Chapter 47-Soma

"Good. Now get going," she commanded while turning her back on Tasim, re-robing herself.

Tasim turned around, ready to walk away, but remembered something, and as he turned back, no one was there. The woman named Emma had already disappeared, and it sent a chill down his spine.

Tasim cast aside his thoughts and walked back inside the city, going straight to the Tanner's Market, the most crowded market he had ever seen.

The central path leading down the market headed west, allowing a picture-perfect view of Sol, which cast an orange hue upon the stone street. It was a sight to behold. Stalls sat with lines of people waiting to shop; some simply window-shopped, while others seemed to buy an entire shop's stock, allowing the vendor to leave.

The people filling up Tanner's Market each had a gleeful expression, bright clothing, and were beautiful. Not a single person here was hideous; each seemed captivating enough to be a noble.

Tasim didn't stare too long at any one person, man or woman, especially not wanting to draw attention. He just walked down the central pathway and found many stalls that he wanted to visit. He currently had a lot of coin; despite this, he didn't want to spend it just yet.

He found himself drawn to a magical shop full of potions: some were harmful and deadly, while others restored life to those who ingested them, and some were just interesting.

It was a shabby-looking stall with four sticks holding up a blue fabric tarp, which looked as though it would fall over from just a gust of wind. But below the tarp was a single chest and a man sitting in front of it; he was an elderly-looking man with a grey beard that hung to his chest, tied in three separate knots that were held in place with gold rings, each having gold runes engraved upon them. He emitted an almost overwhelming presence that stunned Tasim the moment they locked eyes.

"Hello, boy."

"Hello, sir."

"It's Myrrik. What do you want?"

He felt a cold sweat come over him. "What do you sell?"

The man tossed a sign on the ground in front of Tasim and crossed his legs.

The man then stood and turned out to be much shorter than he anticipated, around one hundred and forty centimeters (4'5").

He looked down at the man, sweat beading on his forehead. What the hell is happening to me?'

"Hurry up and tell me what you want. I don't have long; I need to go to Havefard soon."

Tasim rushed, looking over the wooden sign that lay beneath him. He reached into his pocket, knowing he was about to spend one platinum, and gripped it firmly — a little too firmly — which caused a slight pulse to radiate from his hand.

"I would like two stamina draught potions, three good mana potions, one greater healing potion, one nightvision elixir, one minor poison cure, and one major poison cure."

"Two platinum."

'He struggled to pull out one more platinum, accidentally pouring out a lot of his current fortune.'

"You shouldn't carry around so much money, or else someone might try to steal some. He said, glancing at the platinum on the ground with an unreadable expression."

"S-sorry." He stammered.

He rushed to pick up the pile of coins, pocketing everything once more, except for two coins.

"Now payment."

"Y-yes." He put the two coins in the man's hand, his face now full of sweat.

'I need to leave.'

The man, continuing to look at Tasim, blinked. As he did, a hand erupted from the earth made of dirt, and opened the chest, reaching into an abyss-sized interior. The hand eventually came back out, carrying each potion that Tasim had requested, and then it presented them on the thirty-centimeter-wide hand (one ft).

"Now leave. Boy." He demanded in a serious tone. "I don't serve mages who aren't earth mages more than once."

Tasim, feeling the extreme pressure surrounding him increase, quickly grabbed the potions and backed away.

The man lowered his gaze and looked toward his fist, his veins bulging obscenely. The moment Myrrik looked away, Tasim felt strength once again. Despite his sweaty condition, he could move once more without a problem. With this newfound strength, he rushed off, choosing not to interact with the man he had just spoken with.

Behind him, Myrrik conjured stone from the earth, which slowly developed into a full-fledged table. Once it had formed, it showed a map of the surrounding area, and in the center was Havefard.

'The home of fire mages. I can't wait to get my hands on it.'

He clenched his fist tightly, then slammed it onto the stone table, and it shattered beneath the weight, causing all around to glare at him. In this moment, it was best not to know who he was; if they did, many would flock to him, and that annoyance would eventually cause him to invoke his wrath upon Stansey.

Tasim still had cold sweat pouring down his face despite gaining his strength back.

'Who is Myrrik? Who could emit such an overwhelming presence?'

Tasim had always been a lonely boy after losing his sister; he became cold and distant, and through this, he had never once run into someone truly powerful, someone who could kill with just a look, but now he did. And it invoked a feeling he had never felt before: powerlessness. If the man known as Myrrik wished him dead, he would be unable to fight back, and that scared him, just as the dark, ominous figure who came to him in the night did.

'Why is this all happening as of late? What changed?'

Tasim looked once again, pulled out the piece of paper that the crow had once given him, and began to read his previous order.

:
Coiled Tithe has ordered you, Tasim the One-Winged, to save a merchant on the outskirts of the town known as Stansey. The merchant is being held captive by a group of four rival merchants who want to sell him off. Rescue him by any means necessary. A map can be purchased in East Havefard.

