Eliona's War 3: Lethal Healer

Ch. 2

There was a large mirror hanging on the wall before Seth Veregin, just to the left of where the treadmill was parked. He had to turn his head a little, but he could see his entire reflection as he dutifully jogged on the treadmill.

It was eerie.

The more he stared, the more he didn't recognize the person within the glass.

It hadn't been all that long ago when he'd been just another average 18-year-old. Not too short, not too tall, with ordinary features rounded out by a little extra insulation. His hair was a boring dark brown, and his eyes a blue-gray shade that, while just so-so on him, happened to look absolutely stunning on his twin sister, Carly. He wasn't much to look at, really.

And that was fine. He was comfortable with how things were, because he'd rather fade into the background than stand out. He'd learned it was better to not get noticed.

But somehow the last several weeks had turned that reflection into a stranger. The person he saw now was lean, with a sharp jaw line and cheekbones that were more prominent than he'd remembered. Dark shadows shrouded his eyes, which were a startling lavender-blue. The look in those eyes was as alien as the color; something grim and solemn lurked within them, and even though Seth knew those eyes were his, he couldn't bring himself to look at them too long.

Instead, he lowered his attention to the reflection's body, watching how the legs stretched out in smooth, efficient strides. Each toe touched down as light as a feather, accompanied by an unnatural silence. The rhythmic beat of feet striking the moving belt of the machine didn't exist. He might as well have been gliding on air.

As effortless as it looked, Seth himself was sweating, his breath coming in ragged pants. His body instinctively knew how to move, but he lacked the stamina and strength to maintain it for very long. Part of it was his own average-to-poor physical fitness, but there also was a lingering weakness due to his stint in the hospital.

Today was especially rough. He'd awakened more exhausted than he'd been before going to bed, and now all he could wonder was how long he had before the Tower sucked all the life from him. He'd already lost a lot of weight. And with how pale his skin looked in the mirror, he might as well be half-dead.

"Time," came a mild voice from behind. Deep and resonant, it held a steady calm, like a rock that never budged no matter how the waves battered at it.

Too winded to speak, Seth simply pressed the button on the treadmill. The machine stopped. Grasping the hand bar for support, he stepped off, all too aware of the soft toe-first touch of his foot.

He dragged a hand across his face, taking a moment to briefly press cold fingertips against his temples. The pressure eased some of the ache that had lingered there for days now.

The Veiled had left their mark on him. So much so, that it followed him across worlds. He swallowed. His throat was painfully dry.

"Water." A large, brown hand held out a water bottle to him. Its cap was already removed.

Seth grunted his thanks and took it. As he took a long swig, he eyed Chadley, the owner of this little gym.

Chadley, with the exception of his twin Jake, was the largest man Seth had ever met. He had arms almost as thick as Seth's waist, and shoulders like a freight train. It made for a very intimidating presence, especially with those pale gray, watchful eyes of his.

Maybe that was why Chad's Pad had yet to be broken into. It was on a street where every other building suffered broken windows and busted locks, where each narrow alley was filled with stinking trash and used needles and where each resident walked with hunched shoulders and shifty eyes, their hands buried in the large pockets of their oversized coats. Seth had asked once why Chadley chose this area for his business, but all he'd gotten out of the man was a half-hearted grunt.

He drained half the bottle before he handed it back to Chadley. The man set it on a small table against the wall and then regarded Seth calmly.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," lied Seth.

He didn't think he'd ever be 'okay' again. Not when the walls were closing in and everything was even more insane than he could have imagined.

"Hm." The big man considered this. Then, a long moment later, he asked, "Eat?"

Seth rubbed at his eyes, holding back a sigh. "I ate before coming here."

What he didn't say that all he managed to eat were two spoons of some strawberry yogurt he'd found in his fridge. That was something he definitely hadn't bought, yet there it was in his fridge all the same. He suspected it was Mrs. Beakor trying to sneak actual food into his apartment. It was something she'd totally do when he wasn't looking.

"Hm." Chadley's quiet gaze seemed slightly doubtful, but thankfully he didn't press any further. Instead, he pointed at the coiled skipping rope in the corner. "Two."

Just two? Seth wondered.

Yesterday, Chadley had made him go for three minutes. But he wasn't about to complain. He went to the corner, grabbed the rope, and got started on a steady pace. The rope slapped against the floor with every turn.

