A few minutes later, with no snake in tow and no immediate danger, Seth's steps slowed. The forest returned to view quietly as his sprint waned to a jog. Without the panic to numb him, he finally paid attention to the pain in his side and found most of his muscles sore from use. He slowed from a jog to a quick walk, brisk and attentive, head swiveling for signs of danger as he mentally took stock of himself.
First was his headache. As was the way with it, it hummed at the back of his head, releasing the barest trickles of itself to trail a line along both sides of his head and into his forehead before disappearing for a moment. When he was littler his parents had hired the best healers they could afford without their bank accounts crying in pain.
It had done nothing.
The ache had remained, coming and going whenever it pleased, and continued to do so. Not even a gold authority healer, an old friend of his father, had been able to do as much as numb it. It was an unwanted companion, but a companion, nonetheless. So he ignored it, his attention skimming the rest of his body.
He was limping now, hurrying in order to maintain a sense of speed and, while his legs ached more than most of his body, it wasn't the reason for the limp. That, he attributed to the pain in his side.
He spared his environment a reprieve from his attention quickly enough to glance down at his side and frowned.
"Shit!" he swore under his breath before looking back to his surroundings, head swiveling again, watching, searching.
The wound in his side looked bad. He hadn't seen it clearly, the glance being too quick, but there was too much red staining his brown cotton shirt for it to be safe. His free hand went straight to his pack strapped across his chest and he paused. He'd figured there'd be a way to use it, maybe wear it differently to apply pressure on the wound, but thought better of it. Its content had been a major play in what had happened, but it was also extremely valuable. Too valuable to risk.
His hand slowly strayed to his chest were the pack was. The action was unconscious and he stopped himself when he made contact with the pack. No. He would open it when it was safe; when he was certain he was safe. Not a moment less.
Knowing he had to hurry home before his father began asking of his whereabouts, he forced himself back into a jog, increasing his pace where he had once slowed it. Without the adrenaline pumping through him—without the fear and panic to spur him on—he felt every pain as he moved.
He'd barely taken three steps when the world came alive in a rage of actions. Everything happened quickly, so fast his mind barely tracked even his movements until everything was done.
A tree shifted the smallest inch, barely a hair's breadth. His body tensed even before his eyes tracked the movement off to his side. The ground trembled and another tree shuddered, then bent forward. He heard the wood groan as it sheared under the weight of a fast and massive snake as it bent horribly, then broke, shattered from itself grotesquely and felled almost immediately.
All Seth saw after was the inside of the snake's mouth. It was wider than himself, its jaw scraping up dirt and grass as it struck at him. Its pink insides reminded him of new skin and oiled detritus and he only had enough time to take a step away before it met him. The step faltered and destabilized him so that he lost his footing.
The massive snake closed in and power exploded everywhere.
Something fell from above them and struck the snake with enough power to displace the air around them. The blow forced the snake's mouth shut bare inches from Seth's face. The impact drove its head into the ground so that it cracked the dirt in a thunderous boom, creating a crater where the soil had been flat mere moments ago. The force of it flung Seth back at least ten feet, lifting him off the ground to crash into yet another tree. The impact was powerful and white hot pain flashed in his mind, ruining his vision temporarily.
When his vision returned, he found the snake slithering away as if unconcerned.
He could believe it simply left at the thought of inconvenience. After all, that was the way with powerful reia beasts. In the crater left behind, Jonathan stood. A white long sleeved t-shirt covered his torso and his trouser was a clean black. His blonde hair was messy today, and his shoulders heaved from what looked like suppressed rage or exertion. Seth couldn't be sure.
He only hoped that if it was ire, it was for the snake and not himself. But when Jonathan looked back, Seth knew his hope had been nothing but that. Hope. He met the golden eyes of a souled in the realm of gold authority and not just his brother.
When Jonathan spoke, Seth's blood quivered even though he knew he would not hurt him.
"Seth," Jonathan said. "What did father say about this place?"
Seth said nothing, holding silence as the best response to his brother's question, yet he trembled.
Despite his anger, Jonathan wasn't mean; neither did he ever get physical with him.
"Seth?"
Jonathan's word demanded a response.
"Why are you here?" he asked slowly, something he'd only begun doing after absorbing his first soul fragment a few years ago. "Hasn't father warned you away from this place?"
Again, Seth said nothing. Silence continued to seem the best answer in this moment. That and the pain in his side kept him from noticing he was shivering. His brother's anger was not immediately terrifying, however, the reason none of his brothers looked forward to being the cause of it was because it ensured Jonathan would not stand to temper justice with mercy when their parents brought the inevitable punishments.
Jonathan watched him quietly a while longer. He was studying him, as he did everything. Seth said nothing to this; did nothing. Satisfied, or unsatisfied—Seth could rarely ever tell—with whatever he saw, Jonathan's shoulders relaxed and he spoke again.
"We should return home," he said simply, then turned and walked away.
Seth followed after him slowly. He knew his brother noticed he was bleeding but chose to say naught on the issue. What was important to him, however, was why he had said nothing of the contents of his bag. He thought the souled could sense a fragment when it was close. Or wasn't it close enough?
"What was that?" he asked, finally speaking when they were near the exit from the forest.
"Snaffles," Jonathan replied.
Seth's steps faltered, the answer doing nothing to quell the question. "Snaffles?"
"The reason father told you to stay away from this place."
Seth nodded, though his brother could not see him. There was a massive snake, most likely a soul beast which was a step above a reia beast, in the forest just behind their house and Jonathan couldn't be bothered by it. Worse, their father was aware and did nothing about it.
