The Ethersmith

Who’s this? Vivi asked in her head, caught off guard by the sudden question.

Orange wine glass in hand, the man seemed to be an ether hunter on the younger side, perhaps the same age as Essi. He wore a black woolen coat over a knitted dark grey vest. The coat had embroidery, depicting a thicket of leaves and vegetation, though the embroidery wasn’t gold or silver like with most others, just plain white. Around his neck was a scarf, which fit surprisingly well with his sharp face and short-shaven head. He was stylish more than rich, as Lortel would have put it.

“Never seen him,” Lucius said, crossing his paws, disinterested. “Probably some newbie hooligan.”

He was still waiting to hear her answer. Vivi gave him the side-eye and said, “The purple parts are moonweaver’s silk, yes.”

“Wow, where did you get it?” His face lit up with a grin, and he placed his hands on a chair's back rest on the opposite side of Vivi's table. “I’ve been hoping to obtain some, actually. So far, my superiors have not yet accepted the proposal to venture down the levels to collect some rare worms.”

“So are you hoping to buy some from me?” Vivi asked.

“Oh, no I just thought you were cute. Mind if I sit with you?”

Vivi raised her eyebrows, giving him a look.

“Ugh, some trickster,” Lucius said. “I don’t think we want him as an ally. He’ll persuade us to some scam.”

“Do you know who I am?” Vivi asked. “Did you need something from me? If you're hoping to make a deal, just say it.”

“No, I have business with the sub-sovereign,” he said. “As long as nobody kicks me out first. I need to look like I belong here and act natural until Helegar shows up. Usually, sitting with the prettiest girl at the ball is the best way to show up uninvited.”

Kicked out? Vivi thought. So who the hell is this?

Even more so, another thing he said didn't make sense. “Out of everyone,” Vivi asked, “you’re telling me that the one girl sulking in a corner is pretty?”

“Definitely,” he said and eyed Vivi's outfit like some focused artist studying a painting. “A good style with the right colors is unbeatable, really. Nobles tend to stay away from monster-like colors, but purple and black always work well. Did your stylist choose the colors? Or you yourself? And your hair is made to match—just slightly wavy, but not excessively so. Your outfit isn't trying to show off. It just looks comfortable.” He grinned and added, “So, yes, you’re most definitely cute, and pretty. I’d love to meet your stylist.”

Vivi blinked, not knowing what to say. Lucius’s head had perked up while the man spoke, and he said, “No, Vivi, this is a scam.”

What’s the scam, though? Vivi asked.

While Lucius tried to think of an answer, the man sat down opposite to her on the round table, apparently taking Vivi’s silence as a positive answer on the earlier question.

“That’s notwithstanding that moonweaver's silk shines with ether,” he continued. “You’re a hunter, right? Can I see it? Just a little coating?”

Does he really not know who I am? Vivi thought.

He looked genuinely interested. Vivi decided to entertain him, adding a slight coating of ether to her raincoat. Lucius frowned, looking like he didn’t want to shape any ether for her, but he shaped the requested amount. The hood laces of her raincoat lit up, and all the purple parts became much more distinct, including the inside of her hood.

This content has been unlawfully taken from NovelFire; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Yep, that’s great,” he said, smirking. “I’ll definitely need some moon worms for myself.”

Vivi called off the coating of ether, making her coat look normal again. “So who are you?” she asked.

“Cael Darkwind,” he said. “Does that say anything?”

“Never heard,” Vivi said, sipping her wine.

“I suppose I’m known right now as the guy who crafted that golden wyvern surge hazard,” Cael said casually.

Vivi paused. “Wait. You made that?”

“Yep, I was hired by the big sovereign himself,” Cael said. “I was told to create the biggest, most dangerous and most beautiful boss monster I could, with access to all the gold and locium. I’d say I did a pretty good job, considering the city almost burned down. And as is typical, now that things went wrong, people are suddenly mad at me. I made the boss too difficult. Tough job.”

We killed the wyvern in one blow with the slingshot launchers, though, Vivi thought. And it didn’t even drop an exalted skill.