'Whatever, I don't need to think about that anymore; I'm done with it.' He then crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it.

Deciding he would like to leave at last, he found his way to a traveling merchant who was at Greengate, the entrance through which Tasim had entered this ghastly town.

Tasim stopped the merchant, who was an elderly man with terrible posture. His voice shook as he talked.

"H-Hello, sunny boy."

"May I have a ride to Macketon?"

"Y-yes, son, one platinum." He wavered.

Tasim reeled back at the price, but he would be willing to pay even more if it shortened the trip.

"Would you take me through the forest for two?"

"Of course, sunny." His voice shook again.

Tasim then set two platinum coins, which were more than he ever thought he would need to pay for travel, onto the carriage and hopped into the back.

Meanwhile, back in Haveford.

"We are due east. We will make our way to a neighboring town that has a teleportation gate," Father announced as he stood.

***

Over the next week, the party made its way east toward a new city in hopes of information, while Tasim went the opposite way—west—in hopes of new power.

Overhead, the clouds were gloomy, threatening to pour at any moment, while in the distance, thunder clapped, causing loud booms to echo through the forest.

Tasim and the elderly man made camp in the middle of the forest, using a tent the man lugged around in the carriage as a camp. Meanwhile, Tasim gathered wood, readying a fire, while staying completely silent, letting the other man talk, his voice no longer the shaking, elderly one he seemed to be.

"What's your name, son?"

"Tasim. I don't care what you call me, either. I just need to get to a dungeon."

"Oh? How interesting. What brand are you, youngster?"

"What's that?"

The man sighed as he started a fire, a blaze reflected in his eyes.

"Oh, son, are you unmarked, branded, a vessel, Replete, or higher?"

"How do you know what that is?"

"It should be obvious; I'm Replete. Now answer, son, what brand are you?"

"Vessel. What does it mean?"

"Oh, nothing. You will find out one day. Dungeons are scary, son; be careful. You may not find many who are branded, but if you do, they will be powerful."

"I will be fine."

"Are you strong enough to defeat Myrrik, Malrek Thayne, or Kai Thalen?"

Tasim froze like a stone as he heard the name 'Myrrik,' and it sent chills down his spine, thinking back to that monster he met while buying potions. That man held otherworldly power; he could sense it. That man could wipe out armies alone, even kingdoms; he wouldn't stand a chance against him. Despite the chilly conditions, Tasim began to sweat and feel his body enter a fight-or-flight mode, even though they were currently safe.

"I see, you met one of those three. Then you know their power."

"Who are they?" He asked as he took off his overcoat, revealing the shirt that had the Rod of Asclepius, one snake with no wings, wrapped around a staff.

"The Seven Savants, the most powerful recognized mages, earn their name through deeds, recognition, and their own power. Of course, more powerful people live, though they are not recognized or known. Now, you know the true power of the branded." The man looked at Tasim's shirt, raising an eyebrow. "Even the leader of the organization you belong to, he is thought to be one of the most powerful people alive, though it is not known if it is through branding, soma, or something else?"

"What is soma?"

"It's one of the four powers humans use to grow. How do you not know this, son?"

"What are the four powers?" He asked while sitting down on a log.

"The Mana Core, usually only trained for mages, Soma, a body refinement that is for all, Branding, which is grown through conquering dungeons, and Resonance, used by Swordsmen or anyone who uses a weapon as an extension of their body."

"Okay, what is soma? How do I train it?"

"It will grow naturally, son. But I will tell you this. Most don't even become Tempered, the second tier above mortal. You must face many, many life-or-death situations to grow. I can say with certainty that at least 65% of the world is still mortal. I am only Tempered. Now sleep, boy, I can stay awake for many days at a time."

Tasim stared blankly at the man and asked bluntly.

"What soma do you think Myrrik is?"

"I see, that is the one you met. He hates anyone who doesn't know earth magic, so much so, he threatened to destroy an entire city for holding a fire festival and thinking it to be the greatest magic."

Tasim felt his heart skip a beat as he realized what just happened at Haveford, but he pushed his dark thoughts aside.

"What soma is Myrrik?"

"I believe it to be called Forged. The third tier."

"Only the third?"

"Don't assume that to be weakness, boy. A Forged could rip trees out of the ground if they wished it. If Myrrik wished, during your encounter, he could have snapped your neck like it was a twig, or for him, a mortal human bone. First, he would sink your feet into the ground while mud snaked up your skin, solidifying into dirt, and he would transmute it to stone. Once you were trapped, he could do whatever he wished."

Tasim felt his heart racing, his cheeks burning as he thought about such a thing. What human Mortal could just break stone? He sure couldn't. And for Myrrik being a Savant, he could do all this within mere moments, and Tasim wouldn't have a chance to even react.