He didn't mind skipping. It was a mindless exercise, one that he could do while his thoughts drifted off to other things. Like the conversation he had with Olen. Even now, he still had trouble believing that it had actually happened and that it wasn't some twisted dream.

Not once had he even considered where the ability to use impossible skills came from. A cryomancer's ice, a battle dancer's lightening, a tank's invulnerability—all those things were beyond a human's natural ability. It took a Tower to bring that into reality at the expense of vast quantities of energy. Which, Seth now knew, came primarily from the players themselves.

He wondered if anyone else felt chronically exhausted. Or if they'd burnt so much that they lost dozens of pounds in a matter of weeks. Though in Seth's case, a hospital stay followed by lots of exercise and stress could have the same effect.

Maybe he should ask Jack Coyote. Though as soon as he had the thought, he dismissed it. That was kind of a huge clan secret, and while the golden-eyed player was well aware that Eliona was as real as it got, Seth wasn't about to go spill the beans. Not, at least, until he knew for certain what Jack's intentions were.

"Next."

Startled by the sudden interruption, Seth's foot caught on the rope and stopped it in its tracks. He blinked.

"Ah. Right."

He returned the rope to its place, then made his way to the mirror and the mat that lay on the floor. His least favorite part always came after the jump rope. Push-ups, and then after that, planks and burpees followed by whatever random torture Chadley had in mind for the day.

With an unhappy sigh, Seth began the first set of push-ups. The only good thing about them was the noticeable improvement. When he had first started, he'd barely managed to do two in a row without having a stroke. Now, he could get through a whole set, if only with much wheezing and shaking.

Dhin would be so proud, he thought wryly. Maybe if he kept this up, he'd no longer have to put up with being called Twiggy.

He made it through the first set of all the usual exercises, and just started on the second. His muscles burned and trembled, even worse than usual, and he just knew this was going to be miserable. But he grit his teeth and pushed on anyway.

"Enough."

Like a puppet with cut strings, Seth dropped to the mat. He lay on his stomach and turned his head so he could see Chadley's sneakers approach.

"We're done already?"

He wheezed out the words one at a time. His head pounded so loudly, he wondered if his heart had switched places with his brain. It felt like something was beating rapidly on the inside of his skull.

"Done," Chadley confirmed in his deep voice.

Oh thank God. Seth decided that he approved very much of that plan. He lay without moving, idly observing Chadley's shoes. There was a scuff mark on the otherwise pristine white soles. Did Chadley know it was there?

"Wash," Chadley suggested.

He meant that Seth should make his way to the gym's washroom and clean up. Seth had brought a change of clothes as well, but that was in a backpack near the back of the room.
It was too far away, though.

"Urghfhl," he grumbled.

The door to Chad's Pad opened. Someone came in, and almost immediately, Seth heard a deep chuckle

"Chadley, wherever did you find that rug? It looks like the perfect material to rub these old toes on."

Seth paled. He knew that voice. His sense of impending danger skyrocketed, and he immediately pushed himself up from the floor. In less than a second, he was standing and staring warily at the people who'd just entered.

Chadley's twin, Jake, was dead-bolting the door. His bulk was greater than that of his twin's, but not very noticeable unless the two of them stood together.

Tripp was there, too. He was the owner of The Grubbery, a small diner in the nicer (and probably safer) part of town, as well as being Seth's boss. He also was generally a very laid-back person, whose excellent Asian genes made him look twenty years younger than actually was.

But the most dangerous of them all was the old lady in front. Six feet tall, she was all bone and sinew. Her hair was like steel wool that clung to head, framing her face like a halo of wire. In her prime, she had been handsome more than pretty, and even now, that still held true.

Now she grinned like a shark, her eyes bright as she regarded Seth. "Good morning, kiddo."

"Hi," he said warily. "Please keep your gross toes away from me."

Her grin only widened. "Then you better hurry and wash your hands. Jake brought us lunch."

True to her words, Jake had produced a cardboard box from somewhere, and he carried it over to the small table by the wall. A delicious aroma wafted into the room, making Seth's stomach perk up with interest.

Jake was one of the best cooks around. He had a way of making even the simplest of foods extraordinary, which was why The Grubbery did as well as it did. Whatever he had brought suddenly seemed far more appealing than the boring yogurt in Seth's apartment.

Seth immediately rushed to the washroom, snagging his backpack along the way. All right, fine. He'd have an existential crisis later, after he had lunch.