felt on the brink of crying as they all laughed at her. Shouldn't they be giving her respect? She is a Spur. Shouldn't they want to be her Kindler? Or was she just not as good as she was taught to be? She thought she'd be better at this. She couldn't think straight. She was shaking and her arms trembled so much that the gun in her hands rattled. Her knees felt weak like she was about to fall to the dirt.
As they were distracted, the blue-haired boy found the opportunity to strike back. He manifested another burst of his blue flames, swirling them around in the air and in the faces of the men still standing over him. Despite being in so much pain, he pulled himself up from the ground, and then reached out and yanked out his pocketknife that was still lodged in the guy's leg, causing more blood to spurt uncontrollably from his wound. His cry of pain caught the attention of the man with dreadlocks who looked back and immediately saw the boy very close up. A second later, the blue-haired boy swung his blade and hit his mark, its tip piercing the man's eyeball and sinking in.
Lyna gasped. The man no longer had a chance of becoming a Spur's Kindler.
He screamed, summoning blasts of wind from his hands but couldn't see where to aim them so he just started frantically attacking in all directions. This was the perfect chance for the boy to make his escape, so he darted out of there as fast as he could. Lyna kept her eyes on him, and as he ran off, she felt the intense urge to follow him. The last words that Dr. Smith told her rang out inside her head and she realized that he must be that blue-haired boy. She knew she couldn't let him get away. For he may be her only chance at survival.
They both turned the corner and ran. And they ran and didn't stop until they couldn't hear the screams or the blasts of wind hurdling into random buildings. While catching their breath in a dark alleyway, only then did the blue-haired boy notice Lyna's presence behind him.
"Hey, why did you follow me?" he demanded to know.
Lyna looked up with her brow furrowed and her eyes wide as she had her hands on her knees, "I just…I didn't know what else to do."
Suddenly, the boy collapsed on the gravel road, clutching one side of his stomach in one hand, and Lyna rushed to his side.
"Oh no! Are you all right?"
"Do I look like I'm all right?"
She recoiled at the irritation in his voice. Then he lifted up his shirt to show he had many burn scars all over him. There was also a huge bruise on his stomach accompanied by a large slit in his skin and flesh. It was bleeding a lot.
"Oh my god! Hold on," Lyna started rummaging through her bag in search of a first aid kit or any other medical supplies that could help.
"Forget it," he told her.
While surprised by this, she looked back at the boy to see he had summoned a small blue flame in the palm of his hand and held it close to his own wound. He gritted his teeth from the heat and the pain as the bleeding slowly subsided, and after about a minute of this, he literally burned his wound closed.
A shocked Lyna knelt down still thinking this boy needed urgent medical attention, but she was even more surprised when he was able to stand back up on his own.
"Uh, are you…okay?" she nervously stuttered, "Um, maybe we should…should get you to a doctor…as soon as possible!"
"You big idiot. There is no doctor here," he quickly shot back.
"But, but, your injuries! We…I think we need to get some professional help, and—"
"What's with this we? There is no we!" he shouted with his posture still slumped but trying to stand tall.
"I…I just—"
"God, what the heck is with you?" he shouted at her in pure anger. "You're a Spur, aren't you? Can't you just call your servants to come get you? You ought to have more control over your own situation. Or you might as well end up dead."
Lyna reached out one hand to touch him because she was still concerned with his injury and thinking that just burning it closed wasn't the best course of action. "But I'm—"
"Don't touch me. Get away from me now." He pulled away at the last second. He then turned his back on her, grumbling beneath his breath, and went on his way.
Lyna could not take her eyes off of him. She found this very strange. For a small moment, she wasn't feeling any kind of pressure but still not relieved. And as he walked away, Lyna's feet began to step towards his direction, pacing after him. Slowly at first, but then picking up speed, wanting to catch up to him.
"Please, just listen to me," Lyna called out to him, "Dr. Smith told me that you'd help me. I need to get back to my grandfather. Can you help me do that?"
As soon as she said, "Dr. Smith", a chill ran up the boy's spine and he stopped right in his tracks. His body shuddered and a drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. Even more furious, he turned around and said, "Well, you heard wrong. You can't trust that bastard. He's nothing but trouble."
"He is?" Lyna asked, "But he–"
"You really are a pain in the ass. If you insist on being associated with Dr. Smith, you should just stay away from me…or I will kill you."
She didn't know why, but something about this blue-haired boy drew Lyna in, and she could feel it, an enigmatic joy sided with an extreme inquisitiveness, swelling up from the bottom of her heart. She knew one thing for sure. She couldn't let him get away.
So she quickly and desperately started making sure he didn't disappear from her within the colossal, confusing labyrinth that was the city in the Freederts.
Once he was in her sights again when she turned the next corner, she was walking at her normal speed at first, only to realize his pace was much faster than hers. She was amazed at how much physical prowess he must have, despite having been injured.
"Um, excuse me!" she shouted to the blue-haired boy ahead of her.
He didn't stop moving forward, but he did turn his head back and saw Lyna was trying to catch up to him, "What the hell?! Are you seriously still tailing me?" he yelled out of being aggravated further. "What did I just get through telling you?"
Lyna needed to catch her breath already, "Please, just wait for me. I just—"
"Why should I wait for you? Go home, Spur." His tone was cruel.
Even though his attitude was starting to drive Lyna to tears, she pressed onward with the resolution of a starving predator stalking its prey and ready to pounce.