Chapter 354: Suncrest

The private stall was quiet except for Glitch’s breathing.

Jin shut the door and pulled the blind. Flicker’s monitoring pads lay within reach; Glitch rested against the back wall, leaving the floor and high rafters clear. From her padded perch, Flicker leaned forward whenever Jin moved his hand toward the tray.

Her afternoon checks had been normal. Jin reviewed the profile—Iron, Rank 1, 2-Star—and opened the manifestation panel.

[Physical manifestation: Dual Fire-Wind Core]

[Cost: 15,000 Coins]

He pressed confirm.

[Paid. Manifesting…]

A walnut-sized sphere appeared on the feed tray, ember red and cloudy gray curling around each other beneath its smooth surface.

Jin’s inventory updated beneath it.

[Dual Fire-Wind Core ×0]

[Cinderstorm Fragment ×13]

Warmth reached Jin’s hand as he set the tray beneath her perch. He opened the Sync panel before letting her approach.

Flicker tilted her head, hopped down, and touched the core with her beak. It unraveled into red and gray threads that sank into her feathers. She went still. Jin checked the waiting confirmation.

[Controlled Sync — Flicker]

[Combined transfer: stored development + Dual Fire-Wind Core]

[Transfer: large. Within estimated recipient capacity.]

Jin confirmed the transfer. Flicker stretched her wings to their full span.

Heat rolled off her, and the air began to spin around her in a slow, tight ring that lifted the loose straw off the floor. Jin felt it on his face, hot and dry.

Her breathing quickened. Jin reached toward the pads, then paused as her breaths settled into a deep, even rhythm. He kept his attention on her.

She began to grow. Her body lengthened and filled out, her chest deepening, her shoulders broadening to carry larger wings. Her flight feathers lengthened, the old ash-gray warming at the tips to a deep russet that caught the light like coals. Her beak darkened and sharpened.

Gold light spread between her eyes, forming a circle with short rays like a child’s drawing of the sun. A thin ring of fire flickered around it, moving softly without burning her feathers.

As the wind eased and the straw settled, Flicker folded her wings. Jin’s hand could no longer have covered her back, and the perch bar suddenly looked small.

[Flicker — Suncrest Sparrow]

[Quality: Silver (Middle)]

[Combat Rank: 1 — 5-Star]

[New skills: Gale Dash, Ember Shot]

[Partial First Bond Awakening: complete]

The bond changed before he’d finished reading.

A quick sensation ran through him, lighter than Glitch’s solid presence. His eyes followed a moth’s sudden turn past the lamp. When he stepped toward Flicker, he cleared a loose fold of cloth with unexpected ease. His feet seemed to settle exactly where he wanted them.

Oh, he thought. That’s her.

He crouched with the same strength he’d grown used to, but a new lightness in the movement. Flicker looked up, spread her wings, and flew.

Three powerful strokes carried her upward. She banked beneath the rafters, circled the room without a wobble, and glided down onto Jin’s outstretched forearm.

She was heavy now, her claws closing carefully round his arm. Her delight poured through the bond, fierce and enormously pleased with herself.

Jin opened his mouth and had to try again. He remembered staring at a temperature line in the middle of the night, terrified it would fall if he looked away. Later, even standing had tired her. Now she was gripping his arm and waiting for him to admire her.

“Look at you,” he managed finally. His voice cracked. “Look at you.”

Glitch rose and approached until his armored face was level with Jin’s arm. He blinked slowly at the fire around Flicker’s sun mark, then breathed out a warm gust that ruffled her new feathers.

Flicker hopped from Jin’s arm to the broad flat plate between Glitch’s eyes, turned round once, and settled there, glowing.

Glitch held perfectly still and went slightly cross-eyed trying to look at her.

Verrick came the next morning for his usual check and stopped dead in the doorway.

“What—” Verrick nearly choked on the word. He coughed and came forward, staring. “Jin. Is that Flicker?”

