Strange.
"Snow," Myrkas asked as he shook one of her ears lightly, to grab her attention." Do you understand what it says?"
The small bunny looked up at the human before nodding her head with a positive answer. She then immediately proceeded to refocus on the symbols floating in front of her. They shifted again a few times before she was satisfied. It did not take her much time to complete her assessment.
Maybe it's meant to only be understandable to the "Assessed," Myrkas thought.
No matter. While a little disappointed that he could not easily discover what level Snow stood at, Myrkas was happy she could also benefit from his uncle's artifact.
This way, at least, the boy had no reason to be jealous of his friend's progress. He could tell himself they were keeping shoulder to shoulder in their race to power, with no way to know any better. Not a horrible outcome overall, even if a friend to compare to would have been nice, as furry as she was.
Yue and Rivak were not candidates for comparison. At least not yet. For once, they were not personal disciples of Master Ranil. In addition, they were trainees from last winter, almost half a year in advance compared to Myrkas.
The boy dared not ask them where they were at, cultivation speaking. He did not think they were close enough at the moment. And he would be way too disappointed if they stood so much farther ahead from him. He did not want to feel any more like the lame duck left behind, forever fated to painstakingly carry his meagre weight through others' tracks. Watching their backs but never standing by their side.
He knew it wasn't a fair way to think. He was younger and understandably smaller. It only made sense that he was not able to do all that the older teens could. It was the logical outcome. But it still stung. It still made Myrkas feel inferior. He wanted to catch up, and sooner than later.
Before he fell any deeper into doubts and pessimism, Myrkas slapped his cheeks—gently as he did not fancy hurting himself. He should bring back the Assessor to his uncle before something terrible happened to it. Like a goat attack. Slobber was a nasty thing to clean, he knew.
Anyway, Lilac had remained completely uninterested. Myrkas did not believe his goats had made enough progress to warrant an assessment. If they had made any. It was hard to tell. Especially with Helaine, his cream and brown coated goat. She acted just like a regular goat—or so the boy thought. It wasn't like he was a goat expert.
His transmigration memories did not contain much goat knowledge. Only some notion that their milk could be used in soap. And that some made very fine wool, but not much else. Not that it was particularly relevant to Myrkas' immediate concerns...
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At once, the boy left his secluded spot with Snow in tow. Direction: his uncle's laboratory!
"Ah, Kassa, you brought it back already? Good. Good. Come here a bit, I want to see how you are progressing."
Assessor in hand and Snow at his heel, Myrkas sat on the sage green sofa. They were in the sitting area at the bottom of the workshop's library tower. The boy wondered silently how his uncle would be able to see his progress if keeping the Assessed's secrets was built into the device, as his very recent experience with Snow suggested.
He had no time to ask, though, as his uncle did not lose any before settling his considerable weight next to him. The slightly worn furniture creaked under the middle-aged man's large frame. The sofa was barely big enough for the two of them, making their elbows almost touch. Myrkas squirmed a bit in place, mildly uncomfortable at their physical proximity.
The boy still did not know what to make of his uncle, finding the man a little intimidating. It was much easier to interact when they were both focused on alchemy. A perfectly neutral ground, void of any emotional landmines like a half-forgotten father or Koriss' vague relationship with Nirrina. Much safer to focus on plants and other reagents, how they were used, how to process them, and where they came from.
"Go on Kassa, put it on. I'll be able to see the words from here too. It should work. I had a... friend try it a long time ago. It works as long as you share a language."
I guess that makes sense, thought the boy. I don't speak rabbit. Or is it a universal herbivore language? Beast language? Should I teach Snow how to read Modern Imperial?
"Are you waiting for something, boy? " said Koriss gruffly as Myrkas was once again frozen in thoughts. "We don't have all day. There is a lot of Piercing Jade Grass waiting for you this afternoon."
Myrkas gritted his teeth at his nemesis' hated name. That damn weed again. Its processing was not any more pleasant even after all these nonats. It wasn't the nicks and scratches that bothered him anymore. No. It was the fact that there was so much to process he did not get any time to do any "real" alchemy. The boy was stuck at ingredient prepping, his uncle highly reticent to let him near anything else until he was "more advanced."
Koriss Hakhmir did not understand his nephew's drive for advancement. The man was not aware of the vague threat inherent to being a transmigrator in a cultivation world. Anything could happen at any time. What if that stupid Imperial prince crossed his path, bringing with him all his problems? Myrkas had to prepare. He had to grow strong. It wasn't only because he wanted to punch with fire and succeed at super duper, great-tasting elixirs before his majority. The true mark of a genius cultivator alchemist. Of course not. Myrkas thought about his future safety and freedom first and foremost, not about how cool, and rich, he could get.
As he reflected, Myrkas removed his robe and undershirt, letting the artifact rest on his skin. With a quick circulation of his Qi and a press to the sides of the circular object, the by-now familiar golden-orange glow appeared. The words formed, unchanged from less than an hour ago.
The passed time had let Myrkas' enthusiasm deflate. He did not feel so good about his progress anymore. Months had passed since he took his first step on the path to Cultivator Greatness. Being still in the very first stage of body cultivation suddenly felt like a failure. He was a little dispirited. His bubble had burst. All his hopes of his training montage reaching its apogee soon vanished like free ice cream on a hot summer day.
In hindsight, Myrkas should have expected those paltry results. His training was harsh, true, but it was not life-threatening per se. He was going to train for years to come. The boy laughed at himself internally. He was reminded of new gym members at the start of the new year, expecting life-changing results after a mere week of regular exercise.
Lost in his reflections, Myrkas completely missed the transient look of shock on his uncle's face. The man quickly regained his usual stoic expression and quietly stared at his nephew's literally glowing record. His amber eyes trailed from one line to the next, comparing, analyzing. The room stood silent: its two occupants similarly stuck in their heads.
Sunlight had travelled on the ground when a small intruder broke the reflective moment. Lilac, in all her silver glory, jumped on Myrkas' lap without any warning, as was her right. She dropped a simple hairbrush in the boy's hand, commanding a thorough brushing without delay. It appeared Myrkas' and her sister Snow's near-daily absence had been noticed. With an indulgent smile, her human pet proceeded to dutifully brush her soft fur. The spoiled bunny let a self-satisfied sigh out as she settled under his care.