《The Price of a Smile》 Chapter 0 - Eat My Wings ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Blackness crawled inside of him, dark tendrils invading his orifices and wrapping around his organs. It drove him mad with revulsion, but his body was no longer his own to command. Every wretched heartbeat caused his body to convulse, and he squirmed against his chains, wriggling like a worm in a pit of tar. It was a hopeless endeavor. He was going to fall. He was going to lose. He was going to drown. But until then, he was going to struggle. Blind as he was, weak as he was, he could still hear the cry of her voice, the splash of her tears, and for that reason alone, he¡¯ll crawl out of this pit. He¡¯ll be fine as long as he could hear her. As long as he knew where to go. As long as¡­ A tearing sound interrupted his thoughts. Vaporous appendages crawled into his ears and pierced his eardrums, robbing him of his ability to hear. They snaked through the canals of his ears, found their way into his brain, and devoured the last of his fighting spirit. There was only a silent emptiness now. A black maw stood before his consciousness, an abyss that would grant him a death of the mind. Freedom from the future, from his relationships, from the laws of the world. He could still remember her words, her regrets, her lies, her secrets, and now, he could feel his heart break with each searing memory. It was stupid. Why was he even trying so hard? Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. It would be easy to give up. If he did, he would never feel this pain again. But, as he stared into the trench, as the maw of corruption bit down into him, something brushed against his lips. Red blossomed in his thoughts, and iron shook his stolen mind. It was hot and raw, a disgusting, addictive taste. It churned his stomach and made him yearn for more, even as a necrotic purple surged up his body. A bloody kiss from someone he could no longer see, hear, or smell. A bloody kiss that could only be tasted and felt. Ah. He was hungry. Hungry for life, for a formless future. Slowly, his own maw opened, teeth shining resplendently in an artificial night. And then, he bit down. He ate as he was eaten, tearing at the tentacles that tore at him. He ate as he was eaten, drinking the fluids that drained him dry. He ate as he was eaten, cracking bone between his teeth as his bones cracked. Until the darkness was devoured, and the worm became a monster. Chapter 1 - Snow in Summer, Part 1 Cirrus clouds drifted overhead, their wispy forms forever out of the reach of those bound by gravity. A flock of ravens flew through them, white trails sliding off their feathers as they dove in and out with glee. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the equatorial sunshine was a boon to the green back of the beast. The air vibrated as the sky-whale displayed its joy at the end of a month-long journey. It was pleased with the sunshine, and happy that it had outran the touch of winter in the northern hemisphere. Though its brethren may have chosen to stay and relish in the changing of the seasons, Regana-Hier was an island-sized behemoth that could only be satisfied with summers and the monsoons. As the hot sun began its ascent to the peak of the world, those down below simply had to put up with their god¡¯s tropical preferences.
The Keeper Inn was a humble, three-story building beside a crossroad. From that intersection, one could travel to any of four towns in the countryside, making it a very auspicious address for the Inn. Well, if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that one could get from one town to the other in a half-day¡¯s worth of travel on Shard-fuelled wheels. With its sun-bleached walls and its somewhat eerie atmosphere, it was clear as day that the inn was past its golden age. A garden was dug out on the front lawn, scarecrows of straw and burlap guarding a treasure drove of edible greens, and a rain collection system was haphazardly set up over the canopy of the front entrance. All of those were arrangements that the young owner had set up to lower the cost of living, but in exchange, it could have been mistaken for a homesteader¡¯s abode. Only a sign, covered in bird shit old and new, would correct a traveller¡¯s mistakes, but even then, it was doubtful that it would have an effect at all. After all, outside of shooting the breeze with the innkeeper, there really was nothing to do out in the boonies. But perhaps it was for that very reason that a dust-colored magibike with a wagon attached was leaning against the front porch. ¡°Yeah, not sure why you haven¡¯t cleaned up that sign yet,¡± a red-haired girl said, slouching over one of the few wooden chairs within the Inn. The sun gleamed off the shiny goggles that hung from her neck, and a mountain of clothing was piled up onto the table before her. ¡°Probably drives away more customers than it attracts.