Veil of Aether

Time passed slowly in the Temporal Zone. Kei continued hauling stones day after day, muscles screaming with each repetition, while Silvie rotated between chores—cooking, cleaning, laundry, and whatever other tasks were pushed onto the women of the village.

Despite the grind, Kei kept their training at the forefront of everything. Physical fitness was non-negotiable, especially with how frail their temporary bodies were. To rebuild their strength, proper nutrition was key.

Kei handled that in two ways—by hunting whenever possible and scouring the village for cheap vegetables. Silvie, on the other hand, turned those vegetables into cheat codes. With just a pulse of her Nature Force, even wilted produce became nutrient-rich, far beyond anything the local markets could offer.

Together, they carved out their edge— one day at a time.

“Uuuggghhh…” The frail kid at Kei’s job groaned, struggling to push his stone toward its destination. He was weaker than anyone else on-site—bone-thin, shaking with effort, sweat soaking through his tattered shirt.

But no one paid him any mind. Everyone had their own struggles. This world didn’t hand out sympathy. If anything, it punished you harder for needing it.

Kei, however, watched him a little longer than most. Something didn’t sit right.

“Hey, Inpu,” Kei called out, “why do you strain yourself like that? You know there’s an easier way to push these things. Everyone else keeps it simple.”

Inpu—who Kei had met during a brief lunch break—paused, panting as he leaned against the stone. “The way they do it is wrong,” he said without hesitation. “It lacks balance. The force is distributed unevenly, always favoring one side. That bothers me. I think it should move like it’s on a perfectly balanced scale.”

He gave a weak laugh, but his expression didn’t match the sound. It was oddly serious.

Kei frowned. “Right, but… given your condition, don’t you think you should make it easier on yourself? You don’t eat enough to recover from that kind of strain. One of these days, you’re going to collapse. Looks like death and decay are already eyeing you.”

“Heh… you’re not the first person to tell me that,” Inpu replied, still smiling. “But thank you.”

Before he could finish that thought, Kei was already beside him, silently placing his hands against the stone.

“Just tell me where you want it,” Kei said, offering a small grin.

Inpu blinked, surprised for a moment. Then he nodded. “Thank you, Khenu.”

Together, they got to work.

After finishing their grueling day of work, Kei and Inpu dragged their tired bodies to the canteen, having hauled and placed stones exactly how Inpu liked—balanced, aligned, and precise.

Their stomachs rumbled as they received the same bland slop served every day, but Kei made his way back to his usual corner, unwrapping the cooked goat meat he’d prepared earlier that morning.

It wasn’t strange—many brought food from home when they could afford to—but the scent of Kei’s meal was impossible to ignore. Smoky, savory, and rich. A few heads turned his way, but no one said anything.

Inpu, as usual, sat at the table next to him. Kei noticed the kid sneaking glances. If it were possible to eat with your nose, Inpu would've devoured his whole hand by now—bones and all.

Kei sighed and handed over a portion of the meat.

“I can’t,” Inpu said weakly.

“I can’t keep watching a corpse pretend it’s still alive,” Kei shot back. “Eat. Or I swear I’ll shove it down your throat myself. You’re always rambling about balance—well, your diet’s about to be balanced, or else.”

Faced with that threat, Inpu grabbed the food like his life depended on it—and maybe it did. “Th-thank you!” he stammered before digging in. A moment later, his eyes widened.

“Hmmmm, this is really good,” he mumbled between bites, already halfway through the portion.

Kei didn’t say anything. He just leaned back, watching the frail kid eat like it was the first time he’d tasted real food.

Some of the eyes that had lingered on Kei’s food couldn’t hold back any longer. Inpu’s satisfied moans broke whatever pride they were clinging to, and soon Kei found himself surrounded by hungry, questioning stares.

“Hey, Khenu… did you cook that goat meat?” one of the men finally asked.

Kei gave a casual shrug. “Yeah. Since the food around here’s basically sludge, I figured I might as well learn to cook—at least try to enjoy what little we get.”

“Umm… do you think we could maybe get some too?” another man asked, only to get smacked upside the head.

“Are you stupid? You know how expensive food is out here,” the man beside him snapped. “He probably can’t even afford to feed himself properly. What makes you think he’s got enough to feed you?”

Still, the scolded man grinned and leaned closer to Kei. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sparingme a few pieces, right?”

Before things could spiral, voices started overlapping—men arguing, trying to win Kei over, some even subtly threatening to take it by force.

