Fifteen minutes later, Sylves is feeling a lot better. She’s still a bit woozy, but I’ve managed to neutralize most of the poison.

[Biological Restoration 22 > 23]

There was a lot of trial and error involved with that. Poisons are troublesome to deal with, since each of them interacts with the body so differently. I leaned heavily on[Intuition], intertwining it with my archive to search for solutions. Jean’s healing skill serves as a major source of inspiration, amusingly.

I can also feel a level approaching for the skill. [Intuition] is sitting at the breaking point, just ahead of the first threshold, and this could have tipped it over the edge, but I try to hold it back. Restrain it. There’s a plan slowly taking shape in my head, something I want to try, so I keep the skill below where it could go, while still practicing my mastery of it.

[Suppression 28 > 29]

The mindset of holding back seems to be good for my highest skill, too. 

Sylves smiles at me, brushing some hair from my face gently, as she whispers. “Thanks,” she says, and I feel a bit of fairy magic coiling around the word. 

With a small giggle, I wave it away. “No debt between friends,” I tell her. She looks aghast for a moment that I’d discovered her little trick, then puts on a pout. Sylves is silly like that. She feels she owes me for being her friend. For caring about her. Maybe, someday, she’ll learn to love herself, too.

“The person who stabbed me,” she starts, but I hold up a hand.

“Let’s wait. Just a little bit. Until the others are here.”

That makes her smile a little again, and she nods. Then, we settle into companionable silence. I look at her, and she looks back at me, and with a soft sigh, I pull out my phone. Its battery is hanging on by a thread, and I still haven’t decoded enough of Bay’s skill to recharge it. But, despite that, this is a good time.

So, I place it on the table, and play some music for us. Sylves hums along quietly, closing her eyes, and mine settle on the wound, then drift to the stump of her arm. 

Slowly, a breath escapes my lips. While we wait, I practice again. I need to get better, to learn to heal a limb. I’ll bring her arm back. No matter what it takes. No matter what.

- - -

Another twenty minutes pass, until Inu, sighing and complaining loudly, wipes the bloody tears from my face. “You really have to stop doing that.”

“Isn’t your new heart epitaph meant to stop that?” Opal asks with a snicker, crossing their arms behind their head. The lackadaisical calm betrays them, because I see the iron in their eyes as they look at the scarred over gash in Sylves’ side. 

Shrugging faintly, I smile. “It lets me push further before it happens.”

Thatch presses his face into his hands. “And since you can press further, of course you’d instantly go to the limit again.” He sounds frustrated.

“Yeah, of course,” I reply, tilting my head in confusion. “It’s just efficient.”

That makes Sylves laugh so loud, she has to hold the healed wound again. Richard tries to feed her, but pauses when the girl laughs too loudly. “You’re impossible, Snow,” she says with a quiet smile, shaking her head, then takes another bite of food.

As she speaks, our eyes settle on her. Thatch is the one who asks first, his fists clenched. “So, what happened?”

“Nothing much,” Sylves said with a shrug. “Apparently, my sales were encroaching on some gang’s bottom line. My tailor master wasn’t paying enough, or something, they weren’t getting priority cloaks anymore… and so, since I was the worse tailor, they wanted to make an example of me. Send a message, and all.”

Richard looks between us, seeing the sparks. “You are thinking of escalating this?” the hiy’ht asks, raising an eyebrow.

Opal nods first. “Yeah,” they say. “Yeah, I think I’m feeling rather angry.”

With a small smile, Thatch pats them on the back. “Opal is a petty person, you see, Richard? They’re unlikely to let this go. In fact, I’m almost surprised. Sylves usually is even more petty.” He gives the girl a raised eyebrow.

The faerie snickers at his look, and for just a second, I see the mask crack. The joviality is replaced with the penchant for sadism she usually tucks away. “Naturally,” she says slowly. “I feel rather offended, you see? That I’d be marked as an easy target. But in the interest of hiding, well, I’ve been doing my best to keep it low.”

Gently, I ruffle her hair. “No need for that,” I say. “Don’t bottle up your feelings. If you wanna hurt someone, that’s okay.”

She bares her teeth. “I do,” she says.

With a loud clap, Inu chimes in. “Then it’s decided,” she says, though out of all of us, she’s the most conflicted. “We can’t just let this go. Who’s our target?”

Sylves sighs, acting as if it would hurt her to betray the ones who stabbed her. “My master’s shop is two islands south from here,” she says. “That’s also where the gang has an outpost.”

“Which gang is it?” I ask.

“Bloodstain’s,” Sylves says. The name comes from her lips with seething anger, and I frown upon hearing it. 

She’s strong. And dangerous at that. Hearing the name, I nod. “What’s the plan?”

Opal sighs, then crosses their arms. “We form a rival gang,” they say simply.

“Snow can’t lead, obviously,” Thatch says. “We do still have to hide a little. Which one of us will be the head?” 

At that, we all, instantly, look at Thatch. The young man shrinks back a little, then frowns. “Now hold on a second.”

Inu claps him on the shoulder in camaraderie. “Well, to be fair… your build is among the less known of us. Opal, Snow and Sylves are too distinctive, your powers changed the most from gaining authority. So it’ll be easier to hide.” Which is true. After all, I’m Ion, the monster rookie. Opal caused havoc on the first floor, and Sylves is the wraith of the third.

“Well, that’s fair, but…” Thatch protests weakly, looking down.

“You’re also our best speaker and biggest extrovert,” Opal adds happily. “You’ve got that unfairly handsome face too.”

“So unfair,” Sylves adds, which makes him blush.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I assure Thatch. “We’ll not force you into it.”

Then, after about two seconds, he shakes his head. “No, no, I get it,” he says with a sigh. “I am the best man for the job. I’m not bothered, just a bit embarrassed.” With a faint blush, he scratches the back of his head.

Inu gives him a bright smile. “You’ll do awesome, Thatch.”

“So,” Opal grins. “Time for us to finally set up crybaby guild, huh?”

Thatch snickers, then nods. “Sure, alright. Let’s do it.”

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