Titans - March of Progress

For what felt like the fiftieth time, Sain reached for the energy in the crystal that he held in his right fist. He centered his mind's eye on it, and drew the energy out, like he had many times before.

Like always, the energy came to him easily, coiling around his hand in a gentle warmth. Like always, he drew it up his right arm, and guided it through his chest, and down his left arm, to the empty shard held in his left fist. Like always, he pushed the energy into the shard, as Clyde started the rhythmic chanting in the sorcerer's tongue, his hand placed on Sain's shoulder, held firm. Like always, Sain pulled energy from his own core, and wrapped it around the energy in the crystal, like a cocoon, or a bag.

And like every time so far, as soon as Clyde finished his chanting, the energy just dissipated in Sain’s grasp, and fizzled out in a wash of warmth that rushed over him and Clyde.

Moments after the failure, Clyde just huffed and stepped away, a look of irritation on his face as he did so.

“We should not be having such trouble! This is infuriating!” Clyde let out, his tone letting slip how exasperated he was.

Sain just looked at his master, then to the two empty crystals in his hands, and after a few moments, sighed and moved over to the stools to sit, feeling even more exhausted than he was in the morning. As he sat, he looked up tiredly, noting Clyde sitting down opposite him, that look of irritation still plastered across his face. And now he stared at Sain.

“I don’t think we will be having any success today Sain, as much as I hate to admit it. And with your magical core nearly depleted, there is no point in continuing. On that note, I don’t even want to know what you did over night to cause your core to be so close to empty. But whatever it was, it was irresponsible considering you knew we had experiments to do today” Clyde stated in a rather terse manner, and Sain just gulped and looked down at the floor.

“Whatever. What is done is done. Go home and get some rest. Get a good meal in you as well," Clyde stated and Sain looked up apologetically as Clyde slipped a hand into his coat, to one of the inner pockets. After a few moments, he produced a few coins, and a small book. Perhaps no bigger than the old man's hand.

“Take this and buy some food. I recommend some fatty fish. That is a food preferred for rebuilding magical energy. And the book, give it a read overnight. It is a series of notes on the processes, and applications of elemental energy that has been bound to crystals. I won’t ask you questions on it, but it is still something everyone should know” Clyde stated and placed the book, and a half dozen coins onto the table next to him, with the candles situated upon it.

“Right... I will sir. Um... I am sorry I have not been much help today” Sain stated, trying to not dwell on the reason his magical core was so depleted. Minda’s face flashed across his memory, and he just flinched, feeling a stab of pain in his heart. Guilt must have shown on his face though, because when he looked at Clyde, the old man was staring at him. Breaking eye contact, Sain scooped up the coins and book as he stood up and slipped them into his own coat pocket.

“Not your fault boy. Cannot help magical mechanics. Like I said, just have a good meal, and rest up. Come by some time in the midmorning tomorrow. I will be spending the rest of the day, and tomorrow morning, doing some more research, to make sure I am not missing anything. Now, get out of here” Clyde stated, and waved his hand dismissively.

Sain just nodded, and moved away from the table towards the door, and picked up his shoulder bag from where he had deposited it earlier in the day.

“Ok, I will sir. Um... see you in the morning then” Sain stated and lingering a few moments, he waited to see if Clyde would say anything else, but as nothing came, Sain just sighed and turned away, stepping out of the storeroom into the cold midday air.

Looking up at the sky as he walked away from the storehouse, Sain pulled his coat tighter about himself, and just huffed as he watched snow slowly fall, mixing with the ash and smog put out by the foundries throughout the factory. I bet the rest of the city looks the same. Choking on pollution even as nature runs its course, he thought to himself and just sighed tiredly, looking away from the falling snow which settled on the ground only a few moments before it melted, turning to a dark gray mush as it mixed with fallen ash. Winter has barely started, and it is already snowing. It's going to be a tough winter, I think.