He wasn't sure how to feel about this. But golds worried over different things as compared to those of lesser authorities or, in his case, no authority.
........................
The path to their house was simple. It was no more than a flat terrain of ferns and simple grass that came up no higher than Seth's ankles. The walk home was done in silence and Seth pondered on the nature of soul fragments. They were the things that gave birth to those called souled and were said to only come from soul beasts. And at gold authority, Jonathan stood at the second highest authority there was, a feat he'd achieved in only four years. It was an impressive one, considering the fastest recorded one before him was done in six. There were rumors of a group of people who knew how to do it faster but Seth never put much stock in rumors.
As he walked, he thought of the different fragments there were before remembering all that differentiated them was their colors and their sizes. The abilities they gave were unpredictable unless one knew what soul beast they'd been collected from. And even then, it would be nothing but an educated guess. At least, those were the stories amongst his peers. Peers whom he rarely spent much time around. Peers whom he reminded himself weren't souled.
He and Jonathan arrived home in less than twenty minutes, Seth forced to hurry in the silent command of his brother's steps. It was aggravating to know his brother was simply walking yet he had to hurry to catch up.
Jonathan led him into the house through the back door, saving him from his father's attention that would have been heavy if they'd entered through the front.
The door opened into the kitchen and Seth was welcomed to the scent of cooked food. The heat in the kitchen was heavy and thick, a sign of its recent use and they passed through it without slowing, Jonathan leading him deeper into the house.
They took the stairs to the upper floor in silent hurry. This was where their rooms were situated, while the floor below consisted mostly of the living room, the kitchen, a guest room, and their father's study. Their mother's study was there, too, but she used it so rarely it might as well not exist.
When they were at the door to Seth's room, Jonathan stopped him, giving him his attention once more. "Stay away from the forest," he told him. "Snaffles is gold and it was toying with you for reasons I can't understand."
Seth frowned at that, disagreeing with his brother.
He'd survived Snaffles for a long while, though. He'd even lost it at some point. He didn't like how Jonathan belittled his effort, so he complained like the child he was.
"I lost it at some point, though."
Jonathan's brow rose in mild bafflement. "It was playing with its food, Seth," he said in way of explanation.
Seth refused to agree. His brother was wrong. He was certain of it. He knew the forest like the back of his hand. He'd been playing in it for as long as they'd moved here.
His disagreement must have shown on his face because Jonathan sighed. It was the one he used when he thought Seth was being unreasonable. He met Seth's gaze, his eyes gentle for the first time since finding him in the forest.
"You're a smart kid, O," he said, using the only nickname he had for him, an abbreviation of one of his three names. "Do you honestly believe you were surviving a chase from a gold ranked soul beast?"
Seth shrugged, suppressing his satisfaction at Jonathan's use of the name. "I know the place like the back of my hand," he said.
"I see. So you've been going there more often than dad even knows."
Seth swore at his own revelation. His inability to keep secrets from Jonathan was going to get him in serious trouble one day. Luckily, Jonathan didn't seem too bothered by the informationi.
"Ask yourself this, then," Jonathan continued. "All this time, how many times have you come across Snaffles?"
Seth didn't even need to think about it. Today was the first.
Understanding dawned on him with the realization a moment after.
Jonathan nodded. "You're smart when you need to be, and that's a good thing. Snaffles has been leaving in that forest since the first world crack. Before we even moved here. It was Iron rank then, from what dad told me. Now it's gold."
Forty years, Seth thought. And in the seven years he'd been rummaging around in the place, he'd never seen it, not even in passing. The damned snake had been toying with him. The idea sent a shiver as well as a spurt of anger through his spine.
"Now go wash up," Jonathan added, sparing his injury another brief glance before turning away. "Dad has guests downstairs, and you stink."
Seth didn't have to think about it. He opened the door to his room and snuck in quietly. Safely inside, he locked the door behind him. In a part of his mind, a little corner that remembered he wasn't the only important person in his world, his mind hoped Natalie was among his father's guests.
First he checked on his injury and found it had stopped bleeding somewhere during their journey back. Still, he took his time to check it thoroughly, going through the motions almost mechanically. For something that had bled all over his hand, it was rather small, a simple gash along his side. Even now, its pain was just a numb throb in his side, much like his undying headache. Confident he was alright, he moved on to what was important.
He checked behind him, reassuring himself his door was locked, then took off his pack. Lifting it over his head, he took it to his bed. It was king sized, covered in floral sheets, and scattered. He had forgotten to dress it this morning before leaving the house, much like he did most mornings, and was glad his parents never thought to check.
His lack of organization was something he would deal with later. Right now, he had a more pressing matter to attend.
Soul fragments came in different colors and sizes, but the sizes were never too different. He'd seen a few of them and knew they were mostly red. Amongst them all, however, black was the rarest and the only one said to be truly powerful.
The average number of fragments a person could absorb was four, but there existed those who'd absorbed more. The standing record was seven, held by the Wandering Baron. He was one of the five official Barons in the world, and the only known one without a territory.
Jonathan had five fragments, one of which was a black fragment he'd found after slaying a soul beast that had killed almost all the hunters that had gone after it. It was, apparently, his limit, but Seth suspected he could absorb at least one more.
Disregarding his thoughts, he opened his pack and took out its content.
Most soul fragments looked like small stones the size of an infant's hand. They had a weight, but it nothing considered heavy. He'd held one once and it had been tingly to the touch, the way all soul fragments were. The one he pulled out of his sack, however, he held with both hands and it tingled at the touch. Black was the rarest of colors and was known to give a very strong ability so he wondered what this one was capable of.
What, he thought, staring at it, will a colorless fragment give?