Chapter 13: The First Collision
A/N: The vocalization of the impression of the inverse of light refreshments progresses.
The air seemed to press on Nia, blisteringly hot from the heat bleeding out through the large metal pipes criss-crossing all over the streets of Alba Cavanich.
A single bead of sweat trickled from her forehead, barely missing her eye as it trailed down her face, eventually dripping off her chin. She followed it with her eyes, and though she couldn't hear it over the busy sounds of Alba Cavanich's industry, she imagined the little drop sizzled before it evaporated a moment after hitting the stone of the street.
Looking ahead to where Lora led the way, Nia called out past the stack of sealed crates she was carrying." So, not to be rude or anything, but remind me why we're carrying these things ourselves?"
Balancing her own stack of small sealed crates, Lora glanced back at Nia. She knew Pyra and Dromarch weren't too far behind; each with their own loads, with Dromarch's strapped to his back. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Nia shifted her crates, balancing the stack temporarily on her leg to get a better grip on it, "couldn't we at least have gotten a cart or something?"
As if to emphasize her point, a quadrupedal Titan - easily two or three times Cressidus' size - passed by with huge crates strapped to its back, a small salvager crew guiding it.
"Tully said all the spares were being used by the salvagers to haul things during the bulge, but there still weren't enough to go around," Lora reminded her.
"Who was Tully, again?"
"If I remember correctly," Dromarch interjected, "he was the individual at one of the warehouses complaining about how the number of salvagers during the salvage bulge was making it difficult to keep everything moving at 'maximum efficiency'."
"Yeah, that's the one." Lora tilted her head, looking concerned. "Nia, do you need a break?"
Nia puffed out some air as another bead of sweat got hung up on her eyebrow, before rolling down her face. "Let's just keep going. By the way, these are actually the supplies, right?"
Lora chuckled. "Yep, this should be our last stop, and then it'll be job done!"
Nia made a grunt of acknowledgement. At least there was that.
It had started innocently enough.
First, they couldn't find the person in charge of the supplies, and the warehouse refused to let them take it without his permission. Finding him had been hard enough since he was outside the city, but then there had been monsters. After that things started blurring together in her memory.
As the day dragged on, it got harder to remember the chain of requests that seemed only vaguely related to what they'd been asked to do by…the Blade cook's name she couldn't remember. Korg, maybe?
How did Lora keep so chipper while doing all this busywork that had kept getting in the way of taking crates from one place to another?
She hissed as her load almost slipped from under her arm, but was saved by Dromarch putting his muzzle underneath just in time before it dropped and crashed onto the street. She looked back, seeing him carrying his own crate strapped around his body on his back. He tipped hers back up, allowing her to get better hold of the crate stamped with 'fragile' on its side.
"Careful, my lady."
"You're a lifesaver, Dromarch."
"Think nothing of it."
She called ahead to Lora. "So where did...whoever it was, want this stuff?"
"We're dropping it at Smaia's house. It's just down the end of this street, up a flight or two of stairs and the third door on the left."
"Ugh. Stairs. Great…" Even so, she trudged on. Eventually, she slowed her pace to where Pyra was trailing at the back of their little group. "Are you tired too? You're lagging behind."
Pyra blinked, seeming to come out of her own thoughts. "Huh? Oh, no. I'm just thinking."
"If you're sure. So," Nia spoke softly - though still loud enough to be heard over the bustle going on all around them from the 'salvage bulge' going on- leaning over to Pyra, "has Lora always been like this?"
"What do you mean?"
Nia glanced ahead to Lora, who was out of earshot. "Well, no offense, but she's kind of a sap. I get that she was a mercenary and getting the job done is important, but I lost track of it after the third or fourth errand we had to do before the supplier let us take the goods. Do you really think we needed to do all those extra bits?"
"Do you think we shouldn't have helped them?"
"I just can't help but feel they were taking advantage of her kindness. Thing is, If she doesn't say no, it'll be a chain of requests that'll never end."
To her surprise, that made Pyra laugh.
Nia's ear flicked in annoyance. "What's so funny?"
"It's nothing. You just...reminded me of something."
They turned onto a street where a large housing complex lay nestled in-between other more industrial buildings, and she spotted steep metal stairs. Her legs burned at the thought of going up them.
Pyra's expression twisted to something Nia didn't understand as they started the torturous ascent. "Since I've know her, she's always been very spirited. But while she was always eager to help, it's like there was a careful wall built around her."
"Really?" Seeing how she behaved today made that difficult to believe. "What do you mean?"
Pyra nodded. "When I first met her, she wasn't, well...I wouldn't call her 'reserved,' just very conscious about who she talked to."
"Well, she was always spending time looking over her shoulder so she and Jin wouldn't be caught, right?" Nia knew the feeling.