“So you’re an artist?” Vivi asked. “But you’re an ether hunter, are you not?”

“I’m more like a craftsman,” Cael said. “My family were kind enough to give me a spirit, hoping to train me young. Too bad for them; I suck at fighting.”

“But they’re not killing you to retrieve the spirit?” Vivi asked.

“Oh, everyone is always upset at me for sure,” Cael said. “But there are always hunting companies and rich folk looking to buy surge hazards. If you ever need an artist, hit me up.” He made some sort of sign with his hand, then asked, “What about you? Who have I been talking to?”

“Just a runesmith,” Vivi said and wondered if she should reveal her identity, when another person appeared at the table.

“Cael, you sneaky idiot,” said Alda Darkwind, standing tall beside his seat. “Who invited you? I thought Helegar wanted you out of his city.”

“Wait, we need an invitation to be here?” Cael said with clearly exaggerated surprise.

Alda crossed her arms. “Helegar will kill you if he sees you.”

“He has also paid only half of what was promised for my work so far,” Cael said. “Maybe if he’s publicly questioned about that, I’ll get the rest.”

“Sure, and you’ll be mysteriously assassinated afterward,” Alda said, an amused smile on her face. “It was nice knowing you. Looks like I’ll need to find someone else to smudge powder on my face.” Alda turned to Vivi. “He hasn’t bothered you, Vivian, has he?”

“He has,” Vivi said. “But I don’t mind.”

Cael paused at that. “Wait. Vivian? As in… Vivian Runeblessed?”

“Yep, that’s her,” Alda said. “I was surprised, too. Lovely prodigy, isn’t she?”

“Oh, shit,” Cael said, leaning back. “Did I accidentally start bothering someone kind of amazing? You’re the one who defeated my wyvern?”

What is happening… Vivi thought, feeling like she should sigh. She sipped her wine and said, “My team shot it down with a rune-powered missile, yes.”

Cael grinned. “How was it? Any feedback on how it could be made harder?”

“Well, the wyvern died in one hit,” Vivi said. “It only dropped a rare skill. But I don’t think that’s your fault. The storm just didn’t have enough ether. Or maybe exalted skills just weren’t ready to be collected at the time.”

“Not enough ether?” Cael asked. “It was a red storm, though, was it not?”

Vivi shrugged. “Not enough for an exalted skill, at least.”

Alda subtly sat down to listen in, and Vivi felt the need to ask, “Are you two friends?”

“He’s my stylist,” Alda said. “And also the bane of Darkwind’s hunters.”

“Oh,” Vivi said, glancing again at Alda's outfit. Her baggy pants and the tight sleeveless blouse felt barely acceptable for an event like this. “I thought you didn’t have a stylist.”

“Pffft,” Alda said, and a laugh escaped. “Hear that, Cael? You’re such a great stylist, people think I’m some hooligan.”

That’s not what I meant... Vivi thought. “It’s a cool outfit. It’s just not… extravagant?”

Cael sat comfortably and smiled subtly at Alda. “A dress just wouldn’t fit her. Trust me, I’ve tried. Not only does she keep stumbling on the hem, a dress also makes her look like a total commoner with the way she walks. But since Alda is an ether hunter, a strong and confident one, I dress her appropriately, with light makeup and perfumes to make her less like a hooligan.”

“She does look cool,” Vivi said quietly. And Alda seemed popular. People liked talking to her. Vivi had seen even a few of the more extravagantly dressed nobles approach her.

What about Cael’s outfit, then? His outfit was also crazy in its own right. What was he trying to convey?

“Don’t ask what Cael is wearing, Vivi,” Alda warned. “He’ll talk about it for the next hour.”

“This one is experimental,” Cael said. “So far, I haven’t been kicked out.”

“You weren’t even invited,” Alda said with a laugh, speaking rather loudly, when she suddenly realized the tables around them were silent.

Someone was staring them down. A face that Vivi still remembered from a few days ago, on Ranewal’s streets. Aolinn Ranewal, one of Helegar’s daughters, now wearing an even more extravagant red dress.

“The three of you,” Aolinn said, arms crossed assertively. “Out.”