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not advertisement though,¡± remarked the inn keeper as he folded the clothes before him, ¡°It¡¯s a reminder.¡± ¡°Right¡­a reminder that can barely be read now?¡± The red-head grinned smarmily, her amber eyes sparkling cheekily. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know you¡¯re lazy the moment money isn¡¯t involved.¡± The raven-haired youth tossed one set of clothing into the open luggage case beside him, before reaching into that giant pile and pulling out the next article of dry-cleaned laundry. ¡°Shush, Vrei, being motivated by money is a good thing. Imagine if I didn¡¯t help you pack even after you paid me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re rifling through a girl¡¯s clothes though,¡± she shot back, ¡°So are you really motivated by money?¡± ¡°You think I¡¯m a disgusting pervert or something?¡± he asked, rolling his eyes at just how much she was enjoying this verbal joust. What he had pulled out was her D-cup bra, and, without even flinching at the terrible timing, he folded the cups into each other, before rolling the strings in and throwing it in. ¡°See,¡± he gestured, ¡°Not even interested.¡± Vrei shook her head, chuckling. ¡°Please, Alvain, just because you can restrain your carnal desires for a moment¡­¡± Alvain sighed, almost running his hand through his black hair from exasperation, before stopping himself. The rhythm of taking and folding clothing had almost become automatic at this point, and he had been moments away from dragging her panties over his head as well. That was a bullet dodged¡­but that definitely wasn¡¯t something she overlooked. ¡°Oh man, did you actually do that?¡± The girl guffawed, almost falling off her chair. He ignored her, ears burning from embarrassment. Vrei¡¯s laughter was bright and explosive, lovely to listen to when she was laughing with you, but when she was laughing at you¡­Alvain could only sigh, and wish that the sky-whale would make another deafening roar and temporarily drown out her voice. Some time passed before she stopped teasing him about his ¡®lust for chaste maidens¡¯ and his ¡®obscene fetishes¡¯. The sun had risen higher up now, granting blessed warmth unto the lands in its glare¡­which also meant that the wooden, unventilated lobby of the inn had become a sauna. Alvain wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. The mountain was now a molehill, and thank god for that. He was beginning to think that Vrei didn¡¯t have enough luggage cases to carry all her clothes, but it looked like there was just enough. ¡°Bloody abyss, why do you even wear this much?¡± Alvain complained, enviously eyeing Vrei¡¯s sweatless body. ¡°If it makes you feel any better,¡± she said, languidly resting her boots on the table, ¡°Regana-Hier¡¯s going to be heading for a rain cloud in a week or so.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t change the present,¡± he grumbled. Salty drops were sliding into his green eyes, and it felt disgusting. Vrei waved towards one of the walls, and then to a metal pole leaning against the front desk. Runic inscriptions could be seen on its side, and there was leather wrapped around one of its ends. ¡°Just blast a few holes, Alvain, if you¡¯re grumpy about the heat. Your Ash Bolt should be able to do at least that much.¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Man, I need one of those fancy ice-rune fans, not self-inflicted property destruction.¡± ¡°Then work harder for your pay, Mr. Keeper!¡± Alvain narrowed his eyes, before moving onto the final piece of clothing. Then, he stopped. ¡°Huh, didn¡¯t know you wore this.¡± ¡°Well, gotta wear things that appeal to the client. Some like business formal, some like English maid stuff, and some¡­¡± Alvain held up a full-body dog costume, a shit-eating grin on his face. ¡°¡­want dog-girls? The customer is god, eh?¡± Vrei blushed, a rosy red coloring her soft cheeks. ¡°Shut up. At least I have work.¡± ¡°Ouch, low blow there,¡± Alvain said, faking a wince. ¡°Must be rough though, being a freelancing courier.¡± He had made that observation many times in the past already, but Vrei still showed a grateful smile at his sympathy. Getting off the chair and sweeping off the dirt on the table, the young woman shrugged. ¡°I like travelling and it pays well. There¡¯s worse jobs out there.¡± ¡°Like dressing up like a dog?