"Yeah. But after we met, Addam started breaking through that. I don't even know how intentional it was, but it was just the kind of man he was. After hearing her story, he didn't even think twice about not turning her in; a complete pardon. For Lora, it was like a burden had been lifted from her. Addam...always had that effect on people. He was incredible." She smiled. "Crying at even the slightest sob story."
Nia let out a snort, and almost tripped up the last step. She barely caught her footing again. "He sounds like a riot."
"I guess. He was also the most genuine, courageous man I ever knew." Her eyes turned downcast as they crossed the landing and started up the second set of stairs. "I wish I had the get to know him better."
"Huh?" What did that mean? Wasn't he her Driver?
Pyra seemed to snap out of her memories. "Oh, it's…nothing."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."
"No, it's fine. It has nothing to do with him. I just…" She paused as they crested the last step. "No. Never mind. It's alright. Thanks for trying to be considerate."
"Well...if you're sure."
Lora knocked on one of the doors, and Nia gladly, finally, set down the crates she carried, while Pyra helped Dromarch untie the crate on his back. Nia didn't fully care that something inside tinkled like glass as she set it down. The big, bold, red 'fragile' stamped on the sides in bold letters seemed to glare at her.
They stood there, sweating in the evening sun for a good while, but no one answered the door. She watched Lora give it another knock.
"Do you think they're just out?" Nia asked, still a little out of breath.
Lora turned to her, frowning in thought. "Gorg said Smaia has been expecting it for a week, and I checked the apartment number the supplier gave, so this should be the right place." She turned back to the door and called out, "Hellooo, Smaia? Gorg sent us here with some packages for you. Are you home?"
They waited around for a moment before - to Nia's surprise - Pyra moved up and tried the door handle, which clicked right open, unlocked. A little bit of light peaked out as she cracked open the door.
They all stiffened as a loud crash echoed outward, followed by a very manly sounding curse and the sound of fleeing footsteps. Glancing at the others, Nia opened her mouth to make a snarky remark, but before she could say anything, Lora kicked the door open the rest of the way and dashed inside, Pyra following close behind, her red sword with the Aegis' emerald core forming out of the ether.
They don't waste any time, do they?
Nia and Dromarch followed only seconds behind in their wake. She turned the corner into a cramped living space full of lab equipment just in time to see Lora cast her braided whip at a retreating cloaked figure, wrapping around and snagging their arm. They crashed to the floor in a struggling, cursing heap.
She saw another figure slip out one of the apartment's windows, dropping down out of sight. Trusting Lora and Pyra enough to be able to take care of themselves, she dashed over to the open window and caught a brief glimpse of the other figure clutching a bundle of something to their chest before they went out of sight of where she could see. Heading where, she had no clue.
Turning back, as she suspected, Lora and Pyra had easily handled the man, Lora's knee on the man's back with another part of her braided whip now wrapped around his other arm too, holding them and his legs behind his back. He whipped his head back behind him as he struggled, but the fire of Pyra's Blade weapon springing to life near his head made him still.
His cloak had slipped down on his arm, revealing a blood red tattoo in the shape of a...cloud sea creature of some sort? Nia hadn't ever seen that one before.
"That tattoo. You're part of the Bloody Lobsters," Lora accused. "Why are you here?"
The man's eyes flicked up to Lora, then over to Pyra where his eyes fixed on to the hilt of her weapon, where the crystal of the weapon mimicked her own emerald core. Nia was caught off guard when a laugh of all things escaped him.
"So the rumours are true. You really are awake again. Come to do our job for us?"
"Huh?" Confusion leaked out of Pyra's voice, and her sword lowered slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, Aegis." He shifted his mouth in a way, almost like he was picking food out of his teeth.
She felt Dromarch's affinity link flare to life. "My lady, stop him! He's about to-"
Before she could react, the man bit down hard on something, making a disgusting sounding crack, before he swallowed. She rushed to him, trying to pry his mouth open, but he kept it firmly shut. The man laughed through his nose, before he started choking, and purple foam seeped past his lips and before long, his eyes rolled into his head and he started to spasm.
As Dromarch started the flow of healing ether, didn't need Dromarch's knowledge of flora to recognize fast acting poison. The man whipped about, jerking against the bonds of Lora's braided whip. "Stay still already, I'm trying to help you."
In a death rattle, his body shuddered, then relaxed. In frustration Nia almost reached for that power, but stopped when she felt alarm from Dromarch through their affinity link. She stopped, clenched her hand into a fist as Dromarch gave her a questioning look.
She stopped herself. Was it really worth exposing herself for this? Just some crazy goon, not someone innocent or someone she cared about. Thinking about it that way helped her feel better.
