"As for Avarice, from what I can recall from his birth and what we know about him now, three of his cintracies are the mystic cintracy, Xerox, which lets him copy the cintracies of others, the temp cintracy, Auric Touch that allows him to coat anything he touches in crystalline gold, and the cintracy he copied from Tymon two centuries ago."
"What about the fourth," Za'Fia asked. "He mentioned taking another long ago."
"Sadly, I'm not sure what his fourth cintracy is," Viraa answered. "And without any clues, I can't give you a credible estimation."
"Maybe it has something to do with how he knew about you, Viraa," I suggested.
"Doubtful," she replied. "Those with the cintracies that would grant him that power are not on this planet, so he wouldn't have access to them."
"He's been sending his High Gods to spy on us," Za'Fia asserted. "That's probably how he learned about Viraa."
"Makes sense.... Well, I guess that's all we have for now. Once Tymon's up, we should inform my parents about everything," I said.
There was silence as we waited.
"Hey, what other cintracies are there," I asked Viraa.
"I'm interested to know more about where you're from, too," Za'Fia added. A welcoming breeze came by, causing a cute reaction from Za'Fia as she tried to keep her robe from flapping. It wasn't fair. Even after fighting, only wearing a robe, and with blood smudges on her face, she still looked like she belonged on the front page of a "World's Most Beautiful Women" catalog.
"There are many different cintracies – each offering abilities humans can only dream of," Viraa said. Her voice seemed reluctant as she spoke in a coy and playful tone.
She clearly had no intentions of telling us anything, so I spent most of the following hour coming up with different cintracies I bet existed.
Out of nowhere, Tymon abruptly sat forward, wide-eyed.
He looked around and then patted his body frantically, checking for wounds.
"What happened? I thought I...."
"You're fine," Za'Fia said as she hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, but I could tell he was still in shock.
When she let go, he looked her up and down.
"Why are you in a robe?" He asked, then looked down at himself. "And why is my shirt ripped opened?"
"My clothes were burnt, and I thought you were dying," Za'Fia responded candidly.
"So, I didn't die?" Tymon asked, still confused.
"Not exactly," Viraa chimed in. "You are immune to death. You were born with a mystic cintracy called Undying that prevents you from ever dying. Whether from old age or any other manner that brings you to the point of 'death,' your body heals itself and resurrects you to your prime – should you have reached it already. In a way, this grants you immortality."
Tymon flexed his hands open and closed as if to access a newly realized strength in them.
"Really," he said in a low voice. There was a barely noticeable glint of hope and satisfaction in his eye. It was quickly replaced with disappointment as he came to a sudden realization.
"This is what Avarice wanted from me," he proclaimed in a monotoned voice. "He wanted to make himself immortal; that way, death wasn't an issue when he decides to come after us."
"That explains why he's so confident," Za'Fia remarked.
"Wait, if that's the case, how did Tymon grow up in Brayton village," I asked before waving the question off. "Never mind, we can get to that later. For now, let's find Trik and head home."
I pulled out my c-chip and used it to locate Trik's. It turned out he was only a few miles away.
"I'll go get him," Za'Fia volunteered.
Before anyone could protest, she was gone. A few minutes later, she reappeared in a blur, carrying an unconscious Trik and his torn arms.
After that, we all made our way back to HQ.
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