Sighing again, Sain left the factory and started his tired trudge along the road towards his home. As it was still light out and the road was bustling, with people moving around aplenty, and wagons moving up and down the road, carrying varying loads from crates of coal to barrels of alcohol, Sain chose to keep to the main road. Instead of the alleys and side streets he had traversed in the morning.

His gait was slow, as exhausted as he was, and he just looked around as he went, not seeing a hint of gang colors anywhere. I wonder who even owns this territory now. It used to be Horned Rats.

Coming to a halt at a particular spot on the road, at the bottom of a hill, Sain just stopped on the sidewalk, and thrust his hands into his coat's pockets. He could feel them shaking as he clenched them into fists. He stared at a spot on the road, which bore a faint brown patch. Of dried blood. He recognized the spot instantly of course, as the spot Minda had died, less than a day before. Feeling a well of guilt build up in himself, he drew in a shaky breath and continued on, looking around the spot of the fight again. On either side of the spot were holes in walls, and fences, a few other pronounced brown patches, and even a few patches of what looked like dried vomit. But other than those, there was no other indication that there had been a fight, and the people and wagons traversing the street certainly did not seem to notice or care about the little traces that were present.

Everything was cleaned up so fast. I wonder who did it? The police, or the Red Cobra? Shaking his head, Sain just continued on, feeling a little sick in the stomach now, and quite shaken. It probably showed in his pale face, and withdrawn gaze, but if anyone looked at him, he did not notice. Retreating into a blank state of mind, Sain continued to walk, zoned out.

Eventually though, Sain came to a stop, and looked up at the shanty house that he and his father lived in, crammed against a neighbor on the right side, and a tiny alley on its left side. He stepped into the alley, ignoring the front door of the house that led to the bottom floor, as that was occupied by another family, and instead walked up a short flight of stairs that flanked the alley, which led to the second story. After a few moments of fumbling around for his keys, Sain unlocked and pushed the door open, a loud creak escaping it.

Sain stepped inside and flicked a look to the couch, expecting to see his father still sleeping on it, but instead he caught a blur of movement and was just about knocked from his feet as a shape slammed into him and picked him up off the ground.

Sain let out a shocked sort of gurgling protest as he was spun around a full three sixty before being unceremoniously dumped on the couch against the wall, and looking up rather dazed, he saw the same cheeky grin he had grown to love in his early childhood. The face of his elder brother Niall. Five years his senior, at the age of nineteen, Niall was a tall young man beginning to fill out into his frame. He had the same brown eyes and a darker hair color than Sain’s blond hair, neatly cut and even styled to a degree.

Sain stared at Niall incredulously for a few moments, and unable to stand the mocking face of his brother any longer Sain grabbed a pillow off of the couch and hurled it at Niall, who artfully dodged it before launching forward and grabbing Sain once again, forcing him into a wrestling match. Exhausted and smaller as he was, Sain was soon overpowered by his sibling who then sat astride Sain’s waist barely out of breath, who just lay there, quite uncomfortable with his shoulder bag squished under him.

With the same cheeky grin plastered across his face, Niall spoke first.

“Is this how you greet your brother after you haven’t seen him for months?”

“Well, I would have liked to have hit you with a few more pillows you big oaf, but I’ll let you claim this victory for now” wheezed Sain from his position as the victim. Standing up Niall helped Sain to his feet before giving him a hug and rubbing his messy hair.

“You’re dirty little brother. Go wash up before we talk. I don't want to sneeze from your stink” Niall stated, a smirk tugging at his lips. A laugh sounded out from the kitchen and Sain scrunched his nose, recognizing the tone of his father.

With a grunt Sain shoved off his brother, eliciting an amused chuckle as Niall got up, letting Sain get to his feet. He took a moment to straighten his coat and bag, and then glared at Niall for a few seconds, who returned the ire with an amused expression. Sain huffed and softened his expression.

"It's good to see you too" Sain stated before he stepped around Niall and headed to his room. He grabbed a few clothes from his small dresser and deposited his bag before heading off for a wash in the bathroom.