After another moment, she stepped back and shook her head. "He's gone."
There was a feeling of relief mixed with a surprising twinge of disappointment that whispered through her and Dromarch's bond before he cut the link.
"Shoot." Lora started to unwind the whip, as Pyra stepped back, her weapon's flames dying as it went inert. Lora looked at her and Dromarch. "It's alright, you two. You did what you could. It was all so...sudden."
Dromarch mumbled an apology for them both while Nia's ears flattened. She could bring him back, purge the poison from his system and revitalize him, maybe make it easier to get information for them. Her own capabilities seemed to tingle just beneath the surface of her own skin.
But no. He was just a nobody, not someone she cared about.
Pyra's sword fizzled back into the ether. "I'm…" her hand hovered over where her core was hidden by the poncho, "I'm going to look around and check the house for Smaia. She might still be around."
Lora nodded encouragingly. "That's a good idea, Pyra. Maybe she'll be able to help us figure out what that was all about."
"Hopefully she isn't anything like the company she had over," Nia muttered. If she's even still alive.
"Yeah." Lora shuddered. "I don't need to see something like that again."
Silently agreeing, Nia and the others spread out through the small flat. The whole place, like the living room they started out in, was chock full of sciency-looking things, and generally was a cluttered mess. Now that she had time to pay attention, a faint, burnt metal smell permeated the air.
Parts of the place looked like they had been looted. Probably the two goons from the Bloody Lobsters ransacking it. The flat was small enough that before long Pyra called out for them to come to her.
In a small bedroom, an older woman with straight greying brown hair and thick lenses lay on the floor, stock still.
"Smaia, I'm guessing?" Nia asked.
"She matches the description of what others told us about her," Pyra confirmed.
Nia went and checked for her pulse, but could already tell by how cold her skin was that she wouldn't find anything. She looked up at Lora and sadly shook her head. "Gone for a long while, I'm afraid. I'm not sure there's anything we could have done."
Lora closed her eyes a moment and Nia could see the pain on her face. After a moment it shifted into grim resolve. "We should tell Gorg about what happened. He'll probably be devastated, but he was worried about her."
"Forgive me for holding you up, lady Lora, but..." Dromarch nosed up the sleeve on the woman's jacket. "Look."
Nia peered in with the rest of the group to look. Inked on the underside of her forearm he revealed a blood red tattoo. Though the tattoo was somewhat faded, it was the same blood red image of the cloud sea creature on the dead man's forearm in the other room.
Another one?
"Her too?" Lora echoed her thoughts.
Nia sighed, exasperated. "And now I'm just confused. Did they kill her?"
"There's no blood, so..."
"Plenty of other ways it could have happened."
Dromarch nudged her. "My lady, there's a strange smell in here."
"Whatd'ya mean?"
He padded over to a small glass cup on a small end table filled with purplish liquid. Sniffing it gently, he gagged before backing away, wiping his snout with the back of his paw.
"This is-" he coughed. "This scent is clearly that of doomsday poppy. If I remember correctly, it originates from-"
"Uraya." The words started rolling out of Nia's mouth without her thinking. "Ingest the flower's ground up seeds and it'll dull pain."
Dromarch looked over to her with surprise in his eyes. Not surprise that she knew that, but surprise that she'd said it. Lora and Pyra seemed oblivious to the context.
"Well, yes," Dromarch picked up without too much of a pause. "While the flower is often admired for its vibrant purple petals, it's grown more for its seeds. The smell is pungent when ground up, but it's often used to help manage chronic pain in small doses."
Lora let out a thoughtful hum. "I've heard about this before. Aren't there some nasty potential side effects from it?"
"Indeed," Dromarch agreed. "It is difficult to say what exactly drove her to it. Considering her age, perhaps chronic back or joint pain are possibilities. However, generally, it's the desperate who turn to it."
"I don't want to drink it, Nia. It tastes terrible."
"I know, but da' will worry if you don't."
Nia's mouth pressed into a thin line.
Dromarch's tail swished. "Regardless of the poppies, there's another faint scent that has me more worried: it's reminiscent of shadeblossom. When processed, it's colourless, and to most noses is nearly odourless. Usually used on Titan wounds, but it is extremely deadly to humans when ingested."
"Good thing we've got you around, Dromarch." Dromarch beamed at Lora's praise. "With all the equipment we've seen around, and how Gorg was describing her like a chemist, I doubt she accidentally mixed it in herself."
Nia snorted. "Yeah, pretty big mix up for something this deadly. Feels like something else fishy is going on."
"Unless...she wanted to die?" Pyra's voice came out quiet, careful.
