Bump!
Bump!
Bump!
"Now, son! Let's talk about how you can excel in that snobby place!"
Bu'bump!
The engine of the Caravan roared over his voice as it rose and fell, recklessly charging up and down an endless sea of dunes.
Elyas's father was gripping the wheel tightly, sitting up like a panicked grandma, and turning to him every few seconds to finish his sentence.
Elyas was bumping up and down in his seat, ravaged by the terrain, flying for one second, crashing back down in another. But he also had a somewhat indifferent expression on his face as he listened to his father speak.
As if this were all a regular occurrence.
Keppa, meanwhile, was petrified.
The poor fella gripped the sides of his seat with all the strength he could muster, sweating profusely and not from the heat.
"Can... can you drive properly... You wretch!"
Elyas's father looked over his seat with a calm frown, foot still to the pedal, eyes not on the terrain.
"Oh Keppa!" He yelled over the engine. "You're still here! How nice!"
"Focus, Dad," Elyas asserted. "What were you saying?"
"Oh yes! First and foremost, the most important thing you should focus on during your time at Rosendale..."
"...Your... your finally going to teach your son about that system?" Keppa stuttered from his seat.
Both Elyas and his father tilted their heads at him in bewilderment.
"Huh? Why would I do that?" His father said, eyes off the terrain again.
"Yeah, why would he?! It's pretty self-explanatory!" Elyas added.
"Wait, son! Did it get your name right?!"
"Oh yeah! It did!"
"Ah, that's perfect. Anyway, first and foremost, what you should focus on most during your time at Rosendale is..."
And then, as if in sync, they both shouted as a matter of fact:
"Extortion!"
"What?!" Keppa forgot his fear for a moment and leaned forward between the two. "You told your son nothing about Coherency this whole time, and the first thing you'll teach him is extortion?!"
Elyas's father spun the wheel abruptly, dodging another precarious dune, and landed roughly at the next steady mound.
He shrugged.
"Well, what's the point? They're going to teach him that anyway. What they will not teach him, however, is the beautiful art of overpricing nonsense and marketing them accordingly!
Elyas pursed his lips and nodded in agreement.
"Truly a fine art."
"Anyhow, son! What you must know is that rich fools have all that they need, so the things they buy are for pretentious display! Whether it's clothing, gadgets, or food, it's all the same! What you need to do is find an underground, useless gadget or other nonsense, add some spices to it, and market it accordingly. Oh! And fake a backstory for each one! They drool over that stuff!"
Elyas had a coffee-stained notebook in his hand and was jotting down as fast as he could despite being flung left and right by the trip.
"Hey, pops! Should I use my desert background for some exotic embellishments?!"
His father slapped the dashboard in approval.
"That's my son! You truly are a fast learner!"
Keppa watched them, unpleasantly astounded, then huffed and sank back into his seat.
"Ugh, who knew his twentieth execution would be in Europe... Would you at least tell him something about the Celestial Realm?!"
Elyas's father chuckled and turned to Keppa with an impish grin, completely abandoning the wheel this time.
"Hey Keppa, are you prodding me to talk about all that stuff so you can pry?! I gotta tell you it's been a long time since I've been there, so my knowledge is quite obsolete, and even so, you know we're not allowed!"
Keppa scoffed.
"I don't care about all that stuff." He patted the newspaper at his side. "This is sufficient for me. Your son's success is my success, so I'd rather he goes prepared."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that! Getting accepted is all that you need. All he has to do from now on is uh... suck up to the elites' ego, mix with the masses, and the money won't stop flowing."
Keppa grinned. "Become a sycophant?"
"A good sycophant! Not those insufferable ones we see all the time! Keep in mind, those rich folk at Rosendale are the best of the best; they're trained from birth to snuff them out!"
Elyas looked up from his notebook with furrowed brows.
"By the way, Pops! How the hell did we get accepted?"
"Eh, someone owed me a favour of some sort. Oh, right! Write this down, too, Connections! Connections! Connections! No wait! I forgot that it goes both ways. Scratch that out!"
Elyas nodded and scratched it out.
