The escalator at Sé Station[1] looked like a mechanical mouth spitting people out onto the surface. I let myself be carried by the flow, clutching my backpack with my left hand—the one of flesh and bone. The right one, made of light and faith, was tucked deep into my coat pocket, vibrating softly. It's weird, you know? Feeling the tingling of a limb that doesn't exist anymore. They call it a "phantom limb," but my phantom glows and breaks down walls if I'm not careful.
I stepped out into Praça da Sé[2]. The late afternoon sun hit the buildings, but I saw something beyond the grey and the tar. Superimposed on this reality of newsstands and street preachers was the Spiritual Frontier. To anyone not Awakened, the air was just polluted. To me, the sky had the texture of cracked glass, and the shadows of the buildings looked like puddles of oil moving against the wind.
I needed to get to college. I had a Veterinary Anatomy exam, and honestly, differentiating equine muscles was harder than facing demons sometimes. But Aureus, the Benevolent, seemed to have other plans for my commute.
The smell hit me first. Not the smell of urine or fried food from the square, but an odor of burnt ozone and rotting meat. Entropy. Umbra's favorite perfume.
I stopped near a newsstand. My horse, Goiás, wasn't there physically, but I felt a tightness in my chest, that same prey instinct he used to transmit to me when danger was prowling.
"Lady, you buying the magazine?" the vendor asked, impatient.
I didn't answer. My eyes scanned the crowd. That was when I saw it.
In the middle of the sea of rushing people, a man in a suit was walking wrong. His shoulders were locked, his head hanging at an angle that would make a chiropractor cry. But the worst part wasn't him. It was what was riding on his back.
An Evil Spirit. It looked like a giant tick made of black smoke and grease, with dozens of spindly little legs dug into the man's nape. People instinctively swerved around him, feeling the chill he emanated, but no one saw it. The man stumbled, his face ashen, his vitality being sucked away with every clumsy step.
I knew what that meant. The spirit was feeding. If I did nothing, that man would have a massive "heart attack" before reaching the corner.
I took a deep breath. Aureus, give me patience, because if you give me strength, I'll hit him.
The Code of Conduct hammered in my head: Preservation. Protection. Do not initiate violence. I couldn't just draw my arm of light and decapitate the spirit in the middle of the square. Aureus's magic weakens if I attack out of hatred or impulse. I needed to defend.
The man in the suit staggered and fell, knocking over an old lady selling sweets from a cart. The spirit on his back hissed—a sound like a tire puncturing that only I could hear—and the smoke legs stretched out, ready to jump to the new victim: the elderly lady, more fragile, an easier meal.
It was time.
I ran. Not like a movie heroine, but like someone chasing a stray calf.
"Watch out!" I screamed, throwing myself between the fallen man and the lady.
The spirit noticed my presence. The "aura" of a Chosen is like a lighthouse beacon to these things. It screeched and, abandoning the man, leaped in my direction. Shadow claws, which looked like razor blades made of vacuum, aimed for my neck.
Aggression initiated by the enemy. Permission granted.
I pulled my right hand from my pocket.
The moment the jacket fabric moved away, the light exploded. There was no long transformation sequence. One second I was a limping student, the next, an arm of pure golden geometry materialized where my flesh was missing.
I raised my arm.
"Bulwark!" my voice came out with a metallic echo that wasn't mine.
The spirit collided against my forearm of light. There was a sound of muffled thunder. The monster's kinetic energy was absorbed by the solid structure of my Gift. It didn't cut me; it broke its claws on my defense.
The candy lady screamed, covering her face. to her, it must have looked like a giant camera flash had gone off.
The spirit recoiled, hissing in pain. Aureus's light burned its darkness.
I felt my Fervor rise. That warm sensation in my chest, the certainty of doing the right thing, of being in the right place. It wasn't XP, it wasn't a level. It was Purpose. I was protecting the innocent. I was maintaining Order.
The monster, realizing I was too tough a prey, tried to flee, oozing toward a nearby storm drain.
I took a step forward, the light in my arm pulsing, ready to fire a beam and end it. But I stopped. The spirit was fleeing. It wasn't threatening anyone anymore right now. If I shot it in the back, would it be defense or a hunt? Would it be justice or wrath?
The light in my arm flickered, threatening to fail. The warning was clear.
Easy, Dayanne. You are not an executioner.
I lowered my arm. The light retracted, returning to a passive form, though still solid and glowing. The spirit vanished into the darkness of the sewer.
"Sweet Mother of God..." the candy seller stared at me, eyes wide, fixed on my right arm glowing like a divine lantern. "What are you, child? An angel?"
I smiled, tired, and pulled my jacket sleeve back down, hiding the glow as best I could. The man in the suit was starting to regain his color, coughing on the ground.
"Just a veterinarian, ma'am," I extended my left hand to help her up. "Do you have a pé de moleque[3] there? I think my glucose dropped."
As she served me the peanut brittle, trembling, I looked at the invisible meter in my soul. The Fervor bar had gone up a tiny bit. The path to the Second Circle was long, but every life saved was a step up.
I bit into the sweet, tasting the peanuts and feeling the adrenaline fade.
"Welcome to São Paulo, Dayanne," I thought. "Here the cattle are different, but the rodeo is the same."
[1] Sé Station is one of the stations on the São Paulo Metro. It is the central and busiest station in the city. It is located in Praça da Sé, near the Sé Cathedral.
[2] Praça da Sé is the geographical heart of São Paulo, in the city center, famous for being the zero kilometer marker from which highway distances are measured, housing the imposing Metropolitan Cathedral, and having been the stage for crucial moments in Brazilian history.
[3] Pé de moleque is a popular, traditional Brazilian candy, similar to peanut brittle, made from roasted peanuts bound with caramelized sugar or rapadura (unrefined cane sugar)