"I...suppose suicide is a possibility." Dromarch's tone turned sombre at its mention. "However, I don't believe it is a coincidence that this woman's tattoo is the same as our 'friend' in the other room."
"Sure." Nia thought the tattoo being connected would have been obvious. "But why?"
"Well," Pyra ventured, "even though her tattoo is faded, she had to have been part of the Bloody Lobsters at some point. Maybe she left the gang?"
"Oh!" Lora eyes widened, as if remembering something. "Just like Gio! He went into hiding after he left. They didn't like it very much when they found out where he went. So this could have been some form of revenge."
Pyra nodded. "Right. Maybe our assailants knew she uses the doomsday poppies, planted a mix with shadesblossom and waited for that," she motioned to the liquid in the cup, "to finish her off, and then snuck in."
Nia's brow furrowed. "I dunno. Seems like a really elaborate way to kill an old lady."
Dromarch sat back on his haunches. "Perhaps they would rather it look like an accident than potentially lead back to them."
"But even if that's true, what did they want from her in the first place?" Lora asked.
"Perhaps they needed something in the packages we were delivering?" Dromarch suggested. "Gorg mentioned he was late delivering it to her, so they may have expected the delivery to have already arrived?"
"Or maybe she was going to make something for them? Or already made something?"
"Or she still could have been part of the gang for all we know." Nia huffed in annoyance, starting to get frustrated with all the guesswork. "It's just a mess of a guessing game at this point."
"Yeah, it feels like we're missing something or someone that would tie this together. It feels like we don't really know enough to know for sure." Lora crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. "Even if it's risky for us, for Gorg's sake, maybe we should get the authorities involved."
"Considering the bounty on Pyra, is that wise, lady Lora?" Dromarch asked.
"Hmm. That's a good point. Maybe you and Nia should do that instead?"
Dromarch turned to her. "My lady?"
"I guess we could do it." It's not like the empire had anything against her, so it would probably be fine. "Just give us the mercenary writ so they
Lora nodded, handing a folded sheet of paper to her. "Take the mercenary writ so they know why you were here. Pyra and I will go and tell Gorg the news. Once the authorities get what they need, meet us back at the inn tonight. Maybe Mikhail will know more."
"It's still not here, kid."
Azurda saw Rex snap his fingers. "Shoot. I had a good feeling about that one, too."
Their client - Mikhail as he'd named himself - glanced over from the salvage crate he was sorting through. "Don't sell yourself short. You've gotten a pretty impressive haul so far for your first time at a bulge like this."
"Thanks." Rex glanced to the evening sky and back to the gauge on his full dive suit. "I've probably got one more dive on this cylinder. It'll be the next one for sure!"
And just like that, his Driver resealed his helmet and dove off of into the cloud sea, an attached lifeline following him down into the cloud sea. Despite the setbacks, Rex was maintaining a cheery attitude through the whole thing. It didn't even feel like forced optimism.
Azurda sighed. Even so, this whole situation worried him.
It had been easier than he thought to get sanction to salvage here, especially once Rex had shown off his tag and salvager's license. He could tell Rex had eagerly accepted the salvaging job in part because it was familiar and comforting. The draw of salvaging during a salvage bulge would have been irresistible.
Of course, Azurda felt some draw to salvaging as well. Whether that was because of his Driver or something else, he wasn't sure yet.
With the way Rex's life had been going recently, he was out of his element. Though it would help them have strong allies in the fight against Torna, being coerced into joining the Ardainian Driver program obviously didn't sit well with Rex.
He looked over when Mikhail let out a laugh. "He's got spirit, that's for sure, and he's faster than I would've thought. But the quality of stuff he's bringing up varies a lot. Typical salvage bulge newbie." He shook his head and tossed away a rusted spring coil. "Almost makes me not want to go through the trouble of opening 'em."
Then there was the other part of this situation. Their client.
"You make it sound like you've experienced many of these. From what I'd gathered, weren't they rare?"
"Heh. Maybe I'm just lucky?"
"Perhaps," Azurda mused, "though I must say, most salvaging clients don't stick so close to their charges, much less work this closely with them. Are you much of a salvager yourself?"
"I've had my fair number of dives. "The blond haired man gave an easy-going smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "And what can I say? I've got a...vested interest in getting these parts."
"I suppose if Rex had a ship, he would be much the same way." There was a lull in the conversation as all three of them worked at sorting through the parts in the latest crate. No Gold Condensers yet. "You and your Blade...Cressidus, was it?"
"Yeah!" Though Azurda couldn't see the big Blade's face through the golden helm, he could practically feel his excitement. "And don't you forget it, grass man!"
Azurda raised his eyebrows, glancing back at his grassy mane. He supposed there were worse nicknames. "Yes, well, you both seem awfully well versed in the workings of salvaging."
