A couple minutes before unknowingly destroying a poor boy's self esteem, I was going through an internal strife of sorts.
*Haaah*
A hot breath escaped my lips. Chills crawled down my spine. A veil of fog clouded my mind.
All in all, I'd say I feel like absolute shit.
It seemed like, during the time I spent locked away and preparing for the tournament, I'd forgotten a crucial detail.
I'm starving.
If before, during my little outing to Stone Cauldron's shopping district, I could still somewhat keep myself together…
Well, now I'm really screwed.
A full month of starvation, my longest period yet. And to top it off, I was now surrounded by hundreds of nervous humans brimming with essence.
Their anxious anticipation, though not entirely the same as real fear, still triggered Voracity's naturally gluttonous response.
I thought I'd learned to control my unpaid resident's calls to action much better.
…No - I did get better. It's just that right now, the circumstances are extreme.
My own voice, the personification of Voracity in this case, whispered a quiet but unending chant in my ears:
Eat them. Consume their boundless essence.
Stop it. You know I'm not here to kill people.
You're stronger, are you not?
You're starving, are you not?
You're a Threadripper… Are you not?
Shut up.
It's simply the natural order of things, Ori.
You always take what is yours… So do it!
Tear into their soft, fleshy throats already..!!
Devour them.
"Oh for fuck's sake, just shut up the hell up already!!"
*Flinch*
Unable to remain quiet any longer, I let out a loud shout. Startled by my unexpected outburst, everyone's attention was drawn to me.
The crowd's idle chatter died on the sport, replaced with hushed whispers.
"O-oh… I understand. Sorry to bother you with my ugly mug…"
What, now?
Some kid, seemingly having taken my shout as an insult towards him, made a depressed face and strode off.
After sending him off with little more than a few second's worth of afterthought, I pricked my ears up at the idle chatter - though now, it was about me:
"Woah, what's wrong with her?"
"We weren't that loud, were we?"
Some young men and women exchanged confused glances. A person who'd been standing in this queue right behind me spoke to his friends with a hand cupped over his mouth.
Only, it was too bad that I could hear him just fine, what with my unnaturally sharp senses:
"You've got it all wrong. Here's the thing, Scott - I've been paying attention to this weirdo for the past thirty minutes and… I think she's got a screw or two loose."
"Oh come on, you're just being rude for no reason. Maybe the girl doesn't like crowded places; you shouldn't judge someone's character so carelessly."
The guy he whispered to - apparently named Scott - had a surprisingly reasonable response, but…
"Hear what I have to say first, junior. This girl's been mumbling to herself all this time. And even this random shout; I'll bet you that was some kind of mental breakdown… Look, just don't talk to her for your own sake, alright? Individuals like her are dangerous."
"Oof, is that true?"
Oof, is that true?
I reacted to the boy's claim simultaneously with Scott.
Have I actually been acting like a crazy person? Hah, shit.
Around the same time, I noticed a few more people joining in on the conversation.
"Look at her eyes. They've been closed all along. She might even be blind, for all we know."
"Damn it. How does some cripple like her even get an invitation letter?"
"Stone Cauldron's standards really have hit rock bottom, if these are the kinds they're letting participate. Tch!"
Argh, that's not it at all! Why do you think I have my eyes closed if not for your own safety, ya dimwits?! Or what, would you rather I scare you shitless and lose control on the spot..?
Of course, I couldn't actually say anything out loud, and there was no way for them to know either.
Sure, the young warriors might not have been at fault for assuming the worst, but that didn't detract from how deep of a nosedive my mood had taken.
…Not that I was faring too well before.
More whispers followed, and before long the gap between me and the other participants grew wider; wary of my supposedly 'dangerous' behavior, the fuckers cautiously distanced themselves.
I put so much effort into making my girl persona look all cute and attractive, but what's the point if people think I'm a psycho now?!
Still, I could deal with weird looks just fine. The real risk was something else entirely:
Dren might catch on.
The way I spoke to Voracity was rather distinct. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't be too bothered, but Master Dren? - He'd seen me quarrel with Voracity's voice way too many times in the four years I trained under him.
My only remaining choice was to keep it down, crossing my fingers that no Black Lake Healers were present to snitch on me.
