《The Guild Core》


 TGC1 Prologue: Splinter of the Past

    Shield Sergeant Bloodspar


    Drystan crushed the squaller¡¯s sternum, his boot splintering the beast¡¯s ribs. It flailed a pair of emaciated arms and opened its mouth, a row of thin teeth making the creature look more like a fish pulled from the depths of an underground lake than any humanoid race.


    He pounded the side of its head with his hammer to be certain of its death.


    ¡°Sweet Andag! I think you¡¯ve killed it twice, Drystan,¡± a man said from behind him. ¡°Do you always make a mess like this?¡±


    As shield sergeant, Drystan Bloodspar had the right, the privilege, to stand among those in the front lines. Helm sergeants may get paid more but had to think for a living; they couldn¡¯t have nearly as much fun.


    Then again, he frowned as he tried to pull back his boot, which was lodged in the scrawny creature¡¯s ribcage, he figured they didn¡¯t have to contend with quite so much blood and gore, either.


    ¡°Should have seen the last dungeon.¡± Drystan smirked. ¡°For some reason, the thing used blasted pigs to defend its core. I haven¡¯t had the courage to eat a single rasher of bacon since.¡±


    The two men exchanged a laugh, then subdued their celebrations. Regardless of how easy this dungeon had been up to this point, they had yet to face its champion. No matter how small an Earth Core was, defeating its champion would be a challenge.


    Drystan grinned at his friend and spun the hammer in his hand. Like so many other Elites, his armor wasn¡¯t standard issue. He¡¯d had each piece modified to suit his body and his style of fighting. He¡¯d chosen the Stone-breaker class as a young man, and almost regretted it after. Few Stone-breakers lived long enough to earn their stripes in the army, fewer still to achieve any kind of rank.


    He¡¯d been more competent, however, than many had predicted. Before long, Drystan the Destroyer was promoted to shield sergeant, second in command of an entire platoon, and served in the prestigious Vermillion Guard. The Red Cloaks, the Bloody Hand, the Elites¡ªthe unit had many names¡ªbut regardless of what you called the Guard, it was plain to all that they only took the best into their ranks.


    The shield sergeant stepped forward, eyeing the man he¡¯d come to love as a brother. Drystan opened his mouth, but Sandrey spoke for him. ¡°I know. You¡¯re going first.¡± Holding out his armored hand, with a mocking bow, he willingly gave over the lead.


    A full squad of Elites waited in the dungeon¡¯s small main chamber, ready to provide support if needed. As the War of the Dragons raged on, the Brintoshi had learned how foolish it was to send too many soldiers down into a dungeon at one time. As this particular dungeon had been assigned the rather low ranking of Amber ascended, Drystan and Sandrey would finish it on their own.


    The glow of pale-blue ether filled every corner, making the passages inside all dungeons easy enough to see in. Drystan was glad they didn¡¯t have to carry flickering torches, stinking of pitch, as they delved into the hewn stone caverns for the Earth Cores. And, if one were being honest, no one could have guessed the war would end like this.


    Defeating a dungeon¡¯s minions and harvesting its ether and loot was one thing¡ªsoldiers and adventurers alike had been doing so for ages¡ªbut destroying them by shattering their precious gemstone hearts¡­ well, that was a different story entirely.


    Drystan strode ahead, noting a gentle decline in the dungeon floor. As he reached the bottom of the slope, he heard a scraping noise that sent shivers down his spine. So far, the dungeon had presented a consistent if disappointing defense: a rabble of roaming minions, all too weak to even dent his glorious armor.


    This new sound, though, came from something different. He glanced back to Sandrey and whispered, ¡°Two pints says that¡¯s the champion. Keep close.¡±


    Sandry didn¡¯t press the bet. Everyone knew Drystan¡¯s instincts were spot on. But he¡¯d make his man buy the first two rounds anyhow. After we¡¯re done here, we¡¯ll both be bored out of our minds and flush with too much coin to spend. Only ale and a few run-ins with tavern girls can save us then.


    Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind of anything but destruction. The champion fight was undoubtedly his favorite part of each dive, and he wouldn¡¯t be distracted by thoughts of milk-pale skin and lifted skirts.


    He moved with purpose, knowing that being caught within the doorway was worse than anything. Striding into the next chamber, Drystan saw a hunched form with far too many legs protruding from its back. Yet when it turned and hissed at him, he was surprised it wasn¡¯t anything like a spider.


