Chapter-18 Observation

Late night.

With the hearty dinner stuffing him and as Orange burped, Ewan went up and lounged on the balcony. Under the stars, the gentle and faint violet-silver moonlight blanketed him on the recliner. A glass of steaming hot sweetened milk sat on the stool beside him; he blew it from time to time while his eyes remained stuck on the window of the house beyond the fences to the left.

The lights were still on in there. A young girl helped her mother in the kitchen, her faded blonde ponytailed hair swaying with her steps. Oil-splatters dotted her sky-blue apron, and some even reached her argent glossy night pajamas—she worked the stove and her mother cut the veggies. 

Her father must've come home late again, Ewan guessed. 

Verina, his childhood friend; she had grown a lot. He used to play with her back in the days, even their fathers were close enough to have drinks on occasion. She was the same age as him, and the lack of any other playmate in the neighborhood had her tail him and Nana, eventually the party of two becoming a band of three.

Once his father died though, the two houses never interacted again. The relation of the past died in the past. Now, he only watched them from the balcony sometimes to reminisce, the trigger of nostalgia taking him back to the sunny days. She used to be one of his closest friends, now, she only reminded him of the happy times he spent here. 

"She must have a boyfriend by now. Heh, the snotty little brat grew so much." 

Soon his laughter froze when realized how much he sounded like the old men who often played cards on the second corner of their street, by the local eatery, munching on whatever they found—their plates were never empty.

My lost innocence…

He sighed and lamented, shaking his head at his loss, then looked towards the house to his right. Nana sprawled there on her balcony, still wearing her wrinkled school uniform with a wet brownish patch on her white shirt—she must've spilled some liquor. Her eyes drooped and she looked wasted even from afar, yet she still chugged down half a quarter neat, tossed it aside, and fumbled to take out another from the bag beside her. Several empty bottles already surrounded her, some covered in dust, but most were fresh. 

Havanna Elsworth, Nana for him and their families, and his fiancé from the old promise. The two families were close, close enough to engage the two when they were mere babies. But time did its wonders again—it killed that relationship. Ewan broke when his Pa died and wouldn't have survived the harshest time if not for Aunt Ella, Uncle Keith, and Nana. He never said it and never showed it, but they became his crutch, which worsened his condition when they suddenly vanished. 

Just as he got back on his feet though, however wobbly he was, two years after his Pa's death, they moved back in. Yet they shunned him and gave him the cold shoulder when he reached out. Only Nana sometimes came to him but that waned too when Aunt Ella reprimanded her for it. The drastic change settled his bubbling sentiments, and he pulled away in dismay, keeping his dejection buried in his heart. They must have their reasons for it, he reckoned, while still battling with the thought that this was the truth, and the past was all a lie. 

They didn't give him time to adjust, however, and the news of their horrifying death hammered him down. 

That day, he set foot in the dreaded funeral hall again, shivering, and watched from afar how the always bright and cheerful Nana crumbled into lifeless shards. Ewan didn't reach out to help though, he couldn't reach out to help. The reality had broken him, and he'd yet to recover, how could he gather her pieces…

Ewan heaved a deep sigh as the olden memories gushed back in, still fresh with pain without the soothing dust of time. They both suffered their own tragedies and they both were left alone. But the similar situation didn't bring them closer. Instead, the lack of initiative from both sides drifted them apart, and they lived their own lives. The only difference was that Nana remained broken in brittle shards while Ewan was already sharpening his jagged edge. 

If she saw him making progress, would she also strive to live better? Could his change make her smile again… Ewan recalled her sobs when he burned himself, and it pained him to be the trigger of her tears. After all, even if they didn't acknowledge the engagement anymore, they still used to be a family—they only had each other now.

Alas, the possibilities depended on her….

…

…

…

Once he had enough of his habitual 'observation', which also included the new couple who moved into the house across the street recently, stacks of boxes piled in their yard, he took out the final unknown item from his claw-ring—the silver metal dishware. 

It looked like normal tableware. The only difference was the brushed metal design and the small circular groove in the middle. Before using <Identify > on it, Ewan probed it with his 'spirit'. Because of how alien it was to him, his Pa must've left another memory imprint on it. After all, only using <Identify > couldn't explain all its applications. 

And indeed, once his spirit touched it through his hand, the information from the memory imprint poured into his mind. He took his time, and once he sorted it all out and rechecked for confirmation, his eyes lit up with glee. The problem that haunted him for so long, he carried its solution with him for days. He always imagined the Ashevas meeting in a dark place at night, all cloaked up and their voices muffled. The secrecy his teachers maintained, and a lack of information dissemination assured him of his thoughts. Yet, none of his guesses and imaginations even came close to reality. 

Airadian Hub Stratum—a moving hidden layer in Airadia's atmosphere that Ashevas used as a hub. This was their cornerstone. 

They discovered this layer; they didn't create it. As it was a part of the plane, it also contained Airadia's sentience. Because of that, it allowed free movement and entry only to the natives of Airadia. Combined with it was its natural stealth and constant movement feature; it was the perfect choice for a hub. So, after getting the permission from Airadia's sentience, they modified a part of it and transformed it into what it was today—Airadian Hub Stratum. 

It was a free hub with no restrictions. No one controlled it, no one managed it. Starons could rent safe zones from Airadia, but they were responsible for their own safety in other areas. 

This was the core of the information in the memory imprint. Once he reached the end, he held the plate with trembling hands, staring at it with famished eyes. His heart hammered his chest, his face flushed. Yet, he was gentle with his touch, he couldn't afford to damage the plate. If it broke, it would kill him, for the plate was the Hub-Connector, it was his means to connect to the hub stratum. 

Ashevas seldom visited the layer themselves, they all used the hub-connector. It reduced the risk as they would receive no damage even if someone attacked the blob of spirit they used to connect—Ewan planned to do the same.