In the middle of it all, Inpu simply sat beside Kei, swinging his legs like none of it mattered, still chewing with contentment.

Kei stood up quickly, trying to calm the growing commotion. “Relax. I should have enough goat meat for everyone.”

That stopped a few of them in their tracks.

“Wait, where’d you even get that much meat?” one guy asked, suspicious.

Kei gave him a blank look. “Mind your business. Do you want food or not?”

The guy blinked, then let out a dry laugh, clutching his stomach. “Yeah… yeah, I want food.”

The others nodded, tension fading as the scent of roasted meat filled the air.

Just as everyone started getting excited about the promise of food, a soft, frail voice cut through their joy like a blade.

“What will you give him in return?” Inpu asked calmly. “There has to be balance between people. So how exactly will he benefit from feeding you?”

A few men scowled, not pleased to have their free meal questioned. But the sharper ones, the ones paying attention, noticed how close Inpu seemed to be to Kei—and wisely held their tongues.

“We could… offer to help out,” one of them said. “Push your stones, maybe do some chores?”

But not all were so tactful. The less educated, the more prideful, lashed back.

“Mind your damn business, kid,” one of them snapped. “You already reek of death—don’t make me speed up your trip to the afterlife.”

The air turned tense, violence close.

But before anything could escalate, Kei raised a hand, voice calm. “No need for threats. He’s not wrong.”

He stood up straight, stretching slightly, arms still sore from the day’s labor. “It takes coin, time, and effort for me to hunt, cook, and carry all this food here. Like the kid said—why should I get nothing out of it?”

He rolled his shoulders, flexing casually. “Moving stones is good exercise. I’m sure there are other ways you guys could help.”

The message was clear: if they wanted a taste, they had to earn it.

As the crowd dispersed—some conflicted, others grumbling about having to do extra work for Kei’s food—Kei and Inpu were left alone at their table.

“You’re really married to this whole ‘balance’ thing, huh?” Kei asked.

“I don’t know,” Inpu replied, eyes drifting toward the cloudy sky. “It just feels… natural. Like it’s a part of me. If everything stayed balanced on a scale, then only good things would follow. I can’t explain it well—it’s like a path existence picked for me.”

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Kei snorted. “Just don’t get yourself killed chasing some abstract idea of balance.”

Inpu chuckled, a soft, almost hollow sound. “Who knows… maybe me passing awaywould balance something. One life enters the world, another leaves. Circle of life, right?”

Kei shifted uncomfortably, the joke landing wrong in his gut. He made sure Inpu saw the look on his face. “Yeah… don’t joke like that.”

Inpu just smiled, swinging his legs under the bench, as if the weight of life and death was something that never quite touched him.

“Really though,” Inpu asked, worry creeping into his voice, “how are you going to get enough food for everyone?”

“I hunted a goat earlier,” Kei replied. “Still have enough left to feed everyone.”

“Wait, seriously?” Inpu blinked, clearly shocked. “That’s really impressive. I’m surprised you weren’t killed… you must be kind of amazing.”

Kei shrugged. “Wasn’t that difficult, honestly. And besides, I need the food to survive in a world like this. At this point, it’s either die of weakness or risk my life to get stronger and aim for better opportunities. Dying hungry sounds worse than getting gored by a goat.”

He squeezed his fist, eyes firm with conviction.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Inpu nodded. “Who knows—maybe one day you’ll be strong enough to clear a Zone and earn real equipment. You might even train in Force and land a military position.”

Kei glanced over, lips twitching into a half-smile. “Why don’t you join me, then? If you’re scared, don’t worry—I’ve got someone else helping too. And maybe one day, we’ll both be able to clear at least a fractioned Zone.”

Zones—the world’s equivalent to dungeons. Fractioned Zones were considered incomplete or damaged, often seen as the safest entry point for those desperate to gain strength and claw their way out of poverty.

“You ever stop to think this whole balance thing—life and death, scales and all that—might be tied to your Force?” Kei asked as they got up to leave. “If it is, you might end up being really powerful.”

“Me? Powerful?” Inpu looked down at his hands, slowly clenching his fists. “If you really think I wouldn’t be a burden… I’d like to join you. And your friend.”

Kei didn’t respond. He just waved a hand over his shoulder, walking ahead without looking back. That was enough of an answer for Inpu.

On his way back home, Kei made a quick stop at the vendor who’d sold him the goat meat on credit.

“Hey Sue, busy today?”