"Heh." Mikhail ran a ran through his wavy blonde hair. "Yeah, you could say that."
"Been at it a while?"
"Longer than you've been alive I'd wager." He seemed to consider something. "By the way, Azurda, how long have you been Rex's Blade?"
"Hmm? Not long, all things considered. Why do you ask?"
The corner of one of Mikhail's mouth turned upward, a half smirk. "My guess says it can't be more than a couple weeks, maybe a month at most. Bet that knowledge that you have about salvaging is an innate skill."
Azurda hummed in thought. He hadn't thought about it too much, but Mikhail was right. He did know an awful lot about salvaging. Not that Rex seemed to notice. Perhaps it was another matter where he was similar enough to the Titan 'Gramps' that Rex hadn't noticed.
That bothered Azurda more than he cared to admit.
"Yes, that's right. It hasn't even been two weeks, and Rex and I haven't had the chance to salvage in that time. Though I must ask what gave away our recent resonance; is it truly so obvious?"
"Yeah. You and overeager salvager kid down there," he jerked a thumb down to the lifeline that trailed under the cloud sea where Rex still was, "don't feel fully in sync to me. My guess is if any other Driver worth their salt tried messing with you, you'd be krabble food."
"Really now?" Azurda bristled somewhat. "I hardly think that's fair, considering how short a time we've been resonated."
"Hey, I'm just giving you a heads up. Alrest will eat you up and spit you out if you don't learn quick enough."
Azurda raised his eyebrows. "My Driver has already seen his fair share of that, even just since the time I was awakened. He has no living relatives, and was recently involved in a terrible salvaging incident where all the crew save him perished."
"You don't say," Mikhail deadpanned.
Azurda frowned.
"Sorry if I don't sound too sympathetic. Stories like that are a gold piece a dozen nowadays, and I've been around long enough to hear a lot of them. Still, the kid's what, twelve? Thirteen?"
"Fifteen and proud of it."
There was a short pause as Mikhail let Cressidus scoop out cloud sea sludge that had built up in the crate, clearing out the rest of the parts mixed in there with it. At last he asked, not turning to Azurda, "How'd he get away?"
"He says was rescued by a Titan he called 'gramps.' The Titan died after crashing in Gormott. However, the Titan left behind a core crystal."
"You?"
Azurda nodded. "Good guess. Coincidentally enough, he and I share the same name, though Rex said that the similarities don't stop there. General appearance and voice were chief among them, but I'm told I share some personality traits with the dead Titan as well."
Something about that seemed to perk Mikhail's interest, enough that he looked at Azurda directly, scrutinizing him closely. In his eyes, something passed through so quickly he could have imagined it. Anger, sadness? Azurda couldn't tell, as a moment later it was gone, and the smile that didn't reach his eyes was back.
"So you resonated fresh from a Titan. That's rarer nowadays with how Indol runs things."
"Is that so? I've only heard a few things about the Praetorium so far. Everyone's opinions about them seem to be on a very wide spectrum."
Mikhail scoffed. "Understatement of the century. I'll bet the empire was glad to make a catch like you with how rare you are."
"I suppose that's true. The Inquisitor made me plainly aware of the rarity of the situation before she recruited Rex and I into the Ardainian Driver program."
He let out a low whistle. "Recruited by the Inquisitor herself? That's dangerous."
"So far it's worked out well enough. Rex had crucial information she was in need of. Much of it's confidential, I'm afraid."
"Is she hot?"
Azurda blinked at the sudden question. Maybe he could have a little fun. "Well, I suppose she does burn brightly with her Blade. Lady Brighid is a fire element Blade, after all."
"Wow. Clever," Mikhail deadpanned. Azurda gave him a cheeky smile and Mikhail pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.
Cressidus came up and slapped him on the back. "You set yourself up for that one, Mik."
There was a long pause before Mikhail made a noncommittal grunt and went to the next unopened crate of salvage. Azurda took the silence as an end to their conversation and went back to opening a different crate.
The metal of this particular crate was rusting and crushed at odd angles near the seal, as if someone had already tried their hand at opening it but simply got frustrated and threw it back into the cloud sea. Or a cloud sea monster, perhaps.
After considering how to tackle it, Azurda felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking back, he saw Cressidus, eyes shining behind that golden helm of his.
"Allow me."
Azurda nodded. The big Blade grabbed the crate and with his metal gauntlets, and with an almost theatrical sounding roar, wrenched the metal top off. While it wasn't the way he would have tackled it, Azurda was impressed that nothing inside spilled out from that stunt.
"Well, well my friend, that was certainly…impressive."
Cressidus proudly pounded his chest. "It's all in the meats."
"Meat, you say?"
He flexed his arms. "Protein."
