Next morning, the first thing Ewan did was stock up on food, lots of food. He received the refund late last night, around fifty Sols, and it bolstered his balance a fair bit. Its addition to the previous number was enough for quite some time now. And if he was frugal with it, it could last him till his birthday.
The delivery of the groceries came quick, the bulging paper bags barely holding their contents. It had been a few weeks since he ate a proper meal, so he stored the items in the refrigerator and picked out a rack of lamb to cook. Since he could only use one hand, he went slow. The seasoned and spiced meat browned on all sides with time and patience, then a block of compound butter with some onions and garlic cloves elevated its flavor—he basted it, struggling with one hand, till it reached the apt temperature.
Once it had rested enough, he took it to the dining table in the kitchen and enjoyed it. Orange sat on the table with his milk bottle, eyeing the piping hot rack of meat.
"You can't eat this, drink your milk." Ewan grabbed the bone and ripped a bite with his teeth. The meat was tender and moist, it almost melted in his mouth. He savored the flavor with his eyes closed, bite by bite he ate, relishing every bit of it.
Once he finished it, he left the plate and the dishes in the already full sink and washed his hand and mouth. One day, he would clean it up, he promised himself, one day for sure...
….
The sun peaked for the day, and he continued practicing drawing the spell circuits. Because he practiced the public ones before, he made good progress with his family's. Orange sat on the table, cackling at him from time to time. Sometimes he rolled around in front of Ewan, sometimes he jumped on the notebook and played with his pen.
He never had any pets, so this new situation weirded him out. Nevertheless, the smile he bore now was wider and brighter than before. He always liked to be alone, but that was because he didn't like meeting or socializing with other people. Orange was different, however. His mind was a clean sheet; Ewan didn't need to be on guard against him.
His Pa told him once that Severynths mostly treated their Astylinds in two ways. One kind treated them as pure tools, they didn't hesitate in sacrificing their Astylinds if the situation called for it, though the impact of it on their path would be steep. While the other kind treated them as family—Ewan moved towards the second path.
Once his hands ached and eyes blurred from practicing, he took Orange with him to the second-floor balcony. Sprawling on the recliner, he closed his eyes and took a breather. Aside from deciding whether to contract the special Astylind or not, he also had to think about the path he would take as a Severynth.
Elemental runes would form in Severynths' soul space based on the element of their contracted Astylinds. If Ewan made a contract with Orange, a fire-element rune would form in his soul space.
Unlike Astylinds and other Starons, Humans couldn't manipulate Anima by default. Even the best of the talents faced resistance in their bodies once they controlled the Anima. And resistance from one element was bad enough, if they used different elements, their Anima would also clash against each other; the friction produced would reduce the efficiency and the final effect of the spells—this was why many Severynths majored in only one element even when they contracted Astylinds of different elements.
Mr. Worth once mentioned, off the record, that Ashevas used certain physique modification techniques to overcome the resistance. The techniques he talked about were for single elements, he knew nothing about the method to overcome the friction of multiple elements.
After Ewan contracted every Astylind his father prepared for him, he would form multiple elemental runes in his soul space as well. And so, without any alternative, he also had to choose one element to major in from those elements.
He looked down at Orange and met his glossy eyes.
Fire?
The fire element didn't fit well with his intentions. He always planned to become a supporting spellcaster to his Astylinds, and the offensive nature of the fire element didn't match his plan.
Since his exposure to the Severynth path, he gave his combat style a lot of thought. In his class, many of his classmates aspired to be a vanguard, Ewan preferred the opposite.
They had their Astylinds to take charge of the front line, becoming a vanguard themselves would instead hamper their ability to command the team. Severynths were after all the conductors—they directed the Astylinds with their thoughts and controlled the battlefield. Their presence sang the loudest when they remained in the back, at least the traditional method dictated so.
As his mind took him on a tour, Orange snored on his chest. He grabbed Ewan's t-shirt with his tiny palms and drooled all over him, the wet patches from his saliva spreading away. The warm sun made Ewan drowsy too, so he closed his eyes and let go of all his worries. He preferred these relaxing days, when the growls of his stomach didn't remind him of his crisis, and the weight on his chest promised him certainty.
And with a smile on his face, he napped on the recliner.
"I hope I awaken soon…," he murmured.
...
Steaming slabs of meat surrounded him, salivating aroma of spices tingled his nose. There were different types of meat, from his favorite cut to his least liked, even the premium Astylind meat lined before him. He could never afford them with the money he had, but here they were, enticing him with their flavorsome smell. He couldn't resist anymore, and so, he grabbed the tastiest looking meat that he could reach and bit into it.
And he retched, almost vomiting everything out. It was sickening sweet, far too much, it even numbed his tongue.
The aroma of all the meat now turned into a sugary fragrance. One meat hooted at him, then another hooted twice. One by one, all the meat around him hooted like Orange.
Orange?
The thought jolted him awake, rattling the recliner's legs, as he grabbed the railing for balance. The blood-red sun had verged on the horizon, the afterglow still lingering after its departure. And the two moons, violet and silver, were already up and ready to spend the night with the Airadians.
His drool dripped down the side of his mouth while Orange lay on his chest and called him out in his childish voice. His nose twitched, the sugary smell from his dream followed him out. It was sickening sweet around him, as if someone threw kilos of powdered sugar on him.
Sweet?
He jerked up, catching Orange with his right hand. This was it, his soul awakened.