“Ma’am, we really need to question him,” said another officer. Almarine took the man in a single hand by the throat, and threw him across the room. Arson watched as another officer was removed from their path and winced in the moment their body collided and flipped over a desk. Almarine, please, we just want to talk to the boy,” said Winter. The man kept an obvious distance from his angered ex-wife. Arson didn’t know that his Orphan mother was limited by the power she gave to the habitat core within the orphanage, but wouldn’t have known the limitation to be real as she easily handled the men and women around her. “You put one of my charges at risk, and now feel entitled to keep him here, no!” Arson was forced to climb over a man holding a riot shield after Almarine slammed him overhead onto his neck. Commander Savage tried to restrain Almarine with a gravitational mana that weighed down everything in the area, but Almarine’s rage fueled her in a way that made her every moment seem unaffected. Arson watched as Almarine kicked an officer who approached from her side without looking. The woman was sent through a wall, that Arson only saw was multiple walls after he was forced to climb over the remnants of the once standing room. Large holes seen becoming smaller and smaller the farther they got away from where the woman had originally been kicked. After a few more examples were made, Arson was convinced that maybe he should have just asked Almarine how to become a cultivator. Then a definite confirmation was given when their exit portal was in sight and Winter closed it before they could enter the gateway that led back to the orphanage. “Winter!” The glare that was sent over her shoulder carried a weight that knocked Arson off his feet. Moved every desk and individual nearby back a handful of yards and even sent a flying woman hurdling off course through the air. Arson performed a kip up and looked around after he shook his head to clear the sensation of a spinning room from his mind. The eyes in the room all widened and focused on Almarine. The woman’s glow was a pearlescent silver that would have reminded Arson of the sun because of how intense the light was, but instead filled him with a pull that made him feel as if he stood on the shoreline affected by the draw of the moon. He’d only been to the beach near the orphanage once with Almarine as a baby, but the sensation he felt was indescribably similar. The only difference was not the beauty of the sight, more the feeling of impending doom that suffocated all there. “Sergeant Winter, open the portal and let them go,” said Commander Savage as blood started to trickle from all of their noses, Arson included. Arson wobbled, and Almarine’s power flickered out when she saw him a blink away from toppling over. She scooped the toddler up in the next instant and stared Winter down until he nodded to himself, confirming a belief he’d built in the back of his mind since he saw that Almarine was hosting the treasure hunt. He knew, and she knew that he knew. The portal to home peeled reality, folding it back onto itself until Almarine’s public office was once again visible. Almarine wiped Arson’s face while she stepped through; not giving a single look back at the bewildered group of employees hired by the CityNation. The portal closed, and Almarine held him in her arms, while he hugged her back. “I’m sorry, Momma Almarine, I didn’t think that exploring in there was going to be a bad thing, just a lucky opportunity, I’d never seen a portal before,” said Arson, finally leaning back enough to look at Almarine. Her eyes were closed and she breathed deeply before she responded. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to explore the unseen, just know that some places are seen to be off limits to most people.” The information was digested and Arson made another decision for himself that would also change his life. “Then I must become a Keeper like Momma Almarine, they didn’t mind you going into the weird crystal room to come get me,” said Arson with a customary solitary nod. The orphan mother’s eyes opened wide and she scoffed. “Though my position is respected in some circles, child, it is not solely because I am a Keeper of land, it is because…” “I know I must become a strong cultivator like you as well, Momma Almarine. I will make you proud, I promise.” Tears were once again in the woman’s eyes, the feeling of pride for Arson she already had in the baby boy enough to make her cry in that moment. “You need do no such thing to make me proud child, just become what you feel you are meant to be.” Arson once again thought to himself before he smiled wide. “I would love to be just like you, Momma Almarine, nothing would make me happier.” Almarine’s face shifted from happiness to sad, to a distant darkness that took her from the moment entirely, and the woman put him down, and remained silent from that point on, until Arson gave his farewell and headed off to lunch. The rest of the day for Arson was odd. Almarine wasn’t herself. She seemed agitated with everyone to the point that after his time with Xani, she prompted him to stay with her for dinner with Rob, a girl named Jasmine, and Khalif. None of them knew what had happened, but all knew that Almarine wasn’t in a mental state to be bothered. There were occasions where the woman was in a fight for her life against a long lived depression, and none of her charges did anything but remain supportive whilst she felt the way she sometimes did. Regardless, the energy within the orphanage was at an all time high. Many of the orphans had already found hidden items that Almarine had hidden to lure young cultivators away from what she’d chosen to reveal to Arson. Potions, minor artifacts, and even weapons had already been found, and countless more items were yet to be discovered. Arson’s mind was on none of these wonderful treasures. Instead he wondered if Almarine still wore the face of anger that filled him with fear. The same face that made men and woman bleed all around him. Made him bleed. Arson wondered if he could ever become strong enough to protect Almarine. The only way he knew of that could give him the potential to do so, was to become a cultivator. He found himself on a path toward a room that he’d been given, in hopes that he would find Almarine. The person who had spoken to him for as long as he could remember, every night without fail. When he arrived he entered and smiled at the woman, until she turned around. “Are you okay, Momma Almarine?” asked Arson. His heart hurt at the tears he saw on her face, and after a few swipes at her own face they were gone. “Yes child,” said