Ranvir wandered through the dark streets of Legea as he headed towards the southern docks. The city had been built right at confluence of the two largest rivers in Limclea, which meant it was the next biggest city right after Nysada, the capital and seat of the Drowned King.

Thinking of the King Phormos sent an involuntary shiver through the young man as he passed from a mainly residential district to one favoring commercial, as witnessed by the sudden rise of white marble pillars supporting small roofs above the doorways. Ranvir hadn’t known of the material until coming to Korfyi, since there appeared to be no analogous on Vednar.

As he walked, the cobbled footpaths turned to wood. The city had grown both further inland but also onto the river as well. This district was a relatively well off but hadn’t always been as evidenced by the remnants of older docks witnessed through the cracks of planks under Ranvir’s feet.

A pulse of something passed through the waters, reminding Ranvir once more of the King. There were a lot of stories about him spread throughout the populace. Most agreed that he’d been born and lived among the ferrymen, a guild that was largely gone from the greater rivers of Limclea after the introduction of potragos.

Some, those who called his domain over the waters unnatural, called him the child of Stex and Letos, but Ranvir had dismissed those claims early on. There were enough stories of creatures that didn’t fit what he’d assign as typical braced behavior, but King Phormos wasn’t one of them. His strength didn’t make him any different from the other Arkrotas ruling their own kingdoms.

Arriving at Tolis’ docks, Ranvir examined how far the evening shift had gotten before quitting. The starboard side had been cleaned, scrubbed, and treated, which meant they would have to turn the damn thing.

I’ll get started setting up the workstations then, Ranvir thought. He turned his gaze to the single unlit flare of nighttime sitting high in the sky before checking over the tools.

“Or you could just find a better job,” Latresekt suggested, voice low with a barely held back snarl of disgust. “Like a guard, or you could join the Sentinels—you know Amalia would sponsor you. Or go find Pashar and whatever she’s doing, she doesn’t seem low on keys.”

Ranvir shook his head as he began maintenance on the tools hit the hardest by the work. Latresekt had always had simmering undertones of anger, but after the creature entered his tether-space it had been nearly feral for weeks. It had gotten better in the years following, but not even three years was enough to stifle the intent of violence that oozed from every word and move the predator made. That was without mentioning the physical difference that had come as well.

Previously, Latresekt had been human-like in the broad gestures. Sure, its arms were too long and muscular, and the legs weren’t quite right. But there’d been a head on top of neck and shoulders, running down into a massively broad chest. Every inch had echoed with physical power.

Now, the broad chest had turned more barrel-like. While its arms were still long, there was a greater emphasis on Latresekt’s legs, leaving it prowling on all fours, rather than supporting itself with its arms. While the profile had gotten significantly smaller from the more horizontal form, Latresekt’s figure was even bigger now. Every move was blended with a twisting and bulging of muscle, each step revealing the striations under the short colored fur.

Latresekt’s teeth had been where the changes were most visible. When it had first woken up, they’d been razor sharp, reminding Ranvir more of knives than tools for eating. But over the years they’d dulled significantly and the biggest reminder that whatever was going on with Latresekt was still an ongoing journey. Now only the canines were sharp and prominent.

Ranvir ignored the creature as he’d taken to do, and let the work engross him. He was only pulled out of it when Tolis arrived. The old hull cleaner had long since grown too old to do the work himself, but still insisted on teaching each of the new hires himself.

“Milo!” the old man called, arriving just as the night was shoved aside by day. “Good to see you hard at work.”

Ranvir smiled at him in return, but said nothing as he finished up with the last of the tools. It was a rough job, but they didn’t need to be perfect, just needed to last until the end of the day.

“I see they didn’t turn it around,” Tolis said, nudging Ranvir in the side. His gray chin beard was the only hair on his face. “You didn’t turn it around on your own, eh? I’m disappointed.”

Ranvir let out a snort from his nose as he followed the old man’s gaze to the boat. It was decently sized, about as big as Tolis’ operation could handle as he didn’t employ braced with the Ability to breathe underwater.

Ranvir scrubbed at the slimy film that covered his fingers, rubbing them until sore, red, and clean.