"To my understanding, food intake does not affect the structure of a Blade, correct?" Azurda blinked after he said it, unsure of how he was so sure of that knowledge.
Cressidus wagged a finger. "Not how you look, but depending on how and what you eat, you can draw ether from the air easier for different uses. Protein is best for toughening you up physically and elementally, depending on the type." He pounded his fists together to emphasize the point.
Azurda leaned forward, interested. "Really now? That's fascinating."
"And even though meat's the best, it's not just meat." The Blade started sounding excited. "Veggies will help your regeneration factor; grains toughen up your ether barrier enhance. And that's just the basics – really, it's all about balance."
He noticed Mikhail roll his eyes. "Don't let meathead draw you into that or he'll never stop. If you let him, he'll go on for hours. Trust me, I'd know."
"You might have heard it before, but I think it's fascinating to learn more about this. I want to be able to protect my Driver to the best of my ability."
Mikhail snorted.
Azurda's brow furrowed. "What?"
"It doesn't really matter, and I doubt in the two weeks you've been awakened that you've had a chance to wonder about it. Still…" He trailed off before looking him directly in the eyes. "Do you ever wonder why things are the way they are?"
There was something serious in his eyes that made Azurda hesitate to answer. "What exactly do you mean?"
"Think about it. The kid is your first Driver, but he'll be far from your last. Assuming the Driver program doesn't do him in first, in sixty or so more years, Rex will die, and you'll be passed on to someone else and awakened again. But you won't remember a thing about him."
"An interesting question." Azurda stroked his stony chin. "While I suppose I cannot speak for all Blades, I believe that the time that I do have with Rex will be of benefit to him, and if I can be of service or help to even one person, this lifetime will be worth it to me."
"That's so typical for a Blade to say something like that." He waved his hand to the side dismissively. "And then you'll awaken to a new Driver with no guarantee of who they are or what they want. You might be fighting against the ideals your current Driver believes in, and you would have no idea. And it will happen again and again and again."
Azurda narrowed his eyes. "What are you implying?"
Mikhail let out a sigh and shrugged. "Not sure, to be honest. Something about the system just feels wrong. Some days, I just want to ask the Architect why, you know?"
The crane, fixed to the edge of the platform - which Mikhail had graciously bought off of another salvager for them to use - pinged from the remote on Rex's end. Azurda quickly went over and pulled the lever to lower the weighted, metal platform, not letting up until the pinging stopped.
It seemed like Rex had dived deeper than the last dives. In short order the cable went taut and he waited for another ping to start reeling it back up.
Not too much later, he watched as a grapple hooked up to the platform. A few moments later, Rex - in full salvager gear - nimbly popped up and released the latch on his helmet, taking in big lungfuls of air.
Azurda quickly went over to him, supporting his Driver. "Are you alright, Rex?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Rex responded from between panting breaths.
"Something go wrong?" Mikhail asked, curious.
"Nah, nothin' too bad." Azurda stepped back, still watching carefully as Rex wiped the sweat off his brow, and took a moment to catch his breath. "The cloud sea's a lot warmer around the Ardainian Titan than what I'm used to, so I've been going through the air cylinder a lot faster than what I'm used to. But this looked like it would be worth it, though."
The clouds bulged and the crane brought up a pristine looking crate, cloud sea sloughing off of it.
Azurda let go of the lever. "It certainly looks promising, but then again, so did some of the last ones."
Rex crossed his arms. "Well, you know what they say, 'open a chest, it might be great. Until then it's just a crate.'"
Mikhail barked out a laugh. "I haven't heard that one in ages."
Azurda could practically feel Rex light up as he rubbed his nose to try and hide a grin. "It's true, though. Anyways, I'll have to go sell some of the parts we've hauled up so far and get another air cylinder. Azurda, you stay with them and make sure they don't try anything funny."
Azurda nodded his assent and Rex quickly dashed off with some parts gathered in a sack. He turned to Mikhail, who arced a casual eyebrow at him. "I hope I won't have to make good on that promise."
The easy-going smile that didn't reach his eyes was back. "Trust me, you wouldn't be able to even if you tried."
The Ayvill Shopping District bustled with activity.
Rex weaved through the crowds of salvagers and buyers making their way through brightly-coloured tents and palanquins set up through the centre of the main market street. Nopon bounced on tall stools - which tried and often failed to put them above average height in the crowds - showing off trinkets, bolts of cloth, old looking books and most prominently, numerous salvaging.
The noise and bustle of all the salvaging trade going on around him made him beam. He still couldn't believe that despite his current situation, he'd gotten a chance to salvage during a bulge.
He'd always heard old, weather beaten salvagers boasting about them in almost worshipful tones. Describing them almost like some kind of fever dream.
