Rise CHAPTER 5 - Get to Work

Soon after his initial success, Jiran changed focus to his heart and other organs. Luckily, the tiering had progressed enough not to leave him with ruptured and cracked innards, bringing him immense relief.

After a quick prayer, thanking the Fathers he was even alive, he shifted to working on his arteries.

So long as there is no internal bleeding, I should stabilize long enough to finish healing.

Jiran lost himself in the process of dominating the density as it entered his body then directing it to where it was most needed.

I wish I knew why it was all trying to enter that stupid speck.

He began to grow tired and closed his eyes for the first time since his initial success. Surprise nearly made him gasp before he caught himself, not wanting to experience that pain again.

My stats! I saw them flicker, for just a second. It must be the mana.

With a burning desire for knowledge, Jiran took another slow breath and sloppily directed the tiniest flicker of mana into his eyelids.

CONGRATULATIONS - Tiering successful!

CONGRATULATIONS - Mana unlocked.

CONGRATULATIONS - Concentration unlocked.

Strength + .1

Agility + .1

Endurance + .1

Durability + .1

Wisdom + .1

Intelligence + .1

CONGRATULATIONS - Molding skill unlocked.

Further upgrades delayed due to lack of density.

https://imgur.com/zeuQj4B

Okay… that was a bad idea. Do I even want to unpack all of that right now?

Yes, yes I do.

I gained some weight, which makes sense, the more density, the more weight.

Stop procrastinating, Jiran. Face the facts, fix the facts.

I knew I was in bad shape, but brain damage? I suppose that explains why trying to dig up memories of Brandon caused so much pain. I definitely won't be doing that again until I get rid of that status effect.

Tier 1, the first good news. That number is so refreshing. How long have I dreamed of this day only for it to turn into my worst nightmare?

Just 0.0001 mana. So that's all a measly breath of air counts as? Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine more to go. How quaint.

Minor stat bumps across the board. That means my stats aren’t capped anymore. More good news.

I got my first skill! Which I don’t have enough mana to use. Fantastic.

-ERROR-

Really? How do I even begin to process that? Is this world some kind of game? Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like a game. It feels like someone cut me a million times with a razor blade then stuck me in a bathtub full of tabasco sauce!

It’s kind of awesome to have such weird memories. That Brandon guy seems a bit weird though. I better make sure not to let his weirdness rub off on me too much. Maybe it’s too late, I do have brain damage after all.

Which is all the motivation I need to get back to work.

Eyes closed, immersed as he was, Jiran didn't notice when his mother returned. The smells of dinner cooking roused him from his intense concentration. He cautiously opened his eyes and tracked her as she prepared for the evening.

With a fresh perspective, Jiran observed his mother. She was beautiful, black hair framed a face that was almost too perfect in proportions. Green piercing eyes shifted constantly, roving their home, but never alighting on Jiran.

Her strong limbs used precise and practiced movements as she weaved a fishing net on the floor after cooking.

He thought about trying to speak to her but decided against the action. If he coughed in the attempt, it would force his entire body to spasm. Possibly damaging him and undoing some of his painstaking work.

Once more he closed his eyes and resumed his task.

At some point, he heard his father come home, and a light conversation ensued. Tired as he was, fading in and out of sleep, he did not follow their words. It wasn't until the fire began to die and soft snoring filled the air that Jiran realized something was seriously wrong.

Why didn't they interact with me? I didn’t even notice them checking on me once. Did I sleep through it? My throat is so dry, I wish they had at least given me some water.

To make matters worse, after his father came home, the slow trickle of density he was able to absorb from the air was cut by more than half.

Did he use more at work than usual and is now leaching from the environment to replenish his reserves, leaving less for me?

My mana is completely bottomed out. Shouldn’t I also be able to absorb more than usual? Is the amount I’m getting already increased? Or is it because he’s a higher tier than me so he gets priority?

I never paid attention before, grr, so many questions. At this rate, I could spend all night and barely see any progress. I should just try to get some sleep.

My brain is completely fried anyways and my emotions feel like a squeezed-dry bag of milk.

Jiran let the sleep of the injured claim him. He fell deeply into dreams of laughing with his parents, running among buildings that reached for the sky, made of more metal than can possibly exist. A sky with only a single moon and sun.

He was surrounded by people important to him, but without faces. They spoke in a language he couldn’t understand, their voices warm and inviting. Fun times, good times, and easy times.

https://imgur.com/H5Jf309 

Waking up was a less enjoyable experience.

He stifled a groan before it could lead to excess movement. It took him several deep breaths to regain control over his pain.

New and more immediate needs made the process significantly harder than yesterday.

Thirst first among them, his throat had gone raw through the night and was now screaming at him for water.

Opening his eyes he was shocked to find his mother kneeling over him. She gazed down at him with emotionless sunken eyes. A ceremonial knife was clutched in her hands, held to her chest. Her lips moved in silent prayer.

Jiran’s brain froze, his thoughts paused in shock. His breathing stilled to nothing.

“Momma?” That one raspy, barely audible word broke the silence of the moment.

Her eyes snapped back to the wall no longer looking down at him. She began shaking her head from side to side in choppy sharp movements.

“No no no NO!”

Each of her words was louder than the last until she was screaming at the top of her lungs. The knife in her hands was raised above her head.

