Dawn came early on the river. Elias woke to the sounds of the River Rat community stirring around him—voices calling, metal clanging, footsteps on wooden planks. Jin's family was already gone, their sleeping areas neatly arranged.
He rose and stretched, noting the changes in his body. The wounds from his fight with Kallen had healed completely. His muscles felt denser, more responsive. Even his posture had shifted—more balanced, more efficient.
Physical Adaptation: 32% CompleteNext Trial: 3 hours, 42 minutes
The silent knowledge appeared in his mind, a constant reminder of his transformation. Three hours until his body would once again be tested and reshaped.
Outside, Jin waited, a salvage hook in one hand and a length of rope coiled over his shoulder.
"You're with my crew today," the boy said. "Hope you can swim."
Elias nodded. Swimming was a survival skill in the lower districts of Whitebrand, where flooding was common during the rainy season. "I can manage."
Jin led him to a gathering of about eight people near the water's edge. They ranged in age from teenagers to older adults, all bearing the lean, weather-beaten look of those who spent their lives working the river. A woman in her forties with a scarred face and missing left ear appeared to be in charge.
"This is Elias," Jin announced. "Mama Reeves assigned him to our crew."
The scarred woman looked Elias up and down. "I'm Liss. We dive for salvage along the northern trade routes. Ships drop cargo all the time—some accidentally, some for insurance claims, some to avoid inspection. We recover what we can, fix what's broken, sell what's valuable." Her eyes narrowed. "Can you hold your breath for two minutes?"
"Yes," Elias replied, confident in his enhanced physiology.
"Good. Can you tell silver from iron underwater?"
"Usually."
"Can you keep your mouth shut about what we find?"
"Always."
Liss grunted, apparently satisfied. "Take the new blood downstream," she told Jin. "Start with the shallows near Merchant's Bend. Easy pickings there for beginners."
Jin handed Elias a crude diving mask fashioned from salvaged glass and leather. "The water's murky. You'll need this to see anything."
They climbed into a small skiff, joined by two other salvagers—a wiry teenage girl named Taresh and an older man introduced only as Hooks. As they poled away from the settlement, Elias noted the practiced efficiency of their movements. These people knew the river intimately.
"So," Taresh said, eyeing Elias with undisguised curiosity, "you're the one who broke Kallen Reed's jaw?"
"Word travels fast," Elias remarked.
Hooks chuckled. "River carries more than water, boy. Carries stories too." The old man's arms were covered in faded tattoos—cultivation arrays, Elias realized, though they appeared non-functional. "Been wondering what kind of man takes on a Brass Tiger and walks away."
"A lucky one," Elias replied carefully.
"Hmm." Hooks' eyes narrowed. "No such thing as luck in Whitebrand. Only preparation and consequence."
They navigated through the morning river traffic—massive trade barges, sleek courier vessels, the occasional patrol boat sporting House Veritan colors. Each vessel represented a different facet of Whitebrand's complex economy. The barges carried raw materials from the outer territories—timber, ore, spirit stones harvested from mountain quarries. The courier vessels transported messages, contracts, and small, valuable goods between the Noble Houses. The patrol boats enforced House Veritan's trade monopoly, ensuring that all commerce yielded its proper tax.
The river itself was a murky brown-green, thick with industrial runoff from the factories upstream. Despite this, Elias could see fish darting beneath the surface—mutated by generations of exposure to cultivation waste, but surprisingly abundant.
"The Ashwater wasn't always like this," Hooks said, noticing Elias's gaze. "Old stories say it ran clear as crystal before the Cultivation Era. Now it's half poison, half life—like everything else in Whitebrand."
Eventually, they reached a bend in the river where the current slowed and the water grew calmer.
"Here," Jin announced, securing the skiff to a half-submerged post. "Merchant's Bend. Ships have to slow down to navigate the turn. Anything loose gets jostled free."
Elias peered into the murky depths. With his increasingly sensitive vision, he could make out shapes on the riverbed—crates, metal fragments, the occasional glint of something valuable.
"I'll go first," Jin said, stripping down to shorts. "Watch and learn."
The boy took a deep breath and dove gracefully. Beneath the surface, his movements were quick and practiced. He examined several objects before selecting a small metal container, which he brought to the surface.
