Riku stood in the muddy street, feeling somewhat useful. The excitement from the hopefuls still in line was a physical force pushing him away. He needed to get out of there before someone asked him to make them a pretty light show.
He wandered, aimless, until the shacks of the openly gave way to a slightly less messed up market square. He found a relatively dry crate tucked beside a stall selling what looked like used nails and sat down, his head in his hands.
"A toy maker," he muttered to a puddle near his feet. "My ultimate power is to be mildly distracting. Yes."
The puddle looked him back. Don't know if he was expecting an answer or something.
He held out his hand again, concentrating. The fear from the exam, the humiliation - it was easy to tap into. The little toy soldier came back into existence on his palm. It was still pathetically small. He willed it to be bigger. Nothing. He tried to make it move. It remained stubbornly stiff.
"Great. A static asset." He sighed. "Can't even rig it for animation."
He was so focused on his failure that he didn't notice the commotion at first. A sharp cry cut through the market's murmur, followed by a wave of dread. People scrambled back from a narrow alleyway, screaming for help.
A creature oozed out of the shadows. It was about the size of a large dog, a formless blob of deep grey mist. In its center glowed two dots of sickly green light. It let out a low, gurgling wail that sounded like a sink draining. A description box popped into Riku's mind:
[Lesser Spirit. Tier 5. Feeds on sorrow and fear. Low threat.]
"Wha?" He raised an eyebrow. The hell was this now? A guide? He decided to come back to that later.
Low threat or not, the crowd panicked. A woman sobbed, clutching a child. The spirit seemed to swell at the sound, absorbing the misery.
Riku's first instinct was to run. His second, more stubborn instinct, was that of a programmer facing a bug. It's just a low-level mob.
Then he saw the boy. A kid, no older than six, had tripped and fallen right in the thing's path. The boy was frozen, body locked out of pure unfiltered terror. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape as he tried to yell but was too scared to.
The spirit shifted, sensing a different, more powerful emotion. It began to glide toward the boy.
"Hey!" someone yelled. Though it was a useless sound.
Riku's body moved before his brain could formulate a plan. Of course he wasn't a warrior. He had no sword, no fireballs. He had a single, stupid, useless toy soldier.
He sprinted forward, skidding to a halt between the boy and the blob. The spirit gurgled, intrigued.
Channel your energy. But not into the stupid crystal. Into the design.
He didn't know what he was trying to do at all. He just thought of the most basic, universal object of distraction he knew. A shiny thing. He focused on the boy's fear, felt a tiny trickle of energy, and pushed it out.
A glowing, slightly wobbly orb of light, about the size of a grapefruit, popped into existence a few feet to the spirit's left. It pulsed with a soft, warm yellow glow.
The spirit stopped. Its dot eyes glancing toward the orb. It gurgled, confused. It was a simple creature, drawn to emotion, and this shiny new thing was… interesting.
Riku held his breath. The orb flickered. Low mana. Great.
"Come on, you overgrown dust bunny," he whispered. "Go for the shiny thingy."
The spirit took a tentative lurch toward the orb.
That was the opening. Riku scooped up the terrified boy, shoved him toward the sobbing woman, and turned back to his creation. The spirit was now nudging the orb with its misty form.
A man with a sword finally lunged out from the crowd, slashing the spirit. The spirit, distracted and now cleaved in two, dissolved into smoke under the man's assault. Without a word he left.
The danger was over. The market fell into a stunned silence, then erupted into relieved chatter.
The woman rushed to Riku, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you! Thank you so much, sir!"
"Uh. Yeah. No problem," Riku said, his heart hammering against his ribs. Sir? He'd just thrown a glowing ball. He felt like a fraud.
As the woman's fear turned to grateful relief, the trickle of energy he'd felt vanished. He was running on empty again.
He became aware of someone watching him. Leaning against a wall across the square was a woman. She had short black hair and wore sturdy, travel-worn leathers, not Ascendancy grey. A long, well-used knife was strapped to her thigh. She was looking at him with an expression that wasn't quite admiration or pity. It seemed more like curiosity.
She pushed off the wall and walked over, her steps quiet but confident. She stopped in front of him, her eyes scanning him up and down.
"So," she said, her voice a low, dry rasp. "You're the toy maker."
Riku winced. "It's called…uhh" He tried thinking of a suitable name for his ability. "It's called 'The Architect's Design,' actually."
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Architect, huh? Looked like you just threw a glowing rock at a feelings-blob."
"...It was a strategically deployed diversionary asset."
"Whoa, where'd those words come from? Relax." She snorted. A short, sharp sound. "Right. Well, 'Architect,' your asset worked. Most of the geniuses they let into the Ascendancy would have just tried to punch it." She jerked her head toward the alley. "Name's Kayra. I'm quite interested in you, but don't get me wrong. I'm interested in your head, not the rest of you." She cleared her throat. "You don't panic. That's something. You hungry?"
Riku's stomach answered for him with a loud grumble.
Kayra's smirk widened. "Thought so. Come on. I know a place that serves a meat pie that's only half questionable. We'll call it your first lesson."
"Lesson in what?"
"In not dying," she said, already walking away. "And in figuring out what the hell to do with that glorified nightlight you call a power."