¡± Vrei punched him in the shoulder for that, even as she laughed alongside him. ¡°That¡¯ll be extra for the physical abuse,¡± he quipped, rubbing his inconsequential wound. The red-headed girl grinned, as she dropped a motley collection of coins onto the counter. ¡°Now there¡¯s the penny-pinching friend of mine!¡± ¡°And there¡¯s the paying customer of mine! Thanks for your patronage,¡± he replied, his eyes glimmering as they drank in the sight of money. ¡°Oh yeah, need any help with th-¡± With a grunt, Vrei picked up the four cases, her heavy clothes hiding the rock-solid muscles that laid in her body. ¡°¡­actually, never mind that.¡± Alvain corrected himself. ¡°Damned gorilla woman.¡± ¡°My, my, what was that?¡± She turned, a cold smile on her face. Alvain didn¡¯t even bat an eye as he ¡®repeated¡¯ himself. ¡°Ah, I said ¡®Have a nice trip, Vrei!¡¯ See you later! Bye bye!¡± Yeah, there was no way the courier believed his original words were so harmless, but she let him off the hook anyways. Pushing through the door of the Inn, she waved at him once more, a cheery grin on her face, before the door swung close, leaving Alvain alone in his inn. A few moments later, a thrum could be heard as Vrei¡¯s dust-colored bike came back to life, carrying its master and her copious amount of work clothes off into the distance. The air was still stiflingly hot, and now, there wasn¡¯t even the pleasure of conversation to distract him from his boredom. Vrei had left, and now, the only soul present was himself. It was quiet, a stifling silence that made him tired and uncomfortable. Alvain flopped onto the table, one finger tracing a circle in the wood grain. What would his parents think, seeing the inn become a glorified laundry room? Ah, life was hard. Then, Alvain smiled, a pure smile with no hidden bitterness. Weather really must be getting to him, huh, if he¡¯s becoming dissatisfied with his peaceful life. He flicked a golden coin into the air, filling the sauna-like space with a clear, ringing tone. ¡°Welp, it¡¯s is only going to get harder if I wish it was easier!¡± He pushed away his lethargy, and got up. Slapping his cheeks until they were red and stinging, Alvain shook his limbs about like a wet noodle monster, before picking up the metal bar leaning against the counter. ¡°Alright then,¡± he said, thinking aloud, ¡°Watering my vegetables during noontime will just be a waste, and I¡¯m not going to have any customers until evening anyways, so...¡± So he was going to go tramping about in the forest that was half an hour¡¯s walk away in this blistering heat? And then use his sub-par tracking skills to find an animal to use his similarly inferior sharpshooting skills to take down? And, after all that¡¯s done, drag its dead body all the way back home while praying to the Sky-Whale that a pack of carnivores don¡¯t descend on him and steal his dinner or his life? Was he really going to do all that? Of course he will! After all, doing something was better than thinking about other things! Mustering up his motivation and imagining the best case scenario, in which he happens upon a deer with golden antlers, Alvain thrust up his spellshooter, kicked open the door, grabbed a tomato, and then slammed the door shut. For a moment, he stayed at the front porch, breathing in the hot summer air and becoming accustomed to the brilliant light. With a sigh, the young man brought out a brass key and locked the door shut. ¡°Later, mum.¡± An arc of ash gray energy shot out from the end of the metal bar as its inscriptions momentarily flashed with white light. It burst into a brilliant display of light and sound, echoing through the air. Up above, the unkindness of ravens scattered from their roost in the clouds, flying off and away. Alvain smirked as he walked off. "Yeah, that¡¯s right! Don¡¯t think that I forgot about you thieving bastards either!¡± Chapter 2 - Snow in Summer, Part 2 After half an hour¡¯s worth of walking underneath the hellish sun, he could finally take in a breath of air that didn¡¯t smell of dust and sweat. The scent of the forest was refreshing after been baked on the dirt roads, and the grass felt nice to step on. Regana-Hier may be a sky-whale who enjoyed hardcore sunbathing, but it did wonders for the plants, at least. He spent a few moments enjoying the shade, lying with his back flat against the soft grass. The breeze-rustled leaves reminded him of the rain that was to come, and, if he strained his hearing enough, Alvain could hear the heartbeat of the sky-whale. It was measured and deep, a primordial drumbeat that had existed long before the land on its back. ¡°Regana-Hier,¡± he murmured, hands clasped over the ensorcelled pole he used for hunting, ¡°Life-Giver and Land-Owner, grant me the right to take a life you have given, so I may extend my own.