On black murky tar-colored ocean waters, stood a tall and imposing boat. This boat was a massive ship, hundreds of miles long and wide. It would be better to call it a man-made drivable island than a boat. It was made out of metallic dark wood which resisted erosion and could continue to live, as long as it was near water. This boat is one of twelve known mega-colony ships built by humanity and its name is the Bludweld.
This was a place with a strange skew on the technology tree. Electronics did not work due to a mutation of this world's fundamental forces. In replacement, most of the appliances use a form of liquified chemicals and steam to power technology. The significant lack of gunpowder and computers caused a large gap in preventing the advancement of technology. In turn, material science, alchemy, and biology were advanced to the forefront of science. These boats were designed with new alloys and materials synthesized for long-term durability a long time ago.
Bludweld was covered with varying kinds of buildings, farms, and towns across it. Here it was not only a home but also a country to the people on it. The people in this messed up world loved their home and especially were thankful for the Bludweld's constant support of their lives. After all, the land had become completely uninhabitable and mutated due to the pollution of a mysterious fog. The Bludweld not only kept them from contact with the fog but also offered them protection from the abominations and aberrations that lurked within.
The sea was the perfect barrier against these things. And thus, the people within it thrived. The government of Bludweld itself set up a variety of programs to help sustain its people; especially taking care of the needy and orphaned. One such program was the Seeker Children Program. A program that took orphaned children and funded them from state-ship money, to become a professional Seeker, an adventuring person who explored the fog.
The 39th class of the Seeker Child Program was graduating today within the 1st City of Bludweld. It was a time of expectation, nervousness, and anticipation for the future. The people of this class had been trained since they were taken in by the state and taught survival training, swordsmanship, linguistics, research techniques, record-keeping, and special operations.
But despite all their training, they could only rely on luck if they would survive the 'Branding'.
...
A tall 1.9-meter 17-year-old stood in front of a mirror in the bathroom and stared at his face. His black hair was unkempt and untamed despite what he might try to do to keep it combed. His eyes were brown and his chin was rounded noted by the baby fat still on his cheeks. it was obvious that this young man was still growing, and yet there was a seriousness in his eyes that suggested he knew the world's difficulties.
He wore a Bludweld classic grey short-trench coat and a small silver locket on his neck attached to a necklace. On his hip, he wore a worn-down wooden practice sword. This was the standard uniform for his graduating class and the practice sword he was issued when he first signed his contract more than a decade ago. This man was a member of the 39th graduating class of state-ship-raised orphans; Wes Bludweld.
*Spash*
Wes splashed water next to the bathroom crystal mirror onto his face and rubbed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. His usually serious and calm demeanor was cracking under the pressure of the upcoming Branding ceremony in the 1st city. His breathing became short and rapid and his pupils dilated under the pressure.
Wes splashed water on his face once more.
"Wes?" A young man's voice echoed from the outside of the bathroom.
"One minute," Wes said as he glanced at the bathroom's exit.
*Deep breath*
Wes took a deep breath to force himself to calm down. The ceremony he would complete was a life-or-death situation. Wes deeply understood his situation, along with the rest of the orphans who were trained with him. The state was not one to waste resources, and now that it had trained him and the others for more than a decade in expensive training classes, he would need to repay the costs.
He could only do this by becoming an official Seeker, the hope of the Seeker Child Program, and obtaining resources and treasures within the mutagenic fog on land for the sake of Bludweld. After 10,000 cron were repaid, he was considered set free from his obligations to Bludweld. After all, the country did not want to abuse any powerful Seekers who entered the fog.
There was only one difficult issue to deal with. The properties of the mutagenic fog elements distort and mutate anything that contacts it. This included both the physical world and the spiritual world. To control these changes, people discovered mystical rectangular stone slabs in the early era which could press a 'Brand' onto a person's soul, to direct the changes caused by the fog into safe channels. These stone slabs were treated as the highest form of treasure called a Plate.