“Hey kid. Just the usual grind,” she replied, wiping her hands. “Looks like you’re less than half-dead today—you must be eating well.” Despite the scar cutting across her lip, there was a crooked grin as she teased him.

Kei had somehow managed to charm her enough to get on her good side—something that, as locals would say, was nearly impossible.

“You got any hauls for me today?” she asked. “I’ve sold most of the goats you brought in. If you’re feeling brave, you could try hunting something different, but honestly, you still look too scrawny to handle anything tougher.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kei admitted with a shrug, not giving her a chance to dig into him further.

She groaned. “Ugh, you’re no fun.”

Resting her cleaver on her shoulder, she added, “If you ever need more work, let me know. I’ll fatten you up one way or another.”

Kei laughed and chatted with her a bit longer before heading out.

Back at home, Silvie hadn’t returned yet. Kei’s muscles screamed in protest after the long day, but he still forced himself through a workout. No matter how exhausted he was, discipline came first.

Silvie, meanwhile, had been helping Mia. She’d been by her side all afternoon, making the girl’s day-to-day chores less painful on her brittle body.

“Thank you, Sanu. You’re so kind. I really can’t thank you enough,” Mia said softly—then her voice cracked, and tears began to fall before she could stop them.

“You okay?” Silvie asked, concerned.

Mia shook her head and tried to collect herself. “No, it’s fine… it’s just—I'm struggling to support myself and my friend. Your help really made a difference, especially financially. But the landlord noticed I suddenly had more coin than usual, and now he’s raised the rent. I can’t afford it anymore.”

Unseen by Mia, the nature around the village reacted to Silvie’s rising anger. Leaves rustled despite the still air, and faint tremors rippled through the ground, as if the world itself shared her rage.

“Don’t worry about it,” Silvie said, voice low but firm. “Come over to my place for dinner tonight. We’ll figure something out. And don’t say no—you’re too weak. Either you come with me willingly, or I drag you there.”

Her sudden firmness shocked Mia so much that the normally polite girl forgot to even say thank you.

And just like that, Kei found himself with two unexpected guests as Silvie returned home after work with Kei M and Mia.

As they stepped through the door, they found Kei mid-workout—drenched in sweat, muscles trembling, but still pushing through the pain.

Noticing the extra footsteps, Kei glanced over with a smirk. “Well Sanu, looks like it finally happened—you grew more feet. Honestly thought you’d grow more stomachs first with the way you eat, but maybe your body’s just prepping to support the extra weight.”

Before he could even blink, Silvie’s foot shot out and cracked him hard in the ribs.

“Didn’t you say she was sweet and gentle?” Kei M whispered to Mia as they both watched Kei hit the ground, groaning.

“After today… I’m not so sure anymore,” Mia replied, wide-eyed.

Kei Y groaned, still lying on the floor. “Oh hey, Kei. Good to see you again.”

Kei M shook his head. “Looks like you nearly got killed again, Khenu. Wish I could say you’re looking better.”

Meanwhile, Silvie calmly helped Mia to a seat, as if she hadn’t just committed first-degree assault.

“Umm… hello. I’m Mia,” she said softly. “Nice to meet you, Khenu.”

“You really are cute, just like Sanu said,” Kei Y replied, offering a friendly smile that made Mia blush. “I’m guessing you’re here for food?”

“Yeah, that… and a little more,” Kei M said. “We’re being priced out of our place. Hope you don’t mind if we stay here for a bit.”

He looked at Kei seriously. “To pay you back, I can help with hunting. Or, if you’re up for it, there’s a fragmented zone I know. Might have some treasures—or even a force technique.”

“Don’t worry about it. If Sanu’s willing to help you, then you must be good people—and honestly, I’m scared to say no to her now,” Kei Y laughed, glancing over with a grin. “But it might get a bit cramped in here, especially for someone who breaks easy,” he added, shooting a look at Mia, who recoiled slightly, guilt flickering across her face.

“Don’t worry about that,” Kei Y said, casually waving it off. “From all the goats we killed together, I used the wool to make bedding. Should be fine for her, and the rest of us can figure out sleeping spots—even if they’re a bit awkward.”

As he spoke, he dusted himself off and started prepping the cooking area.

“I’m serious, Khenu. I’m not looking for handouts—I’m going to help however I can,” Kei M said, tone firm.

But Kei Y simply waved him off again, more focused on getting things ready.

Kei M paused, eyes narrowing as he noticed something. Kei Y had charged a bit of aether between his hands and was using the heat it generated to light up the stove.

