Omnixir Awakens

Seed of rebellion

Dust swirled in the Glitch slums’ training yard, dirt packed hard under boots. Huts sagged, walls patched with rusted metal and torn cloth. Fires burned low, smoke curling with a sour smell. Sticks clacked as scavengers sparred, shouts sharp in the morning air. Barrels of scavenged goods, bent nails, and cracked pots lined the edges, glinting in faint sunlight.

Zhilak gripped a stick, sweat beading on his brow. His shirt stuck to whip scars, blood crusted from yesterday’s fight. Kaelin stood opposite, her scarred face set, braids tight. She swung her stick, wood meeting wood with a crack. Zhilak blocked, arms shaking, feet sliding in dust. The pulse in his chest thumped, heat spreading to his hands.

She stepped back. “Hold steady.” Her eyes flicked to his stance. “Again.”

He thrust, stick aiming for her side. She dodged, her warped Aura slowing his swing, air thick like water. He pushed through, pulse flaring, and landed a hit on her arm. She grinned. “Better.”

Jax watched from a crate, his scarred eye glinting. “Kid’s got fight.” His knife twirled, catching light. The crew, ten lean figures with dirt-streaked faces, nodded, sticks pausing. A boy, twelve years old, fumbled his grip, stick dropping to dirt.

Kaelin clapped. “Break. Eat now.”

Bowls passed, stew thin with roots and gristle. Zhilak spooned it, taste flat but warm. Jax sat close, breath heavy with ale. “Slums teach tough lessons. Hack Aether, you survive.” He flicked a finger, sparks jumping, then fading. “Mine’s broken. Yours?”

Zhilak touched his chest. Pulse hummed. “Something’s there.”

Jax leaned in. “Show it.”

Zhilak stood, focusing. Pulse grew, hands glowing faint blue. Pain stabbed his ribs. He gasped, light fading. Crew stared, spoons still.

Kaelin nodded. “Keep it hidden.” She traced a map in the dirt with her stick. “Marston outpost. Tonight. We take their coin.”

Crew gathered, fists bumping. Zhilak’s pulse quickened, heat coiling. Zyra brushed his arm, her braids swinging. “You’re with us?” Her eyes held his, lips curving.

He nodded. “With you.”

Afternoon training pushed harder. Sticks clashed louder. Zhilak paired with Zyra, her swings fast, forcing him back. His pulse surged, blocking her hit, wood splintering. She steadied his arm, fingers warm. “Nice.”

Sun sank. Shadows covered the yard. Kaelin led to the gate, sacks slung over shoulders. Slum paths twisted, mud pulling boots. The river roared nearby, hiding steps. Marston outpost loomed, walls high, torches flickering. Guards slouched, spears loose.

Hooks flew, biting stone. Zhilak climbed, pulse steadying his grip. Scars pulled, but he reached the top. Inside, crates stacked high, coin pouches heavy, blades sharp. Fingers filled sacks, metal clinking soft.

A bell rang. Torches flared. Guards rushed, shouting, “Thieves!” Kaelin’s Aura slowed them, steps dragging. Zhilak’s stick cracked a helm, guard falling. Zyra’s knife slashed a thigh, blood spraying. Sacks secured, they dropped over the wall, feet pounding dirt.

Jax’s voice cut through. “Traitor!” He stood with five men, knives out, blocking the path. “Coin’s ours.”

Zhilak froze. Pulse burned. “You sold us?”

Jax grinned. “Veyra pays more.”

Jax’s men wore Cult marks, red sigils on wrists. Veyra’s spies. Kaelin’s Aura pushed, but Jax’s hack sparked, breaking her hold. Zhilak lunged, pulse flaring, stick smashing Jax’s jaw. Blood sprayed. Two men fled, three fought. Zyra’s knife took one down, leg cut deep.

A new figure stepped from shadows. Lirael Bramwell, in slum rags. “Stop!” Her Eagle’s Gaze glowed, spotting a hidden archer. Her shout saved Zyra, arrow grazing her arm instead. Lirael joined the fight, her knife quick, dropping another.

Jax fell, tied by Kaelin’s rope. “Veyra knows you,” he spat, blood on lips.

Back at the yard, coin split, crew cheering. Zhilak’s pulse thumped, stronger. Lirael lingered, whispering, “Veyra hunts your spark.” Her hand brushed his, then she slipped into shadows.

Night settled. Zhilak sat by the fire, Alara’s note in hand: Calanthor’s betrayal with Kayrwin, a fresh wound to his heart. Kaelin joined him. “Raid’s just the beginning. We break their system.”

He nodded, pulse warm. Sleep came hard, dreams of crowns and claws. Dawn broke. Kaelin shook him. “Train now.”

Sticks clacked again. Zhilak’s pulse synced, hands glowing. A shout broke through. A boy ran in, panting. “Thorne’s here. Brighton. Wants you.”

Thorne stepped from a hut, his Trap Weave sparking. “Zhilak, you’re marked.” His hand flicked, vines of light binding Zhilak’s wrists. Pulse roared, breaking the trap, light bursting. Thorne staggered, eyes wide. “Omnixir.”

Kaelin’s knife pressed Thorne’s neck. “Speak.”

Thorne laughed. “Veyra’s near. Crown calls him.”

Zhilak’s pulse surged, pain spiking. He dropped, vision blurring. Veyra’s voice echoed in his head: “Yours for blood.” Her crown glowed in his mind, chains twisting.

Zhilak woke, pulse pounding. A slum runner held a carved stone, glowing faintly. “Found it in the ruins,” the boy said. Zhilak touched it. Pulse exploded, light blinding. Veyra’s laughter rang. Was it a key or a trap?