Asheva: A Summoner’s Tale – [Book-2 Complete]

Chapter-28 Modification



From this chapter on, I'll be leaving the status panel below the chapter in the spoiler.  It'll be updated properly with the events of the same chapter, so you might see less of those panels inside the chapters now but you can still check all the progress with the table down below.
That'll be all, here's the chapter, enjoy.

[Ewan]

Ewan grinned at the frosted and frigid test tube as a snow-white watery liquid sloshed in it. The taste of success after so many failures was utterly delightful, it blew away all his negative thoughts and boosted his confidence. He could create the rest of the potions needed for this technique with enough practice, he was sure now.

Eagerness filled him; he couldn’t wait to use the potion. His <Identify> spell already confirmed its effect, there were no problems with it. He loaded the potion into the injector gun he purchased from the hub and shot it into his left-hand vein.
A metallic taste invaded his palate and throat as the icy liquid traveled up his arm, leaving behind a thin layer of frost on his skin in its wake. Ewan used his spirit to lead the liquid to his heart and trapped it there; his chest chilled, and wintry mist seeped out of his mouth and nose.

Once it settled down, the potion took effect and webbed his heart, modifying it with every passing second. Ewan clutched his chest and groaned; each heartbeat assaulted him with a wave of pain. The chilled air felt colder, even in his thick ivory down-jacket, he shivered—goosebumps ran on his skin. Gradually, the pain subsided, and he hugged himself into silence, his head buried in his chest. His breaths were quiet and regular, but his back still trembled from the cold. The chills spreading away from his heart didn’t help his state either, it made it worse instead. His fingers and toes numbed; he couldn’t feel them anymore.
He tried to shout and call Orange, yet all that came out was a shaking whisper and a steamed breath. He was his Astylind though, connected to him with his soul. His thoughts were all Ewan needed to convey his intentions.

Orange!

The little monkey jumped out of the cardboard maze and beelined to Ewan while screeching; Frost stopped practicing too and rushed to him. Orange jumped on his shoulder and vented his Fire-Anima. He didn’t use its explosive nature but heated up the surroundings.

The temperature rose and Ewan gained some respite, he stopped shivering and his goosebumps settled down. The warmth countered the frigid wave spreading inside his body and balanced his condition. He didn’t take any other measure against it though. This was the process of modification, he had to go through this if he wanted to complete the technique. In hindsight, it would’ve been better to use this potion later when Frosthelm season was gone. The fire potion instead would’ve been a better choice for this weather. Nonetheless, the past was past. He could only learn from it, not change it.

After a good while, the biting chill died down and he slouched back on the chair. Orange grabbed his hair and jumped up and down on his shoulders, squeaking with every landing. Frost stood still on the table, his steady gaze reflecting Ewan’s drained figure.

It’s over now.

There were still several potions he had to go through. But for now, he relished the success with a weak yet satisfied smile.

…..

Stubborn dark clouds hid the moons, even the tree bending wind couldn’t move them. Ewan perched atop the artistic false chimney, the peak of his mansion, his hair dancing wild with the gale. His eyes shone an emerald-green and gave off a predator’s aura. Everything in his neighborhood was crystal clear to him, even in the dim and dark night.

Nana slumped out cold in her balcony as always, a bottle of half-empty dark rum dangling in her hand. She still wore her uniform and had no blanket on; it was a wonder how she survived the wintry nights.
His childhood friend, Verina, giggled on the phone in her bedroom; her parents bickered in theirs.
The young couple cuddled in the same quilt on their porch, across from his house, and drank from the same mug of steaming beverage. Even the bleak wind couldn’t dissipate the pink warmth around them.

Ewan looked towards Nana again, his green irises quivered—she was different today. From the low-proof liquors to the high-proof rum, she upped her alcohol game. She might be at her limit… If her life continued like this, he might hear about her never waking up soon, and the thought filled him with fraught. He gazed at her, his heart in turmoil. But after a few minutes of tumbling thoughts and considerations, he suppressed his urge to help her. She chose her way of life, and with their relationship in tatters, he couldn’t deny her choice, even if he wanted to. His unsolicited help might even aggravate her situation, he didn’t want to risk damage to her or their already frayed connection.

He sighed and jumped off the chimney, landing in the balcony on all fours. His knees bent and his fingers absorbed the shock, a silent touch down. It felt good to follow the lingering instinct in his soul from time to time, orgasmic even, especially when he suppressed it for so long. But he couldn’t let it dictate his life.

He lounged on the recliner and sipped the warm milk left on the table.

“Blegh, so fucking bland.”

He stirred in almost ten times the sugar he used to add. Yet, it still tasted vapid. Some changes were favorable to him, but others only left him bitter. At this point, he could only wish the negative effects would mellow out in the future and he would be able to taste sweet food again.

He chugged the milk and put the mug back on the table. Even if it tasted flat, he still needed to drink it. Wiping his mouth, he took out a test tube half-filled with an orange liquid. It was the fire potion, needed for the ‘Elementalist’ modification. Ninth attempt marked his success this time, much better than his fifteen trials last time. Frosthelm wasn’t over yet, far from it actually. The freezing weather could counter the side effects of this potion—the reason he chose it.

He brought Frost out from inside the ice rune and punctured himself with the injector gun. The warmth of the liquid turned searing hot as it traveled along his vein. The metallic taste filled his mouth and throat again as he used his spirit and guided the potion to his heart. And his chest singed from the inside, it was several times worse than any heartburn he ever had.

The modification part came next, the same torturous pain would soon ensue. Ewan only hoped the weather and Frost’s support would be enough to ease it.


Spoiler

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