"Spice box," he explained, handing it to Taresh. "Sealed tight. Still good."
For the next hour, they took turns diving. Elias discovered his enhanced body made him an exceptional salvager. He could hold his breath nearly four minutes, dive deeper than the others, and see with greater clarity in the dim underwater light. His strength allowed him to lift objects the River Rats would normally need multiple divers to recover.
"You're a natural," Taresh commented as Elias surfaced with his fifth find—a waterlogged leather case containing navigator's tools. "Sure you weren't a River Rat in another life?"
"Just strong," Elias deflected.
They worked their way along the bend, accumulating a respectable haul of salvage. Elias was submerged, examining what appeared to be a small chest half-buried in silt, when a sensation like cool water flowing over his brain signaled the beginning of a change. His underwater vision suddenly sharpened, colors becoming more vivid and distinct. Details that had been obscured by the murky water now stood out with startling clarity.
The chest before him revealed intricate details—tarnished bronze fittings, a lock mechanism corroded by water but still intact, and most interestingly, a faint memory-trace emanating from within. Not physical light, but an echo of significance. Someone had placed immense importance on this chest or its contents.
He surfaced for air, then dove again, making directly for the chest. It was wedged firmly in the riverbed, but his enhanced strength allowed him to work it free. As he touched it, fragments of impression flashed through his mind:
A robed figure hurrying along the docks at night. Guards approaching. The chest—heavy with secrets—dropped deliberately into the water. A whispered sentiment: "It will be safer beneath the waves than in their hands."
Elias brought the chest to the surface, hauling it into the skiff with a grunt of effort.
"By the Forgotten Gods," Hooks whispered, eyes wide. "That's no ordinary salvage."
The chest was small but ornate, despite its tarnished condition. Emblazoned on its lid was a symbol Elias recognized immediately—the same sigil he had seen in the memory crystal's vision, the mark of the Memory Walkers.
"What is it?" Jin asked, peering at the chest.
"Trouble," Hooks answered before Elias could speak. The old man touched the sigil reverently. "This is old magic. Pre-Cultivation Era. We should take this directly to Mama Reeves."
A new awareness bloomed in Elias's mind, unfolding like a flower opening to sunlight:
Secondary Objective Detected"Secrets Beneath the Surface"Recover and open the Memory Walker chestReward: Bloodline Lore Fragment
Elias felt a surge of excitement—this chest connected directly to his awakening bloodline. "Agreed," he said. "This looks valuable."
As they prepared to return, Elias noticed something shifting within his eyes—not pain, but a transformation. Colors became more vivid, details sharper. In the distance, he could read the name painted on a barge that would have been an indistinct blur before.
Looking down at the chest, he now perceived what the others could not—faint lines of power etched into its surface, a locking mechanism that responded not to keys but to memory itself.
He would need privacy to unlock it. And more importantly, he would need to ensure the contents reached his hands alone. Whatever secrets the chest contained were meant for a Memory Walker—for him.
The River Rats had been kind, but their loyalty was to their community. To Mama Reeves. And Mama Reeves, he now knew, was already in contact with the Hidden Hand.
As they poled back toward the settlement, Elias formulated a plan. He would need to examine the chest before it reached Mama Reeves. His awakening bloodline might be the only key that could unlock it without destruction.
But first, he needed to survive the remainder of his transformation—the burning in his eyes intensifying with each passing minute as his visual cortex rewired itself to process his enhanced perceptions.
Sensory Adaptation: Progressing.Warning: Temporary Discomfort Approaching Threshold
The water's surface suddenly became painfully bright, every ripple a dagger of light stabbing into his brain. Elias closed his eyes, but it made little difference—his enhanced vision now processed light even through his eyelids.
"You alright?" Jin asked, noticing his discomfort.
"Just... the sun," Elias managed, fighting to maintain his composure.
As the skiff approached the docks, Elias steeled himself for what lay ahead—both the completion of his painful transformation and the challenge of securing the secrets that might reveal his true heritage.
For now, he would endure. Pain had become his companion. His teacher. His path to power.
But knowledge—that would be his true weapon in the trials to come.