Chapter 43: Cool Bugs Facts for 500

Asher couldn't ignore the raw ache in his arms or the searing burn that flared in his hands with every movement.

His breath came in ragged bursts, each one more labored than the last, but he pushed forward regardless.

Tightening his grip on the hoe, he forced his trembling legs to carry him into the row of soil, determined to make some headway. He dug deep, putting all his weight into the task, hoping for some sign that the soil was giving way.

But the earth was stubborn, refusing to loosen easily. It stubbornly adhered to the hoe. He struck again and again, but each motion felt sluggish, his body too tired to keep up with his intentions.

Cynthia's voice broke through his dazed focus, gentler this time but still firm.

"Asher, stop for a second," she said, stepping closer. "You're putting too much strain on yourself. Take a breath and let's fix your form."

He straightened up reluctantly, feeling the full weight of his exhaustion as he looked at her.

"Here," she said, demonstrating by gripping the hoe in her hands. "Keep your back straighter and let your legs do more of the work. Like this."

She struck the earth with a precise motion, her movements fluid and practiced. "You'll tire yourself out less if you don't fight it."

Asher sighed and mimicked her, adjusting his stance. The change felt awkward at first, but as he followed her rhythm, the work became marginally easier.

"That's it," Cynthia said with a small nod, her voice laced with encouragement. "You're getting the hang of it. You don't have to go fast—just steady."

He gritted his teeth, pushing through another few strikes before his body gave out.

Exhaustion hit him like a wave, sweeping his legs out from under him.

Asher collapsed onto his back, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he struggled to summon even a shred of energy.

The freshly turned soil filled the air with a bitter, yet strangely calming scent, mingling with the sharp sting of sweat.

To his right, Kaspar flopped onto the ground with a groan, his arms splayed out in defeat.

Cynthia didn't scold them this time. Instead, she knelt down nearby, her expression softening.

"You two've been pushing yourselves awfully hard," she said, her tone quiet but steady. "It may seem like the earth is working against you, but strength isn't the only factor. It's about patience. You're not just fighting the soil; you're working with it."

Asher stared up at the darkening sky, his body sinking deeper into the dirt. His arms felt like lead, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides.

Cynthia offered a faint smile, as if sensing his thoughts. "It's not easy work. But you've done more than you think."

She extended the strength-enhancing stick toward him, her voice softening further. "Here. This might help you get back on your feet."

Asher hesitated before accepting it, using the stick to brace himself.

After a moment's effort, he sank back into the earth's embrace, deciding to remain where he was.

Behind them, Kaspar's snoring broke the silence, prompting a faint twitch at the corner of Cynthia's mouth—a hint of a smile—as she turned her attention back to Asher.

"Well, at least someone's managing to relax," she murmured, her tone light, before meeting Asher's gaze.

"Take a moment to catch your breath. Victor should be calling us in soon, and we'll call it a day. You've earned the rest."

Asher gave her a weak nod, the weight of her encouragement lifting his spirits, even if his battered body remained rooted in the soil.

Cynthia's gaze sharpened, watching him carefully, her words drifting over like the rustling of leaves.

"You know, I've known Kaspar a long while," she said, her voice steady yet contemplative. "I worry about what's troubling him, though he'll never admit it. He's never been the easiest to deal with, but there's always more going on beneath the surface."

She paused, glancing at Kaspar, who remained sprawled out and oblivious. A faint smile tugged at her lips before she looked back at Asher. "You've spent some time with him now, haven't you? I'd like to hear your take."

Caught off guard, Asher blinked. "My take? On him?"

Cynthia nodded, pulling a small journal from her pocket and flipping it open. "Kaspar can be... complicated. I'm curious—how do you manage to deal with him? He really doesn't make it easy on anyone."

Asher shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to Kaspar. After a moment, he stammered, "Honestly, he's a pain. But... he's not all bad."

He hesitated, glancing at Cynthia before continuing, his voice quieter but sincere. "He's unpredictable, yeah, but there's something about him. He's... competent in his own way. He just shows it differently than most."

Cynthia tilted her head, clearly intrigued. "Competent, huh? That's not a descriptor I'd expect."