“Woah—you can use aether? That’s seriously impressive,” Kei M said, intrigued. “But if you can do that, why not just activate the rune on the stove? Wouldn’t that be way easier than... whatever you’re doing?”

When they’d first arrived in the settlement, they’d been caught completely off guard by the use of runes—something everyone else seemed to understand as basic knowledge. Their confusion over them had made it painfully obvious they weren’t from around here.

Runes, as they quickly learned, were structured formations made from strokes—each stroke carrying a distinct function. When arranged properly, the strokes formed a rune that acted like a pre-coded command, channeling Force to perform a specific task. It wasn’t unlike activating system-based skills, but it was far more hands-on and versatile.

To Kei Y, it felt like a fusion of calligraphy and coding—a way to directly write instructions into the world itself. He’d been fascinated the moment he saw it, eyes lighting up with excitement like a kid locked overnight in a candy store.

“Yeah, it’s just a bit tricky to understand. I haven’t had much luck with fire runes yet,” Kei Y admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “But I do know some basic wind runes. I can make a gust of wind.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand and drew a few strokes through the air. Aether trailed from his fingertips, forming a clear rune midair—his fingers acting as a brush, his will the ink. A gentle pulse of wind rippled through the room.

Kei M blinked, mouth slightly open.

Most runes were created using special quills—tools refined to channel aether efficiently and precisely. They were expensive, rare, and typically reserved for professionals. In fact, some high-tier quills were so valuable that even minor royalty couldn’t afford them. With the right inscriptions and Force inputs, they could level entire villages. But what Kei Y had just done was beyond that.

He hadn’t just drawn a rune—he had become the quill.

That kind of natural aether control and precision was the stuff of legend. In most places, someone showing that level of innate ability would be either hunted down to be controlled or killed off to remove the threat.

Kei Y glanced at Kei M, realizing the silence had stretched too long. He saw the wide eyes and frozen posture. Damn. I showed too much.

To brush it off, Kei Y quickly shifted gears. “Don’t think too much about it. Just a parlor trick—like how you throw your rope rock and convince yourself it’s a weapon.”

Kei M snapped out of it, chuckling weakly. “That’s one hell of a parlor trick,” he said. “But yeah, you’re right. Just... be careful not to show that kind of thing too casually. Some of those royal brats would skin you alive if you outshined them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“To repay you for letting us stay here, how about I help you cook?” Kei M offered, already rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t give Kei Y a chance to say no.

Silvie and Kei Y exchanged a glance. She had witnessed Kei do the same thing once before—and could do it herself. But what happened next still caught them both off guard.

Kei M raised his hand and drew a few swift, confident strokes in the air. Aether shimmered around his fingers, each line resonating with a low hum. As he tweaked the strokes, the vibration intensified—building pitch, layering frequencies, until the air itself began to tremble.

Then—pop.

The vibrations peaked and ignited into flame as they resonated directly with the fire rune carved into the stove. The rune flared to life, sparked entirely through sound.

He had activated a fire rune by using resonance, tuning the vibrations of the strokes like musical notes until they aligned with the rune’s activation frequency—something extremely rare and difficult to pull off.

“Luckily for you,” Kei M smirked, wiping his nose, “I’m really good with runes too.”

Almost immediately after the flare-up, his knees buckled slightly, and he had to sit down, woozy and breathless.

“Too bad my body sucks at storing aether,” he muttered, exhaling sharply. “I can barely light a stove before it knocks me on my ass…”

“Such a bizarre day,” Silvie murmured as she turned her attention back to Mia, trying to pretend none of this surprised her.

Back at Inpu’s house…

Inpu sat alone, legs folded on the thin bedding, eyes shadowed beneath the flickering candlelight. The dim room was silent save for the occasional creak of wood or the distant murmurs of neighbors.

“Hunting… Fractured Zones… Me?” he murmured.

His hands tightened into fists.

“It’s crazy to think I could ever amount to anything,” he said, voice tinged with self-doubt. “But maybe… maybe I should try.”

He stood up, facing the cracked mirror nailed to the wall. His pale reflection stared back—thin, fragile, and marked by sickness—but in his eyes, something changed.

Resolve.

“No,” he whispered, voice growing colder. “I have to try. Before I die, I’m going to exact my revenge. I’ll drag them down with me.”

His breath fogged the mirror slightly, his fists trembling.

Whatever kindness lingered in his expression vanished in that moment, replaced by a chilling calm.

His eyes were no longer soft—they were focused. Icy. Determined.

The storm hadn’t arrived yet.

But the clouds were forming.