It'd almost been too easy to get the sack of parts he'd slung over his shoulder. Until now, Rex had figured he'd be lucky to even experience a salvage bulge before he was old and crooked.
He couldn't wait to tell the kids back in Fonsett Village. Maybe even brag about it in a tavern someday just like those salvagers he'd listened to.
Eventually, he found a buyer, and was quickly reminded of the one part of salvaging that was always rough. He frowned at the teal-furred Nopon hopping up and down on the stool in front of him.
"Look, all I'm saying is that these should be worth way more than what you're offering." Rex lifted up a three parts. "I got these for at least three hundred gold for the set back in Argentum, and that's the lowest it's ever been."
"Is business, meh! Supply and demand. If littlepon salvager take look around him, he see all other salvagers doing the same thing. Has been going on for three days now. Need big and rare haul to bring big money. One hundred gold for set is fair for current market."
Rex groaned in frustration. This would barely get him to break even for another silver grade cylinder. But it wasn't as though he'd have much time to haggle right now, anyways. If the last haul he'd brought up didn't have the parts Mikhail was looking for, he'd have to salvage in the dark. Not impossible, just more difficult, especially without his usual setup.
"Fine. I'll take it."
The Nopon slapped the bag of gold he'd weighed out into Rex's hand, disappointingly light. "Pleasure doing business. Next!"
Taking the pitiful amount of gold for the large pile of salvage he'd forked over, he pocketed it and threw a retort over his retreating shoulder. "Don't expect me to bring my business back here!"
The Nopon didn't grace him with a response. Hopefully they were just here for the salvage bulge. If every salvage trader in Alba Cavanich was like that, he'd be in trouble.
That was the risk with taking business to new places. It'd already taken forever to find who was the best to do business with when he'd originally settled in salvaging with Argentum. At the rate he was going, he would be in Mor Ardain for a while yet, so he'd need to figure it out at some point.
Assuming he'd have any time.
From how they were putting it in the orientation, it was hard to say. Not to mention the whole bit about finding Torna. Well, whatever. At least with this he'd have the chance to do this contract before it got too crazy.
After rushing over to another shop to pick up a very price-gouged silver-grade cylinder, he started weaving through the crowd back to Hardhaigh Palace. If he got back soon enough he would have enough time before it hit curfew-
He ran smack into someone.
"Whoa!"
"Oh, sorry!" He backed away, apologizing, looking up to them.
The woman with soft, almost fluffy red hair he'd bumped into brushed off a bit of cloud sea gunk off her bright red skirt where he'd run into her.
She gave an apologetic smile. "No, it's alright." Her eyes - almost the same shade of dull gold as his - glanced down to his dog tag and the smile slipped for a moment before it returned. "I guess we were both in a bit of a hurry."
He chuckled awkwardly, pretending he hadn't noticed, as a sheepish grin accompanied his hand scratching the back of his head. "I guess so."
His eyes flicked to another woman wearing a black poncho who slightly behind her. Bright red hair peeked out of the hood, and he caught sight of deep red eyes blinking at him curiously as she tilted her head.
Wow, she was really...pretty.
Hold on. Do I...know her from somewhere?
She smiled brightly at him and his cheeks flushed as he averted his eyes.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I, um, wasn't watching where I was going, either." He started walking past them, and turned around to wave. "I've gotta get going, but have a good day!"
The woman with the poncho waved at him cheerfully while the other waved less enthusiastically, seeming somewhat bemused. After a moment, they turned and continued on their way and before long they disappeared into the throng.
He kept walking backwards for a moment before he hit a Gormotti man who wasn't so nice about being bumped into.
He apologized again, and heard something like "stinkin' Ardainian brat,'' as they stalked away. But he was too lost in his own thoughts to really pay attention, much less correct him like he normally would.
His feet kept carrying him back to the salvaging point, but eventually he stopped when the tide of people thinned by the local message board in the central plaza. He folded his arms, thinking. It kept eating away at him for some reason. Where had he seen her before? The guild? Gormott? Leftheria? Maybe one of the smaller outlying Titans?
"You'd better be careful not to take too much on at once."
"Huh?" He looked over to see a young Gormotti man step up beside him. He had similar military fatigues on like his. Slung over his back was a Blade weapon - a megalance if he remembered right - and beside him a rather plain looking Blade.
"Rex-rex wallet empty too?" Beside the Gormotti, Tora and Poppi meandered up with him. "Should have told Tora; wouldn't have asked fellow brokepon for money. Is against code of honour."
"Oh, Tora! And you're, uh…" Rex trailed off awkwardly.