“Ey, Milo!” one worker called. “Why don’t you sit with us?”

Ranvir glanced back at him. The rest of the morning shift gathered together for the lunch break. Even Tolis sat with them.

“I prefer the view to the East,” Ranvir said, conscious of his accent.

“And you pass by the Sentinels and the Psykimes,” Latresekt added smugly.

The worker shook his head, “You do you,” and waved him off, fork in hand. Ranvir could see a bit of his namesake on the tines of the cutlery. Silently forming words, Ranvir couldn’t help but feel clumsy with fiyan. The language didn’t come naturally to him and his Elusrian accent was firmly rooted in the back of his throat. The workers had picked up on that, saying he sounded like his mouth was full of the tuber vegetable.

Ranvir passed by the Psykimes. He was still working on the last set of puzzles Kasos sent him, so he needn’t check for new mail. When he passed the Sentinel’s local chapter, he was surprised to see they were holding some kind of event.

“Interesting,” Latresekt muttered. “You should go check it out.”

Ranvir shook his head, though he couldn’t stop himself from reading the banners. “Ability-type preference,” he muttered to himself, seeing a few older kids and some adults his own age entering the building. The Sentinels wasn’t a place where you found older people looking for a new job. Only the young and excitable sought their line of work.

“No, I think I already know what my Ability-type preference is,” Ranvir said, flexing his tether carefully. The loop, which carried his Flesh Discipline from the spiritual space and into his body, glowed softly as the wind its turning generated rustled Latresekt’s fur.

“It would be nice to know, though.”

Ranvir shook his head. “I have to think of Frija,” he walked past the building and headed for the docks. There was a watchtower he’d been permitted to enter the second-floor balcony of, which allowed him to look over the confluence of the two rivers. Letos’ clouded waters, mixing with the clear mountain chill of Stex as they ran out towards the ‘sea’. A body of water so vast, you purportedly couldn’t see across it. Ranvir had found the idea hard to believe, but with how massive the river grew once Stex and Letos joined, he found it hard to dispute.

Ranvir fiddled with his pockets, finding the small black fyla stone triangle. The center of mat black rock was inset with a rough cut of tane. The near-unbreakable red mineral was often paired with fyla to ensure longevity in mana-items. Folding out the paper, Ranvir looked at the forms written on it.

These seals were the closest thing Korfyi had to the ritual circles Ranvir and Kirs had worked out back home. Though, their purpose did not align. These seals were supposed to hold back the power of a braced, so they couldn’t use their power. At first, Kasos had sent him the first ten seals, which had taken Ranvir less than three days to break.

Then Kasos had sent him a two-fold seal, which featured two ten layer seals. It took Ranvir three days just to break that one. Rolling the fyla between his fingers, Ranvir examined the tenfold seal as he ignored his stomach’s protests.

“Even now you hide,” Latresekt growled, trying to distract him.

The fyla twitched between Ranvir’s finger.

“Working on your little puzzles to ignore the hunger. We deserve better than to starve.”

Ranvir grit his teeth as he focused in tighter on the seals. He hadn’t even begun yet and his focus was already shot.

“How many days now, Ranvir? How many days since you last ate until you felt full?”

“What do you want me to do, Latresekt? I have to take care of Frija. I cannot do that if I risk my life and end up dead.”

“Then grow stronger, use your powers instead of hiding,” then with disdain. “At least you’d get to your ‘job’ faster.”

“You know, as well as I do, that space powers are loud on lines,” Ranvir growled in return, feeling a rare flare of red emerge from the gray muck that ailed Ranvir’s mind.

“Who cares? Who cares if some space braced is using their powers to get to and from work a little faster? Your paranoia, your weakness, is what’s holding you back! You’re the one choosing to starve. You’re the one who’s decided that Frija has to limit how many raisins she can have in a day. You could be great, instead you’re afraid.”

Latresekt huffed and writhed itself into a ribbon of red, orange, and yellow that twined in on itself to sulk at the bottom of his tether-space. Ranvir grit his teeth, and turned back to the seals before him. He did not make any progress.