¡± The breeze passed, and the forest fell silent. Alvain waited there, lying on the ground, eyes closed. Another minute passed, before he breathed a sigh of relief. The sky-whale hadn¡¯t smashed him to bits with the power of nature, nor had it brought a whole army of carnivorous beasts down onto him, so it looked like it was fine to take a life from the forest. Well, it was doubtful that Regana-Hier would have cared to begin with. After all, what was the value of a single mammal¡¯s life, when one could create it as easily as breathing? Alvain got up, a wry expression on his face. ¡°¡­wow, that was way too serious.¡± The raven-haired youth laughed at his own musings, running a hand through his short hair. The Hunter¡¯s Prayer was a tradition brought down from parent to child, and Alvain wasn¡¯t enough of a rebel to do away with that just because his parents weren¡¯t there to nag him about showing respect. Retying his boots and shouldering his weapon, he marched on the woods, humming a nostalgic tune. It took only five steps for his frame to be hidden in the dense forest.
Tracking was not Alvain¡¯s forte. While he understood the ideas behind sniffing fecal excrements and reading the way the grass bends, the wannabe hunter rarely, if ever, noticed those details the first place. He would be able to see those signs if he focused, but, out in the woods, by his lonesome, it was much too easy for his mind to wander. There were cute little squirrels flitting around the network of branches, too small and adorable to consider as a meal. There were delicious, well-grown dandelions and mushrooms that he¡¯d harvest, shoving them into his pockets or his mouth. There was a wonderful sense of freedom in the air, and Alvain greedily drank it in. Under the shade of a dozen trees, even the scorching temperatures felt pleasant, and there were enough salad greens that he could probably just have lunch right then and there, before taking a nap. That would be quite nice, really. He deserved a break after a morning of work¡­ Smack. Two open palms slapped his cheeks once more, as Alvain woke himself out of his laziness. His metal bar fell on his feet next, a sharp sting of pain causing him to hop about for a few moments, before he fell down on his ass ruefully. ¡°Dammit, how did my dad even do this? Shoulda brought Vrei to help me stay focused¡­¡± He imagined the gorilla woman prancing about in the forest, as if she were out for a picnic instead of a hunt, and shook his head at that. Yeah, no, that was a terrible idea. He sighed, head slouching downwards. Alvain closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and began to focus once more. What was important here? Food was important. Why was food important? Because food is money. Why is food money? Because money buys food. So why was he hunting? Because he wants money. The youth stood up, emerald eyes shining with desire. He picked up the fallen Ash Bolt, and took in his surroundings. He was on a gradual slope, facing up the incline. The grass was especially tall here, and the trees were relatively sparse, allowing for more light to spill out between the branches. Due to that, flowers had blossomed rather splendidly, golden dandelions and purple pansies splashing their vibrant colors onto the greenery. That had been what distracted him moments before, but now that he was focused, Alvain could sense something else. There was a faint trail through the tall grass, large enough that it couldn¡¯t be mistaken for a rabbit, or even his own body. It was fresh, the bent over grass pale despite being in direct sunlight. ¡°See,¡± he murmured, pressing his body against the ground stealthily, ¡°That¡¯s what you get for getting back to work¡­¡± Curiously enough, the ground was damp. It took a moment later for the wannabe hunter to shudder at the implications of this dampness. "..." If he thought positively, that meant that his human scent was now hidden underneath his prey¡¯s urinal excretions. Yeah, that''s right, he¡¯ll think of this positively, and ignore how disgusting it felt. He¡¯ll think of this positively, and smile at this until his face split in half. With petty vengeance in his heart, Alvain began to crawl up the slope, ears strained for any sound. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It took fifteen minutes before he crested the top of the hill, his shirt now stained with grass and dirt, in addition to urine. He''d probably have to burn his shirt now, but it was a necessary sacrifice for food-money, and, as he peeked over the hill, the youth decided that the sacrifice was definitely worth it. Down the hill was a solitary stag, grazing by its lonesome in an open field. It had a gorgeous mahogany brown, sleek and thick, and every movement made caused its muscles to ripple underneath that flesh. The horned crown it bore on its head would sell as well, and, simply put, the deer looked delicious. Alvain had the high ground, the element of surprise, as well as the means to slay the beast from a distance. The wind was still, which was a blessing, and even if it picked up again, he was confident that rolling about in urine-soaked dirt would hide it. He was salivating, already imagining the types of meals he could make with his mediocre cooking skills. Deer stew? Deer skewers? Roast deer? Fantasies of juicy, cooked meat flooded into his mind, and Alvain pinched himself in the arm until he awoke from his daydreams. He pulled the metal rod outwards, one hand firm on the leather wrap while placing his other hand against the ground. Like a billiards player, the metal bar was rested against the back of his free hand as Alvain closed his eyes. In his mind¡¯s eye, the Shards of his soul, the uniformly broken pieces, were brought into existence. They glimmered, radiating with a magical force that could only be taken one piece at a time. A limitation of beings that could not cast magic by natural means. A reminder of their lack of wings. Alvain opened his eyes once more, green irises pulsating softly. A fragment of his magical energy was loaded into the metal bar, its runic inscriptions filling with bright power. The Ash Bolt felt warm now, a comforting warmth similar to the touch of another person. Alvain adjusted the positioning of the metal bar, keeping it centered to the stag, before taking in a deep breath. ¡°Boom.¡± An ashen lance blasted out from the end of the spellshooter, silently racing through the air. It pierced the side of the beast, penetrating its fur and flesh with the same ease as a stone through water. Blood leaked from the small hole, as the stag turned its head towards Alvain, its cloudy eyes gazing into his own. Alvain stood up, and bowed towards the beast as it fell over. ¡°Thank you for your life.¡± Another tradition imposed on him by his parents, to send off the soul of those whose bodies he would consume. The corpse was still warm when he made his way down, and now, up close, Alvain really was impressed by the size of it. It was easily large enough to break his rib cage if it had charged him, and he couldn¡¯t help but smile at how good his shot had been. Humanity¡¯s progress may have reduced the value of the Keeper Inn, but, at the same time, rune tech was simply too convenient. He wasn¡¯t sure what sort of genius came up with a system that allowed humans to cast magic via runic inscriptions, but it was life-changing. By using the Shards of one¡¯s soul as ammunition, one could power things such as magibikes and spellshooters, reaping the benefits of magic without requiring the ¡®Whole Soul¡¯ that those of the Sky possessed, nor the training that the Wingless went through. Of course, incantations still required skill, but those were meant for specialists. For daily use, Alvain didn¡¯t have to worry about anything! Then again¡­ ¡°Oh, did I seriously forget to bring a knife?¡± ¡­true magic or incantations that could modify rune tech spells on the spot would have been really useful now. What laid before him was a beast that weighed upwards of 200 kilograms, and the only way to divide the stag into moveable segments was to blast it full of holes. It would be like trying to use hammers and nails to cut a wooden plank in half. Overhead, that unkindness of ravens were cawing, laughing at the human¡¯s folly and anticipating the feast that would be coming their way. Alvain sighed, recalled the amount of ¡®bullets¡¯ he had left, before placing the metal end of the Ash Bolt against the beast¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Better stay away from my vegetables from now on. You owe me for this.¡± Flashes of light erratically dispersed around the bottom of a hill, as a failure of a hunter tried his hand at being a butcher.
A/N: Well, three chapters into this now, and I''m actually curious as to what you all think of it. Am I faffing about too much? Should I just do a straight up infodump, instead of try to incorporate info dumping into the story itself? Is this slice-of-sky-whale-life falling too flat with my plebeian sense of humor? Also, what do you think of Alvain''s personality so far? Does he have a distinct, describable one at this point, or is he simply too average? And finally, probably gonna do another update tomorrow, cause muh lightning fingers are too lightning fast. Think a chapter every 2-3 days works pretty well for me, at least until I hit a wall.