Almarine. Arson contemplated his question, before he gained the courage to ask. His primary influence on what would receive a good response, how she spoke during their exit from the Graveyard precinct. If it worked for Momma Almarine, maybe it will work for me? “Good, then you can teach me how to become a cultivator, just like you.” The question was not a question but a direct command. Not understanding the dynamic of power or control, the attempt fell short, but still surprised Almarine. “No, Arson, I cannot, but I believe in you for many reasons child, you will see why in time, but for now, things will seem foreign without guidance, so I will give you a hint, and give you a little bit of a hint for tomorrow before I have you ask me your questions from today.” “No thank you, hints often make me overthink things, can we begin with today’s questions instead?” “Hmm, I suppose, child, remember that you have a time limit, this is only until the sunrises,” said Almarine with a contemplative look away from Arson. He began with a ferocity she’d never experienced before. “You said you believed in me, why?” Arson stared the woman down, and in that moment both knew that he was awake, mentally aware of self, and even as a toddler had become capable of focus. Almarine returned his stare after the weight of how the question was asked hit her once more. “To answer you, I will ask you questions first to show you why, rather than just state reasons.” Arson understood what she’d said and returned a nod, and she continued. “When is the last time you slept, Arson?” He thought to himself for a moment and responded. “A fortnight, no two fortnights,” said Arson. “How often do you see others sleep,” asked Almarine. “Everybody sleeps every night, except Xani, I don’t know if she sleeps,” said Arson. To which Almarine gave another nod before she furthered her explanation. “This reason alone is enough to give me absolute faith in you, while your peers aren’t fed enough naturally by the realm to stay awake, or not have a need for sleep at all, your body shows signs of what is called Elemental-synthesis, or mana assimilation, which are glorified ways of saying that your pores accept nutrient from many different types of mana simultaneously,” answered Almarine. “What’s so special about not sleeping?” Arson honestly felt that this alone wasn’t enough to cause him to celebrate. “Time is both what your enemies seek and what they need, you have been given time that they will need to sleep, rest, while you learn and grow.” “Oh, I guess that is why Xani doesn’t sleep,” said Arson. He often watched the girl tinker with the inscription and etching of runes. Viewing her practice another habit Arson formed early in the morning after his nightly conversations with Almarine. “Indeed, but do not discuss that with others” said Almarine, and this was their pattern. Only the once aimless questions were filled with drive and direction now. Arson becoming more and more understanding of the limits of what Almarine could share, and could not share. “Can I still receive the hint you offered me last night?” The son peeked through the windows on the horizon and Arson had changed his mind in regards to what had been offered, and Almarine wondered if she even needed to give the boy any kind of hints, and decided to give him the answer that she’d given when anyone else had asked for assistance. “Look in the places that everyone would overlook,” said Almarine. Arson stopped pacing in the center of the room. Turned to bow in Almarine’s direction, and smiled. “Thank you Momma, Almarine, growth and grace.” “Growth and grace, my child…” … “Today we gather to give all future cultivators what they may need to start down the path of cultivation fully and outright,” said Almarine. Her voice boomed across a crowd 25 thousand strong. The words so powerful they managed to reach Arson atop the orphanage roof. Arson didn’t listen to the commencement speech. He instead paced on the highest point he could find and thought about Almarine's hint. He analyzed the words to such a degree it pulled him so far away from what Almarine had actually meant. That he lucked into something even more grand than what the orphan mother had hoped he would find. “Something that everyone would overlook?” The question took over Arson’s mind on a loop, to the point he started to list off things that he believed was overlooked. “No just because I can’t go into the girls bathroom doesn’t mean that it is overlooked, all the girls go in them.” “Nah, can’t be the caves, Xani said that that was more than obvious, and that we could probably die in there.” After most of the morning passed, others visited him showing him what they’d found. Xani managed to find the scraps of a tattered runic cloth. While Khalif found a knife he named void taster, a name that made Arson laugh every time he heard it to Khalif’s annoyance. Then Arson started to think about what he noticed those around him ignored the most. Xani hated to clean up her metal scrapings after long sessions of inscribing. While Khalif always talked about how he hated to do his laundry, without fail every time his section of the orphanage was on the schedule for the chore. Then he remembered how Rob hated to take out the kitchen scraps, and how he used to hate to take out the trash until he worked out a deal with Rob to take out his trash for pastries. Arson froze on the roof and turned slowly toward the mountains of trash that could be seen in the distance. Then back toward the single mountain of trash, that was rarely picked up by waste control. “The trash…” This was something definitely overlooked. It was also exactly where anyone brave enough to search its contents would be rewarded unlike any other. In Almarine's desperate attempt to draw a map that she could lead Arson to, she’d thrown away many attempts at the map she completed and left within a destroyed building. “A map to a hidden garden, with a weapon, scrapped. A map that did indeed lead to a legacy nexus, within the tallest tree held inside the orphanage grounds, scrapped. Even, a map that led to a hot spring, that increased different aspects of the body, scrapped. The woman didn’t know what he needed, so had nearly drawn every potential boon she’d found on the grounds since becoming a Keeper of the orphanage. Her own trash had been taken out many times that day, led lined bags filled with treasure maps and secrets. Lost to time, until one person had been taken literally. A piece of advice that would always draw him to what was considered to be overlooked. “Looks like I’m going to need some gloves.”
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