The Gormotti smiled easily. "Jac." He gestured to the Blade beside him. "And this is Yachik. Don't feel bad about not remembering me. I was recruited on the last day before the special Inquisitor came back to the empire, but I think I saw you cleaning up the destroyed cell block in Torigoth."
The memory flashed into his mind. "Oh, yeah! That was a rough clean-up. It was amazing no one died from that."
"Tora already said sorry for that. Should be water under bridge."
Rex snorted. "You also didn't have to clean it up."
Poppi bowed in a very prim, if somewhat stiff way. "Poppi not sorry for rescuing Masterpon, but very sorry about damage."
"Nah, it's fine, Tora, Poppi." Rex put his hands on his hips. "Just try not to do it again like that, especially since you're working with the empire right now."
Poppi bobbed her head. "Poppi will do her best to keep her promise!"
Rex smiled. "That's good." He turned back to Jac. "So how'd you meet these two, anyways?"
Jac shrugged. "I met them briefly on the ride from Torigoth. Then they found me again in the city and sort...of latched on to me while Yachik and I were looking around. They're, uh…interesting."
"Tora chooses to take that as compliment."
He gave Rex a look that said 'see what I mean?' "Anyways, it was Rex, right?"
"Yeah. You're one of the Driver recruits too?"
"Yup." Jac nodded. "There are a lot of rumours flying around about you. I gotta ask though, is it true that you were recruited by the Special Inquisitor herself? I heard you impressed her after you fended off scores of monsters, bandits and Blades all before you even resonated. That she was so impressed that she gave you a treasured Blade of the empire."
"Er, most of that isn't true." Were there really rumours like that about him? "I mean, I did fight some core crystal hunters, but the rest of it's not true. It was a coincidence that Morag, uh, I mean, the Special Inquisitor, were even in the same place."
Jac's Blade shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I told it wouldn't be that impressive, Jac."
"Why do you ask?"
"Yachik insisted that I should hear it from the source. But it's still pretty cool to me." Jac turned over to glancing at the board, his eyes stopped on something and he frowned. "So were you looking for a little extra gold, too? I was hoping I might be able to send some home."
"You've got family back home?"
Jac's eyes lit up. "My mam and little siblings. You?"
Rex pounded his chest proudly. "The whole of Fonsett's relying on me. I'm trying to help the kids them get the tuition for school in Indol, so was in the middle of a salvaging job."
"Wow, that's impressive. I've always shied away from salvagers, but good on you, I guess."
Rex laughed easily. "We're a rowdy lot, but we're not too bad."
"Sure..." Jac tilted his head. "So, Fonsett? Where's that? Uraya?"
Rex's shoulders slumped. "No, no, it's in the Leftherian Archipelago."
"Oh, uh. I've never heard of it, sorry. Before this, I'd never been off Gormott, you know." His eyes flicked back to the board and shook his head. "It's crazy what they're saying."
"What is it?"
He gestured to a large public announcement from Emperor Niall smack in the middle of the board. "They're saying the Aegis is back." He shuddered. "I hope I never end up having to fight them. Even though I'm a Driver now, that's a whole different level."
"Tora heard Aegis powerful enough to slay Titans! Even with teamwork of Tora and dadapon Tatazo, would be hard pressed to give Poppi power to match that."
"Masterpon, Poppi wouldn't want to do that."
"No, no. Not that Poppi would, just that Tora wonders if it possible to replicate it. Scientific curiosity."
"The Aegis…" Rex muttered.
Wait.
His heart dropped in his chest. Torna, the ship, the sword, the girl in the capsule.
The girl with red hair. She was wearing a black poncho over it, but he was dead sure if she wasn't, there would be an emerald core crystal on her sternum.
That was her, but she was awake.
Titan's foot!
He spun around, but there was almost no way he was going to be able to find those two again in this crowd.
"Is Rex-rex alright?" Tora asked, sounding worried at his sudden change. "Maybe lost wallet?"
He spun back to face Jac and Tora. "You two need to go back to base, quick. I'll catch up with you. There's something bad."
"What is it?" Jac asked, glancing around nervously.
"I saw her earlier, just a few minutes ago. The Aegis. She's here, right now, in the city."
Tora hopped back in surprise, headwings spreading wide. "Is Rex-rex sure?"
"Positive. I've seen her before."
Jac paled, ears flattening, while Poppi started flapping her arms up and down. He wasn't sure what that part was about, but chose to ignore it for now. "Then we need to tell someone."
"Poppi is ready to go, Masterpon! Can use jet boosters to get there faster."
"No, don't cause a panic," Rex insisted. "Just quickly go back to the base and I'll meet you there."
Rex dashed off. If the Aegis was here now…
His mind flashed back to the woman with soft red hair traveling with her. That meant Torna was here, too.
A/N: The protagonists collide.
Literally.