***
A few hours later, they reached an abandoned, fissured airstrip nestled between two especially massive and imposing dunes.
They looked like two mountains at this point.
It was sunset, so the weather was quite pleasant when Elyas stepped out of the Caravan.
He sighed in pleasure as a gentle breeze caressed his sweaty face.
He stretched his limbs and moved aside for a disoriented, road-sick Keppa and his jolly father to step out.
"I say, son, it truly is a beautiful evening."
Near the horizon, cradled between the two dunes, the blue ceded to coral, amber, then to crimson as they all wreathed the fickle sun.
Elyas pondered the view with a wistful smile.
'Goodness. Sometimes you're pretty; sometimes you're ruthless.'
"You're right, Dad. Would've been an amazing day for a looting!"
"Truer words have rarely been said, son!"
Keppa was hunched over near the back of the Caravan, retching and moaning in discomfort.
"Can... can you guys stop shouting for goodness' sake!"
Elyas went over to aid Keppa regain his footing.
"Mister Keppa, the weather is nice now. You wanna head back?"
Keppa shook his head in frustration.
"Are you serious?! I take a nap by accident, and get woken up to you two surfing on sand with a hunk of steel for hours, and now you tell me to head back?!"
Elyas's father hummed in thought and rubbed his scruffy chin.
"Hm, he truly does have a point. But son, do you think this is all an excuse to spend extra time with us?"
Keppa jerked up at them, "What?!"
Elyas frowned and nodded.
"True. That sounds very probable. I mean, we are a pleasant bunch."
Keppa stood straight with effort, hand on his protruding belly and shook his head ardently, wanting to protest.
"Are you wretches mad?!"
"So, pops!" Elyas said, moving on from teasing Keppa. "When's your buddy coming?"
His father scratched his head.
"It does look like we're a bit early... Well then, it's the perfect time for my parting gift."
Elyas perked in surprise.
"Gift?!"
"Well, yes, of course, son. What kind of father would I be not to give my son a parting gift?!"
Elyas beamed an excited smile, eyes twinkling in suspense.
"Hell yeah, Dad! So where is it?! Wait, please tell me it's a Cup Noodle!"
"I'm afraid not, son!"
His father paused, distracted, then stared blankly into nothing, mumbling something indiscernible to himself.
'Oh, he's checking the system? Wait... Is it what I think it is?'
"Well, son, I will teach you one thing about the Crimson System."
His father suddenly nicked his palm on a small blade protruding from his sash.
It was a shallow cut, but enough for a few blood drops to well in his hand.
Elyas and Keppa were watching him intently, brimming with anticipation.
It truly was a rare thing to see a Coherent display their abilities, no matter how mild.
"Son, can you... uh... can you come over and do the same?"
Elyas obliged. He walked over, nicked his palm on his father's sash, then cradled the blood cautiously in his hand.
"What do we do?" He asked impatiently.
"What we do after every successful loot, but this time, hold it for a few seconds."
Elyas grinned, wound back his arm in sync with his father, then they clasped each other in the middle with a clapping sound mixed with the wet splattering of blood.
They locked their hands for a few seconds, while his father stared blankly into nothing.
Then, after a few seconds, Elyas saw the familiar crimson message pop up before him, suspended mystically in mid-air.
< You have received an Anchor >
"Woah!"
His father smirked, detached their clasp, and whipped his wrist, flinging away blood.
"I'm assuming you got it then?"
Elyas nodded in astonishment, still staring at mid-air.
Hovering before him:
Name: [ Elyas ]
Coherency: [ ... ]
Coherency Level: [ ... ]
Anchors: [ Brass Mask, ... ]
Blood Potency: [ ... ]
"Anchor?" He muttered enquiringly.
"Yes. It's your uh... blood belongings. They coalesce from your blood when you uh... 'will them and bleed'. Don't worry about it now, you're not an Imitator yet."
"Ah huh," Elyas mumbled absentmindedly, still staring excitedly at his first ever personal belonging.
'Life does seem to be looking good, huh, Elyas?'
And just as he was about to express his wholehearted gratitude, the sound of an engine rumbling reached them from afar behind one of the dunes.