Asher shrugged, the motion weary. "He's more independent than you make him out to be. And... well, he's good to have around, in his own way."

Cynthia visibly swallowed, caught off guard by his answer. Her throat bobbed slightly before she glanced down at her journal. "Oh—well… that's something to chew on."

Flipping a page, she recovered quickly. "Anyway, next question."

She ran a finger along the page. "Ah, here it is. Be honest—I know almost nothing about you apart from those church grocery runs a few weeks back."

"What's your story?"

Asher's demeanor began to shift uncontrollably as he tried to hold back a chuckle.

This past month's been one strange roller coaster—bears, vampires, magic prosthetics, a sick world with an archaic system reliant on "indentured servants".

What's there not to talk about?

"Well, to start off, before the cave I was—"

"I was uhhhh."

Why can't I come up with anything specific?

Asher's thoughts jumbled as he tried to focus.

If I organize this…

I was on a planet named Earth.

I lived in a democratic 21st-century society.

I had a job, I think.

What was it again? IT? No, more like HR… Sales?

"Hello?"

Bah! Why is my memory so fuzzy?

I'm Asher… no? Asher Jewel.

AJ.

Tall A.

What is up with my memory right now?

"HELLO!"

Asher snapped out of his daze, startled to find Cynthia leaning much closer than before. She flicked his forehead lightly, her expression caught between jest and mild concern.

"Glad to see you're back from that trance," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Seems like you don't want to talk about your past, which is fine."

Cynthia plopped down onto the freshly turned soil, a small cloud of dust puffing up around her.

They both waved away the pungent cloud before she continued.

"If you want to keep up this mysterious guy act, be my guest. But could you at least tell me when you joined the church?"

Asher took a moment to recollect his thoughts. "Well, you probably know Samantha. She saved me a bit over a month ago and, shortly after, dropped me off at the church to get me out of her hair. From there, it's been a bunch of weird, terrifying stuff, and now… I'm here."

Cynthia sighed, shaking her head as she tapped her journal with a finger. "That told me basically nothing. I swear, trying to get information out of you is like pulling teeth."

She glanced down, quickly skimming through her journal. "Alright, let's try this. One last set of questions, then I'll leave you alone for a bit."

Cynthia looked up, her tone casual but curious. "What animal do you fear the most?"

Asher didn't even hesitate. "Bears."

A wry smile tugged at Cynthia's lips. "Let's say you were in a situation with a bear—this time, Kaspar's the one in trouble. Would you step up to fight it for him?"

Asher froze for a moment, his mind flashing back to his earlier encounter with the bears. The fear, the helplessness—it all came rushing back. His throat went dry, and he swallowed hard, trying to push down the memories that rose to the surface.

After a beat, he finally spoke, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

"I was quite recently in a situation like that," he said slowly. "And though I can't specify the details, Kaspar would not... but yes, I would."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the response. "What's that supposed to mean?" she pressed, her tone laced with curiosity.

Asher gave a nonchalant shrug, waving off her question. "I told you, I can't explain it. It's just... complicated."

Cynthia stared at him for a moment, frustration flickering across her face, but she didn't push further. Instead, she exhaled sharply.

"Alright," she said after a pause. "Trying this hard to be mysterious isn't as cool as you might think."

Asher blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness.

She gave him a pointed look before continuing. "However this conversation has shown you're not as distant as you like to act. So, I guess... I can accept you as his friend."

Asher stood there for a second, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief. He hadn't quite processed what had just happened. He thought this whole thing was some kind of interrogation—trying to get him to crack or spill his secrets—but instead, this was just some orientation?

Asher blinked a few more times, still processing the unexpected turn. "Wait... is that what this whole conversation was about?"

His voice carried a hint of disbelief. "I thought you were grilling me for some deeper reason. In the back of my mind, I came up with some considerably worse conclusions."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "Worse conclusions? What do you mean by that?"

Asher quickly waved a hand, dismissing the thought. "It's nothing. Forget it."

He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "Really, it's not important."

Cynthia stared at him for a moment, then groaned in annoyance. "You're impossible. Seriously, what is it with you?"

Asher gave her a half-grin, half-embarrassed look. "I told you, it's complicated."