Just as she was plunging the blade down toward Jiran’s chest, a hand from behind swallowed her tiny wrists.

“This is not what we agreed upon, Amilla. You will let the child pass naturally, even if it pains you to be in its presence.”

His mother struggled in vain to wrench her arms free from the unyielding grip. Tears streamed from her eyes and in her struggles, she nicked her own cheek with the blade. The fresh cut caused a single bead of red to join the rivers of moisture traveling down her face.

Luckily for Jiran, she soon gave up and fell limply to the floor. Sobs wracked her body as she lay on the floor. Jiran, unable to see his mother, stared at his father, who in turn had eyes trained on the wall, refusing to return his gaze.

What in the hell is happening right now? Did she seriously just try to kill me? Why?

Shocked disbelief coursed through Jiran. Only his thoughts raced, repeating his words endlessly.

Why?

His father soon scooped up Amilla after it became clear she was unwilling to move. After he threw a small bag over his shoulder, he practically dragged her out of the hut. The last detail Jiran saw of his parents was the knife still clutched in his mother's hand.

Jiran was in a deep state of shock. By the time he came out of his ruminations, First Mother’s light was peeking under the curtain they used for a door. His racing heart had slowed some time ago, replaced with feelings of emptiness, shame, and fury.

They gave up on me. Wrote me off as already dead. Just because I wasn’t quick enough to recover, she was just going to finish me off, to what? Spare me the suffering of another day?

I’m not fucking denless! I’m not a child who succumbed to the storms. I have mana, if they had even bothered to ask, they would know.

What absolute idiots. Do they think I would just give up and die off like some bug? This place clearly isn’t safe for me. If she decides to come back while dad is at work, I’ll be completely defenseless.

Jiran wasted no more time, closing his eyes and using his rampaging emotions, he grabbed lungful after lungful of density, converted it into mana, and forced it into his joints.

The process was slow, far too slow for his comfort.

Second Father rose and peaked before he was halfway through with his knees.

Sweat poured from him as his fever advanced.

The thirst he had experienced that morning was a fond memory, as what he knew now was true thirst.

The first thoughts of giving up were easily crushed. However, as time dragged on and he was no closer to regaining his autonomy, the fear became harder and harder to banish.

He used it, pulled on the emotions, and sent them racing through him to devour the little density he could inhale.

Suddenly, gooseflesh swept across Jiran’s body in a wave.

He didn’t know how, but as sure as a storm makes waves, Jiran knew his time to act was coming to an end. Without wasting time completing another breath, Jiran opened his eyes and searched for a solution.

There has to be something here I can get more Density from.

Anything left from breakfast? No.

Last night's dinner? Nope, don’t see that either.

What happened to the Tier four meat? I don’t see it anywhere, with how hungry I am, I would have smelled it if there was any left.

Jiran searched frantically with his eyes, gritting his teeth in pain when he moved his head to see more of the room.

Blood and pus leaked from his neck and shoulders at the movement, but he persevered. That’s when Jiran saw it, his satchel.

The half-eaten bun from Elder Mireg!

He reached out with his arms to turn himself over, but only his left arm responded. The right hung uselessly and his attempt at moving it was so painful, he couldn’t hold back the scream of agony that escaped his lips.

Yet he pushed on, never stopping his advance. His escalating dread pushed him forward. He knew every moment mattered.

Like a ravenous beast, Jiran crawled. His fingernails were stripped off on the prayer mat as he pulled.

He pulled harder.

Blood oozed freely from skin caught and torn by the floor.

He grit his teeth and persevered.

Tears and snot ran down his face. Blood clogged his right eye so he shut it and pressed on. He kicked his legs feebly, dug his bleeding chin into the floor for purchase, and squirmed his body for all it was worth.

The beast in him did not relent. Upon reaching the satchel he tore into it with a frenzy.

As if the bun had been searching for his hand it fell into his grip. Bloody, dirty, and dry. The tier three grains entered his mouth and it was the sweetest meal he had ever tasted.

With practiced ease, Jiran assaulted the morsel’s density with his will. He dominated the energy within his stomach instantly.

A tidal wave of mana unlike anything he had ever experienced erupted through him.

Prioritizing on the fly, he sloppily closed the wounds on his skin. Pushing out dirt and bacteria before sealing the aching cracks.

Then came his joints; bones and cartilage became whole, reinforced to the tier one standard.

As if his cells had been eagerly waiting to complete the Tiering, they greedily absorbed his mana. Once directed to a specific area the process was practically automatic.

Jiran lamented his previous lack of knowledge.

If only I had known how to forcefully convert and control density before the tiering.

Two bites later, Jiran once more found himself without mana. Like a baby phoenix, he emerged from the gore left on the floor.

He stood strong, his back suffused with the pride of victory. He rolled his right shoulder to test for the pain that had so nearly debilitated him just moments before. Feeling no pain, he clenched his fists in victory.

Any further celebration was cut short by the sounds of dozens of approaching feet.

Fearing the worst, Jiran quickly scooped up the few belongings he owned into his satchel; A knife, two changes of clothes, a short bow, a hip quiver, and a leather canteen.

He donned his father's hooded cloak to mask the scar-mangled skin his tunic didn't cover, then hastened outside.