Plates alone are considered to be the capital required to establish a country or nation, as you could build up an army of Seekers filled with supernatural abilities. However, the cost to create a Seeker was a high risk of aberration, mutation, and death. Most people lose their minds upon gaining a Brand, with a survival rate of less than 30% of people.
Some people might jump at the chance to press their hands on a Plate and obtain a Brand, regardless of the risks. Especially so since most plates are heavily controlled by powerful forces to consolidate power. And yet, despite the generosity that Bludweld displayed by granting public access to the 'Swordsman' Plate.
Wes was anxious about his future and trying to keep his nerves calm. To achieve his dreams, he needed the power of a Brand to resist the natural pollution of the mutagenic fog.
Wes matted his hair down with water and left the bathroom. His muscles were tense across his neck and back. Yet not many people would notice due to the loose clothing worn by Seeker. He joined up with a familiar face as he left the bathroom, another member of the 39th graduating class of state-raised Seekers; Reno Bludweld.
Reno was a tall brown-haired 17-year-old who looked like he had similar habits to Wes, with his hair having the same problem of looking uncontrollable. Perhaps the only difference between the two of them was Reno's obvious scars across the left side of his face from beatings he got stealing in his early childhood. He wore the same uniform as Wes and had a big smile on his face.
"Let's get some Scub Meat. Gotta splurge for a potential last meal." Reno said, in an upbeat tone and a big smile.
However, Wes noticed the tension in Reno's body and his eyes suggested he wasn't as relaxed as he appeared to be. It would seem that even an annoying person like Reno would be nervous at a time like this.
"Alright." Wes nodded and walked next to his energetic classmate.
The leisurely walk down to the Scub Burger joint was filled with mostly silence from Wes's side, only adding a word or two to Reno's comments and questions. The grey and blue metal buildings along the sides of the city road were filled with gaps that suggested the area they were in was heavily run-down and eroded. Sections of areas were walled off with bright orange warning tapes, marked for renovation at a future time. Wes took it all in silently while listening to Reno's constant talking.Â
They reached the burger joint and were served a greyish burger patty stacked high with all the toppings; A classic Scub Burger stacked high with toppings and flavors.
Reno's finally stopped his nervous talking when the burgers were in front of them. The burger was indeed one of the best you could buy in Bludweld cities. Scubs was a carefully bred and raised livestock animal similar to cows. The meat they produce is significantly sweeter than cow meat, making the taste incredibly good, and ended up being far more popular than regular beef.
Wes savored his burger quietly and enjoyed the breeze that blew as they ate. His eyes moved across the varying individuals walking along the sidewalk. His mind automatically turned to make inferences about each individual, guessing where they worked, what they did, and a short personality profile of the individual.
This wasn't a skill that all Seeker Children had. Wes improved his skill naturally from his love of reading psychology books. The human mind was a treasure of potential and mystery which could be easily revealed if one knew what to look for. The Seeker Child program naturally included some basic knowledge in psychology, but it was mostly information on keeping yourself sane while checking for the signs of mutagenic mind decay caused by the fog. Wes was interested in more than just this and fell in love with any book he could get, which focused on the human mind.
A woman walked by wearing a broad-brim pink hat and a modest short skirt. Wes's eyes darted around her body and started to make inferences about himself. She was well dressed, but the hat was excessively large. This calls attention to her, and she knows it. Wes filed her away in his mind as someone he wouldn't want to meet. She would most likely enjoy talking about herself, not to mention the clothing she currently wore was the latest fashion, with quite a price tag. Rich woman? High chance.
The woman had now gotten far enough away from Wes and Reno that Wes gave up his game on her. Instead, he refocused on another interesting individual nearby. A gruff-looking man with a measured step in his walk. He wore a blue Seeker's trench coat with the image of a wolf's face, clamping its jaw on a sword, on the back. He had a Katana sheathed on his hip and seemed to walk with purpose.