Things are getting real dangerous, eh?
Well, at least I now know to be more careful with my internal dialogue - cause clearly, it isn't all too internal.
With those thoughts, I tried to distract myself from the irritating chatter and concentrated on keeping it cool.
It doesn't matter how shitty I feel right now. As long as I make it past the tournament, everything will somehow work out.
Probably.
There was something overlooked in the moment, thought. A certain trace of myself that I'd forgotten to mask due to the overwhelming load on my already exhausted mind:
The imprint of a living being, serving as an identifier of one's specific combat practices and much more.
Naturally, that trace was the intangible substance known as essence.
***
Amongst the rows upon rows of seats, three particularly decorated - almost thronelike in appearance - chairs were occupied by an unfittingly haggard trio.
And yet, despite their lack of decorum, nobody dared look down on their battletorn armor. If anything, the blemishes served as a mark of pride; proof that the battlefield was their second home.
"The Heroes of Nether" people called them, and they also went by many other grandiose titles.
Not that they actually liked these bloated callsigns - after all, they were first and foremost a trio of adventurers.
Without meaning to, they'd been placed atop a pedestal, receiving endless praise from the common folk who saw them put their lives of the line time and time again.
Between each other, though, the three saw their so-called 'heroic' deeds as nothing more than the bare minimum; a natural price to pay for the innumerable casualties they brought upon Nether's lands.
If only we hadn't forced the Threadripper into Nether's territory on that day.
…It was a thought they'd mulled over, no - trudged over - too many times but, in the end, wallowing in despair proved useless and they got to work.
That was their way of making up for the colossal mistake they'd committed some five years ago.
Showing themselves to the public today, for a massive ceremony within Stone Cauldron's outskirts, was simply another one of the many obligations they willingly heaved upon their shoulders.
Currently, the three sat side by side on their over-embellished chairs in wait, when:
*Bzzt*
"Mm... Look!"
Something akin to a buzz reverberated in the trio's heads, shortly followed by a high pitched voice.
That voice belonged to a short sorceress whose face was covered by a hood, audible only to her two companions.
"Huh? Right now?"
A tall woman, with an enormous staff by her side to match, raised an eyebrow in response to Rennie's voice.
"Let's hear her out first, no? If Rennie's going out of her way to say something, it must be rather important. Plus, it's not like we've got much to do right now."
Bill's coarse voice went straight into the heads of Kanna and Rennie, making Kanna chew on her lower lip in contemplation for a few moments before eventually giving in:
"Hmm, fine. Let's hear it."
Following the direction of Rennie's stretched out finger, her and Bill's eyes slowly scanned the uninspiring crowd of youths.
"Whatever it is you're expecting me to see - I don't.'
"Yep, me neither."
Bill chimed in with a nod.
"There. That girl... With closed eyes. Her essence is... Interesting."
Now slightly curious, both Bill and Kanna looked at Rennie with some skepticism but quickly backed down.
"If there is anyone whose senses we can trust more than our own, it would be Rennie."
"True that."
Deciding to put more belief into their sorceress, they focused in on the crowd once more, putting an extra ounce of effort into essence perception... And finally, they noticed the anomalous girl:
"What the..?"
"Uhh - Kanna, Rennie. You two... You're feeling the same thing as I am, right?"
With a level of disbelief in his expression, Bill dumbfoundedly stared downwards.
"Sure looks like it, dunnit?"
"...Mm."
The adventurers' attention was drawn towards exactly one girl within the queue of hundreds; more precisely, their attention was on her peculiar essence.
That distinct energy emitted by the girl, whose eyes were closed as if in deep meditation:
It was familiar. Terribly familiar.
A certain person's face surfaced in the minds of all three adventurers; one they couldn't forget, no matter how many lives they'd saved since.
After all, it was their fault that Nether ended up in the state that it did... All because they inadvertently pitted 'that' person against the King of Nether, Dren.
"You two, I think that girl-"
Kanna finished Bill's sentence, not a trace of doubt remaining in her voice.
"-Yes. She is, unmistakably-"
"-A Threadripper."
Again.
Just like five years ago, when the Tragedy of Nether lead to half a country's total and utter destruction.
"This is insane..."
They chanced upon another Threadripper.