"Gahahahahahaha! The blue chickie runner boy has learned to mouth off to me! Priceless!" Amitha did not stand still as she said that, displaying a herculean leap with her hands clenched together above and behind her head, hurtling to the ground just as quickly as she ascended.
The strike that was meant for Bie's head was deftly avoided, leaving a small crater on the ground as a result. Bie did not stop at evading her stroke, leaning backwards as he flanked her leftmost side with a foot aimed at her face. Amitha stood there and allowed his foot to smush her cheek, using the shock Bie momentarily felt as a chance to quickly stand up and bring her arm under his, putting him in a half nelson.
Bie flailed and kicked his feet up wildly in the air as he swung himself onto Amitha's shoulders, escaping the nelson whilst giving him a perceived advantage. His fists shallowly rained down the back of her head as he kept his legs bound tightly around her neck, while she ran for the hard wall, back pointed towards the nearest stone.
He responded by letting her neck go and extending his threaded hand over into a chokehold, the string digging into her windpipe and prohibiting the air rushing inside her lungs. This lowered her strength, as though she did not need to breathe, the lungs provided an increased force to her movements through an established respiratory rhythm.
With her force inhibited slightly, Bie slung the thread over his shoulder and pulled with all his might. Amitha had to pause for a second, and Bie used that time to recall his hand whilst aiming it to jab at her eyes on the way back.
A smooth sensation graced his fingertips as he jabbed her eyes, the boy readily tying his right hand back to his arm while running around the flailing woman counterclockwise, observing her all the while. Her movements that denoted her irritation did not cease as she rubbed her eyes, so he darted forward as to not miss his chance.
"Peekaboo, daylight?" Amitha peeked from between one of her hands as her smile became ever more brilliant, the other hand aiming a forceful blow at the rushing Bie. He jammed his feet into the ground, leaving a heel shaped indent right in front of her outstretched fist, and pushed down on it with both hands.
Amitha was surprised as he witnessed his lucky deflection, before feeling a soft fist implant onto the sweater, right where her abdominal muscles were. Bie quickly stepped back as she stood there, mum, hiding the gloating shine that lit his topaz eyes ablaze. He then winded his right arm for a couple of oscillations before throwing his fist, aiming right for the cheek he kicked prior.
Pap. Amitha caught it effortlessly and gave him a small clap with her giant hands. "Well done," she said, "This completes the training for today. Ya move real fast, so let's make use of that. The weight behind yer movements was good, too. Head inside the hut so I can figure ya out."
She said no more as she strode towards the plain hut that Bie had started to see as his own home since yesterday. With a slight skip to his steps, he felt just as refreshed as spring was after a long winter. After Amitha hunkered down inside the hut, he went inside the open doorway as well and pushed himself up onto the table, where she had sat down after retrieving a piece of paper from her so called Inner World.
"Sit. Imma show ya something real cool-like." The undead calmly waited for Bie to take a seat atop the table and fold his legs together, the knees pointed in either direction from where he was situated. She then held her hand over his head and patted him, like she normally did, but this time there was a bit of a difference than normal.
A black substance with traces of brown hues and cerulean highlights landed straight where her hand was placed. The viscous, abundant liquid leisurely made its way down his body, as slow as dripping molasses. It took a full minute before the ichorous liquid enveloped Bie completely, while an offshoot of the said substance made its way to the paper that laid beside him. It soon covered that too, and when it finished, all traces of the fluid dissipated.
Except the previously blank paper now had writing and blotches of the liquid. Amitha gestured towards the paper, and Bie curiously picked it up while Amitha began explaining.
"This is Ink. It's like the energy that allows anything with control over it to access our abilities. Ya can think of it like...water in a cup? When we run out of Ink, there's no more water left in the cup. So we can't drink, which means we can't access the abilities or whatever that requires it, kay?"
Bie nodded along as he read the paper grasped firmly in his hands. It had his name on it, as well as numbers and some more wording. The contents were arranged as follows:
<
Bie
Overall Realm: F
Ladder: Unopened!
Strength: 073 (F)
Durability: 085 (F)
Resistance: 085 (F)
Speed: 090 (F)
Precision: 076 (F)
Ink: 052 (F)
Summation: 461 (F)
Ideal: Ariadne's Thread
CCM: Unopened!
————: Unopened! (F)
Bridges:
Krampus Tailor (Lv 1)
<
"Yer status is looking pretty high for a childe, hm? But yer ladder isn't even open? How?? Let's fix that right now." She then thumbed over his eyes and he followed along, shutting them. "You know that itchy feeling in the back of yer head? It's a thing for us Gems of the Dead…yer whole entire body is made up of the remains of whatever corpse was around at the time. The remnant souls form a wee cluster that feeds ya all sorts of things, and comes in handy for stuff like this."
"Just focus on the itch and listen to its murmurs. It'll hurt, but it'll help ya focus on yer conscience enough to do what I tell ya. As ya can see, I'm not the best at explaining…" Bie nodded, bringing his attention to the itch in the depths of his mind. A sudden conflagration of pain beset him, as his insides churned and his head ached in protest.
Bie counted in his head each and every second, while Amitha told him to 'feel where his emotions come from'. Whatever that meant. She kept reiterating it as if it was the crux of his endeavors, and he simply bore the pain and attempted to locate something deep within himself.
Suddenly, a tiled floor the color of the yellow locks hidden beneath the black strands of his hair filled his vision, and the pain lightened up considerably. It was still there, nagging at him as imperceptible whistles raged inside of his ears, but he was more focused on what lay in front of him.
There was a well to his front, an unlit campfire to his left, and there was a light fixture with an odd shape affixed to the ground. If he tugged on it, he would see that it was simply impossible to move, almost as if it was on a wall. To his right, however…
There was a pile of strange tubes, and even further beyond that was an open space that was a bit lighter than the pitch black haze that made up the rest of the environment. The space contained a bridge, extending out into nothing, while a floating effigy of a pair of hands with an eerie grin carved onto each hand shimmered to the front of it.