*Click woosh*
Xavier felt a chilly breeze hit his face as he pulled open the hospital door. Walking out of Exit C. Relief, and satisfaction also hit him too. Xavier disliked hospitals not in the traditional smell of death and bleach way, that sucked, but simply because he had spent too much of his life there. But now for all he cared, he was free.
'For the foreseeable future that is.'
"hngh."
Xavier did a little stretch, he brought his arms far above his head and took a deep breath, fresh non bleached air filled his lungs. A light smile filled his face.
However the environment wasn't as joyous as him, stretchers and wheelchairs were urgently pushed through by nurses scrambling to get their patients to the right place. Faces of guilt and anguish from family members that just got bad news, rushing in the white building like a race car, and pacing around, phone in hand: disappointment, joy, and even malice.
Even beyond all of that, from all the clutter and all the chaos on the wailing blue and red light-up trucks that spit out IVs and half animated corpses, plastered on their two sides was the identical images of a old man dressed in a casual polo shirt, wearing black sweatpants, his white product greased hair neatly combed up, he was also quite handsome, his well defined jaw and confident and welcoming smile that lacked wrinkles showed grace and relatability.
As to accentuate this fact, the old man's right hand was holding on to a plastic white container, handing it over to a young man while holding a staff in his left. The other person was common, young, innocent, and kind of round he wore a tattered shirt and was smiling like he met his messiah.
One was the old king and one was not.
'Let's play guess who.'
There were a lot of guess who's to go around, every ambulance vehicle had the same likeness, there was no variety.
'Guess they're that desperate for support.'
This was new, Xavier didn't need to be a politician to understand what was going on.
The Provinces faction has been garnering support amongst the masses, giving the newly appointed king, and his faction little scraps to feed on.
'So now they're putting their faces on ambulance trucks, how delightful'
Distaste welled up on the tips of Xavier's tongue and he turned walking past the propaganda trucks and crossed the street to a tall cement structure: Parking Lot C. He walked into the dark empty lot and through a set of doors and made his way up the floors through a set of stairs.
As he pushed open the door, it seems he was too clumsy and a finger lagged behind his body, the door closer pushed inward towards the hinge and jammed his pointer finger between the frame and the door.
"Ouch"
he said audibly, his face slightly discomforted.
There was a slight tingle on his pointer finger, he brought his hand up to look and sure enough, his wound was reopened, the blood dripped on the floor, too much for the bandage to hold.
"Damned hemophilia."
He said loud enough for someone nearby to hear. Strangely there was no one.
'Hospitals normally are packed right?'
He took his remaining hand to fish his jacket pockets, other than trash, there was nothing.
'Strange, I always make sure to stock up bandages.'
'Better finish this quick.'
he brushed it off, although a slight tinge of unease slipped through.
*Step*
The wet pavement of the floor squelched and echoed with every step, and every once in a while he would see a rat cage or cigars and plastic bags. Camera's were littered here and there at every landing.
*Step*
Xavier walked past another flight of stairs and stopped this time, he could vaguely hear resounding echoes that came a few seconds after his.
'Is it someone who is just passing by?'
he thought taking a cautious glance behind his back. He felt his back tingle.
*Step*
He walked another flight of stairs probing for any sight sounds, or indication of a pursuer.
Suddenly Xavier stopped, his eye glowed a deep blood red then fading back into a light red again.
'I knew it.'
Someone was following him.
He was perfectly prepared.
Xavier may be frail, but he wasn't complacent.
He had ways to defend himself. After all he is a noble.
Trouble was bound his way someday.
Sure if he threw a punch he'd probably suffer from internal bleeding or if he'd tried to pick up a sword he'll break his arms. Hell he could barely run without tearing something in his leg,
And if he tried to cast magic the most that would come out is a condensed blue strand, which could stretch very far, but wasn't viable in anyway in fighting, more floppy than anything.
But he as a researcher Xavier, knew there were more ways to protecting oneself other than brawn, might, weapons, or magic.
With research he himself was enough protection.
He was a sea of blood, blood packed dense with mana from his special body composition.
It was perfect because the cut on his finger hasn't healed.
Leaving a trail of blood.
He took a deep breath and his eyes tinged a blood red again. As a barely visible blue strand appeared at Xavier's fingertips.
"Blood sense."
Xavier chanted and closed his eyes. Using a spell is like a series of experiments, you have a theory or purpose you want to prove, then through repeated test and fine tuning you get the result you want.
Chanting is not a needed part of a spell, it is equivalent, using a formula to find the answer to an equation.
As opposed to chant less, which is the opposite: doing complicated mental math. Which, unless you were a battle mage or were very well versed in that particular spell. It would be quite inefficient.
Xavier didn't like inefficiency.
The blue string moved like a heart rate monitor on a dirty screen, it zig-zagged between cigarettes and cup-ramen switching directions right as it was about to collide with them.
Xavier wasn't steering or controlling this mana, he only gave it a command: To quite literally "sense for blood", or more accurately to sense the familiar mana in the blood.
So it looked for every strand of blood Xavier bled and like a weaving needle stabbed through them chaining them together. It didn't stop until there was no more blood to link
"Disperse"
The blue strand mixed with the blood as Xavier chanted another spell, the blue strand creating a chemical reaction that made the red liquid on the floor fade,
Leaving only a slight red glow and the faint smell of blood. Mana flew up in the air, coalescing and forming clumps around solid objects, Xavier's felt a something akin to muscle fatigue or someone sucking the life out of him.
Immediately his vision overloaded, flashes of mana clumps making out stairs, railings, walls, and rats.
And a man...
He focused on that set of mana
The man looked to be quite young, maybe in his 17s
Xavier couldn't make out details about color with his blood sense but he had a very defined face, he was British and looked like someone who would make it into an idol group without audi…
Xavier stopped momentarily and his mouth hung wide.
"Dim??"
sufficed to say he was very perturbed.