The Lone Wanderer

‘Another failure.’ Nesha grimaced.

Emptying the excess mana from her channels, she plopped back onto the floor, her chest heaving up and down.

On top of spending her nights to establish the supply lines they needed for their plan, she made sure to carve a few hours per day for Circulation. Yet, no matter how much effort she poured into it, the pattern for the space affinity remained a mystery.

The mana channels she’d cleared as a child were alright. They began at her sternum, spreading to every corner of her body, much like everyone else’s. It was the new pathways she’d opened recently that didn’t seem to make any sense.

Many of them still started at her sternum, but instead of extending outward to her skin, they led to dead ends inside her body. Others were the opposite: beginning at her skin but never reaching her core. Both types were completely useless. After all, how could mana possibly flow through a pathway that had only a beginning but no end? The mana would just fill the channel in an instant, then stagnate, trapped with nowhere to go.

Naturally, Nesha had considered ignoring these channels entirely, but that came with its own share of problems. Less than half of the new pathways were properly integrated into the network. If she relied only on those, her version of Circulation would end up far weaker than Percy’s or Elaine’s. Worse still, the dead-end channels weren’t the only ones causing issues.

Some of them had only one entry but multiple exits, or vice versa. This forced her to artificially weaken the flow, to balance the input with the output. And even when she ignored the dead-ends, stray mana still spilled into them by accident, accumulating dangerously in her body. Controlling the raging flow with perfect precision was impossible. The best one could do was to try and guide it.

‘I guess there has to be some trick I haven’t discovered yet.’ she shrugged.

In any case, the sun was nearly down, and she had bigger plans for the night. Popping into the shower, she took a few minutes to wash up, before taking a pinkie-sized vial out of her spatial amulet. Uncorking it, she drank the liquid in a single gulp, already gathering mana: first to her stomach, and then back to her sternum.

Naturally, this was a vial of Aurora Dew. Percy had kept his word, having completed the new recipe a few days ago. He said he’d replaced the rainbow grass with an ingredient called shimmering sap. The measly amounts Elaine bought for him were enough for now, but it was Nesha’s job to make sure they got a lot more of it.

Leaving the inn, she headed off, hoping to reach the bar in time. The 44th district was over an hour away but, at least, she’d already learned to cleanse her core while walking.

“There you are! I was starting to think you weren’t coming today!” Jina, the barwoman, greeted her with a grin as soon as she stepped inside.

“You’re acting like I’m late.” Nesha rolled her eyes. “It’s the same time I come here every night.”

Nesha: or Ebony, as people here knew her: had only started frequenting this place over the past week. In fact, she’d made a point to never miss a single night, to give the appearance of a regular. After all, she didn’t want anyone to think she’d only started coming here on the same day as her targets.

It wasn’t the fanciest bar in the district: far from it. In fact, it was rather filthy. The floors were sticky, the air thick with the scent of cheap alcohol, and the clientele sparse. But that was exactly what made it perfect. The fewer people who saw her, the better. Not to mention that she genuinely preferred the quiet.

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Grabbing a pint of ale from Jina, she sat at her usual seat by the corner, idly sipping her drink as her thoughts drifted off to her earlier attempts with Circulation.

The number of people who arrived after her could be counted on one hand. Yet, she ignored everyone, only perking up when a certain couple entered the bar. She expertly hid her gaze, of course, but every ounce of her attention was glued onto the newcomers.

The woman: Martina: wore a midnight blue gown. It wasn’t very cheap, nor very expensive. In fact, Nesha knew exactly how much it had cost, as she was the one who’d paid for it. After all, Martina was somebody she’d hired to negotiate on her behalf, so she had to look the part. Nesha certainly couldn’t have her wearing those dingy clothes she’d found her in.

Even so, Martina still looked like a beggar next to the man who accompanied her.

He was middle-aged, dressed in an elegant white suit, his polished shoes gleaming under the dim lighting. Rings adorned his fingers, and his neatly trimmed grey beard gave him an air of refinement. A powerful Blue core thrummed in his chest. The only hint of black in his attire was a pin he wore on his shirt. It depicted four tiles, two of them white, the other two black: like a miniature chessboard. The insignia of the Syndicate.

Yet, despite his composed demeanour, his gaze wandered now and then, snapping back into focus a few seconds later. An aftereffect of his injury, no doubt...

This was Alexander. The Radiant Lord of the 44th district, and the man Nesha was hoping to work with.

“M-My Lord…!” Jina stammered as she practically ran to greet him, nearly tripping in the process. Only when she reached him did she give him a polite: albeit somewhat clumsy: curtsy. “…it’s my great honour to serve you tonight! What may I get for you?”

The poor girl nearly had a heart attack as she fumbled over her words. Nesha knew Jina wasn’t used to treating customers this politely, but she didn’t blame her for trying to please the old Blue. The Radiant Lords and Veiled Ladies had absolute control over their districts. A single word from Alexander, and this place would never open again.

None of this was ‘Ebony’s’ business, though. After offering Alexander a polite nod: much like the handful of other customers did: she returned to her drink, appearing utterly uninterested in them.

Martina took a seat two tables away from Nesha. It was the closest she could manage without drawing suspicion. Alexander followed, sitting opposite her. They exchanged a few pleasantries while waiting for Jina to bring their drinks, only moving on to business once the bartender returned to her post.

Martina retrieved four objects from her purse: three glass vials and a piece of paper. Two of the vials contained a vibrant green liquid, though one was tainted with a light shade of brown. The third vial was cyan. As for the paper, somebody had sketched the simple outline of a leaf: that was Nesha’s idea, a brand to better market their healing tattoos.

Following the script, Martina detailed their proposal: the remote warehouse they needed to cultivate the mushrooms, the spoiled meat required for the process, the employees who would handle planting and harvesting, the ingredients necessary for the ink and magic potions, and the prices they intended to set for the three products.

Most of the discussion revolved around logistics, but Martina occasionally sprinkled in questions designed to tease out Alexander’s true intentions: allowing Nesha to assess his honesty through her bloodline.

Of course, Martina didn’t know about that last part. She simply followed the list of questions Nesha had given her. Unbeknownst to her, Nesha had employed a similar tactic when vetting her a few days earlier, ensuring she was both intelligent and trustworthy enough to serve as the face of their operation.

The meeting stretched for hours, eventually prompting Nesha to order a second drink. To Martina’s credit, she adhered to the script perfectly, asking everything Nesha had instructed her to, and emphasizing the key selling points that might entice Alexander into agreeing.

Sure enough, by the end of the discussion, the man had relaxed significantly, laughing and joking as they finalized the details of the deal.

Nesha struggled to suppress a grin of her own. She was more than satisfied with his responses. She wasn’t a mind-reader, of course: especially when relying on a third party to ask the questions: but she felt confident Alexander was as pleased with their collaboration as she was, even if he remained completely oblivious to who his actual partners were.

At the very least, she didn’t expect him to try anything underhanded. Not that he had any reason to. This wasn’t some illicit product they were peddling: just a bunch of simple potions, really.

Leaving the bar about half an hour after the others, she made her way back to the 11th district, eager to break the good news to Percy tomorrow.

Little did she know, Percy had some bad news of his own to share…