It was obvious this man was a Seeker and he belonged to the Bladewolves faction. His gait was obvious for a practiced swordsman and martial artist, in the way he moved himself. He was like a coiled spring, always on alert and ready to fight. However, the look in the man's eyes left Wes slightly taken aback.
The man had a crazy look in his eyes that not many could catch unless you knew what to look for. It was an abnormal level of focus in his eyes as if looking for something specifically, hoping for something like a junkie about to get his fix. This man had the first signs of mutagenic mind decay; Obsession. The man's eyes seemed to notice Wes staring at him and met his gaze.Â
Wes forced a small smile raised his glass to the man and nodded at him. The man nodded back after glancing at his grey trench coat, before ignoring him.
Wes sighed.
'I need some peace.' He thought as he glanced at Reno across from him.
"I'll leave first, Reno," Wes said as he stood up from the table and laid two crons on the table to cover his side of the bill.
"What? Didn't you want to arrive together?" Reno asked in surprise.
"I'd like some time alone for a while," Wes replied.
"Well, okay," Reno said, his shoulders falling.
"See you at the ceremony!" Reno said, patting Wes on the back.
Wes nodded and smiled slightly as he left.
He walked along the familiar sidewalks for a few minutes, until he came to an even more run-down section, where an old boarded-up church was waiting for him. Seeing the familiar church, Wes smiled and walked to his usual entrance. He ducked underneath the boards and pulled open a section of the decaying door with some effort. This was the place he would come to when he wanted peace. He would come here and read while looking out into the city below him from atop the bell tower. No place in the world relaxed him like this place did.
Wes entered the usual path up to the bell tower but paused as he noticed a knocked-down sculpture near a wall. He studied the fallen sculpture wondering if someone else had been here other than him, but it looked like it had just fallen due to wood rot at its base. However, this was not all that he found. A small cubby door with a latch was revealed from the wall that was originally behind the statue.
The lock on its hinges had already fallen off from rust and it was easy for him to pry it open.
*Creak*
*Snap*
The rotten boards were pulled away and snapped as he opened the cubby door. From its size, it was obvious that humans were not supposed to go inside it, it was intended to hide or store valuables. A small set of black bandages wrapped a leather pouch inside the cubby.
Wes was first surprised that he found something hidden behind this broken sculpture, despite him passing this place for so long. He reached out to pick up the rags, but sharply withdrew his fingers as if he had just been burned when he touched the rags. A hot and nauseous feeling filled his head as he felt the effects described in school. There was no doubt, the rags themselves had been mutated by the fog. The feeling he just felt was described as the mutagenic radiation given off by certain rare treasures. Prolonged contact with the rags without a Brand would turn him into an aberration or abomination.Â
*Hiss*
Wes's heart started beating fast in excitement as he looked at the rags. The rags alone were a treasure he could sell for thousands of cron with the right buyer. He never expected to stumble upon this!
He gingerly reached his hand in between the rags and slid the leather pouch out from between them. The pouch was about the size of his hand and he was confident he was dexterous enough to slip it out without touching the rags. However, he was interrupted as a small bat surprised him as it flew out, His weight shift caused a floorboard underneath him to give way due to excess rot.
*Bat screeching*
*Snap*
His eyes widened as the floorboards shifted him off balance. His face smashed directly with the wall and his hand fully pressed down onto the rag-wrapped leather pouch.Â
*HUMMM*
A humming sound filled the air, as a reaction began to take place from the contact of Wes's hand and the contents of the leather pouch. The familiar hot and nauseous feeling invaded his mind completely. He felt himself swirling and drowning in a vortex of confusion and disorder. The last thought he had before his brain shut down, was the shape of the reaction to seeing a red light that only comes from a Plate, from inside the leather pouch.
'Is that a plate?' Wes thought before he slid down the wall completely losing consciousness.