“Yes,” Jin said, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Verrick spent forty minutes weighing and measuring her. He looked at the sun mark for a long time and touched the feathers just outside its ring of flame with one careful finger. Flicker allowed this with great dignity.

“I’ve been looking after her since she could barely hold herself up,” Verrick said. “I’ve written down every gram she’s gained.” He shook his head. “You know what your luck is? It’s ridiculous. First the lizard. Now her. In my professional opinion, either one of them is the kind of mutation you’d see once in a million. And you’ve got two.”

“I’ve been told I’m lucky,” Jin replied.

“Lucky.” Verrick looked at Flicker, then back at Jin, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Or that appraisal of yours. Data Appraisal. Can it — does it let you spot this kind of thing? Hidden qualities in a beast? Before anyone else can see them?”

Jin took a moment to stroke Flicker’s neck, buying himself time. Then he laughed.

“How would a C-Rank talent do something like that?” Jin asked. “I’m just extremely lucky. My dad gave me Glitch, so maybe it runs in the family.” He shrugged. “And I spend more time than anyone sensible on their diets, and their growth, and their training. That probably helps.”

“Clearly,” Verrick said. “I know what she’s been eating here. What else have you worked out? Supplements? A particular training routine?”

“Verrick.” Jin said it lightly, still smiling, but he let the pause sit there. “Asking someone for their exact diet and training methods would be a bit rude, wouldn’t it?”

Verrick closed his mouth, then huffed a laugh and held up both hands.

“Fair enough,” Verrick said. “Keep your methods. I’ll still want to know if anything affects her care.”

“Of course,” Jin replied.

Verrick picked up his kit and stood. At the door, he paused and looked back, not at Flicker this time, but at Jin. “You know, some of the most useful people I’ve worked with had lower-rank talents. A C-Rank that’s very good at one narrow thing can be worth more than a B that’s average at everything.” He shrugged. “Just a thought.”

After Verrick left, Jin looked down at Flicker. She was preening, unconcerned about the questions she’d caused. He rubbed her warm neck feathers anyway.

That afternoon, he took Flicker out to the empty flight yard behind the stables, a long sandy enclosure with high netting, target posts, and perches at either end. He could feel her eagerness through the bond before he’d even chosen a target.

“Gale Dash,” Jin said. “Toward the far perch. Just a short burst.”

Flicker launched. Ten meters out, the air tightened around her and she shot forward. She passed the perch before she could turn, flared both wings, and caught the yielding net with a startled squawk. Jin was already running when she dropped into the sand.

He checked her wings and feet. She pushed his fingers away and hopped onto his wrist, offended but apparently unhurt. He waited for her to stretch and complete an ordinary flight before trying again.

“Too much speed at the end,” he told her. “Finish the burst sooner. Leave yourself room.”

On the next attempt, he called her out of the acceleration earlier. She braked hard, caught the perch, and swung underneath it before hauling herself upright. Jin moved the starting point back for a third try. This time she reached the perch with a flurry of correcting wingbeats and stayed on top.

“Better,” he said, grinning at her. “We’ll stop there.”

“Ember Shot,” Jin said, when she’d flown back and rested. He pointed at the nearest target post, about ten meters away. “That one.”

The ring of fire around her sun mark flared. She opened her beak, and a bright bolt of flame no bigger than a walnut streaked across the yard and missed the post by a full meter, leaving a smoking scorch in the sand.

Flicker inspected the scorch mark, then turned to Jin, looking deeply pleased.

“That’s not where I pointed,” Jin told her.

Her next shot came closer. The third clipped the post, leaving a dark, smoldering streak down the wood.

Flicker puffed up all her new feathers and sang, a short, bright, triumphant trill he’d never heard her make before.

Jin lowered his pointing hand. There was a scorch on the target, another well wide of it, and Flicker was singing as though she’d hit both deliberately.

She’s going to be amazing.

He held out his arm. She left the perch at an ordinary, careful speed this time and landed with her warm claws closing around his sleeve.

“Yes,” he told her, still smiling. “I saw.”