    An amalgamation, as some experts called them, blinked too-large eyes at them. The dungeon had combined its humanoid squaller minion with some insect beast of the deep.


    Its skin was white and translucent, and long legs moved its frail body around gracefully. Instead of arms, the creature had long, probing appendages fanning out from its chest. By the way it moved them about, Drystan guessed they were sensory organs.


    He didn¡¯t bother scanning it to see whatever fool name the Earth Core had assigned the champion.


    It simply didn¡¯t matter.


    A beast like this was best felled from a distance. It would be venomous, or spit some kind of foul acid, so even as Sandrey walked to stand beside him, Drystan clutched his great hammer, lifting it just a foot above the ground. Then he trotted forward and to the side, turning in a single, tight spin, and launching the weapon into the beast¡¯s blighted maw.


    The champion tried to move away, and avoided a killing blow. Yet the hammer careened through the right side of its legs. It fell to its side, screaming in a language no civilized man could decipher.


    Drystan unsheathed a short sword and pointed a finger at the flailing beast, urging his companion on. ¡°All yours, Sandrey. Be quick about it. Would like to retrieve my hammer should anything else happen upon us.¡±


    In less than a minute, Sandrey relieved their foe of its other useful legs and finally its head.


    Drystan sighed in relief as the screaming finally stopped. Is there no way these vermin can die quietly? I swear, next time I¡¯m packing my ears with wax.


    The tinkle of loot hit the dungeon floor, but they ignored it. They were paid by the king, and anything claimed in such a venture was his due. Sandrey merely wiped some of the foul blood from his blade and they continued onward, Drystan again in the lead.


    A chamber lay ahead, visible through the narrow passageway they walked along. Drystan could tell it was large, though still some fifty feet away. As they came closer, the sprawling room presented itself, opening up at least another fifty feet on either side.


    He gazed back at Sandrey and gave him a quizzical look. The man shrugged back, as if to say your call. At that moment, Drystan almost did the smart thing, calling in the rest of their squad of Elites to face whatever beast lurked here together. But where¡¯s the shivving fun in that? he wondered and with a cocky grin, stepped into the chamber.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    As soon as his boot hit the stone floor, a rumbling filled the air, and a massive figure rose up before them. They could see it had been there all along, resting in a depression in the floor. Drystan had heard many fanciful tales in his life, most of them told in cramped bars over the rim of a too-oft emptied tankard of cheap ale, but none of the tales of dragons that reached his ears came from sober witnesses. Despite his lack of credible knowledge, Drystan instantly knew the dragon for what it was.


    ¡°By the gods! Drystan, we should flee. There weren¡¯t supposed to be any bloody dragons here!¡± Sandrey pleaded, tugging at his elbow. ¡°Come on, while there¡¯s still time!¡±


    Drystan would never be promoted to helm sergeant. He had neither the mental prowess to make the snap decisions required for adapting battlefield tactics on the fly, nor the patience to deal with petty posturing and the politics of the officer¡¯s tent. But those who followed and stood beside him knew his mind was as keen as the edge of an axe when it came to the action and reaction that was melee combat.


    Already, he had assessed the situation. This was a small dragon, only thirty feet from snout to tail. Its wings, which reared over its shoulders, made for a terrifying image, but its chest wasn¡¯t much broader than a stallion¡¯s.


    This dungeon was weak, and its shivving dragon had remained to guard the Earth Core while all the rest had flown to Hintar¡¯s aid. Drystan was sure the beast would still represent a danger to them. It would take a dozen or more Golden ascended knights to bring it down.


    But Drystan was no ordinary man.


    He¡¯d gained more power than most soldiers alive, fought countless battles, and he knew he could slay the dragon on his own.


    He tugged free of Sandrey¡¯s grip. ¡°No, this is a fight I will not turn away from.¡± Striding forward, Drystan called out in a mocking tone. ¡°If you aren¡¯t the last by now, you¡¯re damn near close enough. Why are you hiding away? Don¡¯t you know the fate of your kind?¡±


    The dragon¡¯s growl deepened, shaking the stone of the chamber itself. ¡°I will not leave my Earth Core.¡± It sneered, ¡°You are too small to slay me. Leave while you can, murderer!¡±


    Drystan¡¯s mocking laughter was so loud, the dragonling ceased its growls. ¡°Small? Aye, and yet my core contains more ether than yours.¡± He strode forward confidently. ¡°I¡¯ve killed scores of men and hundreds of beasts. And when I leave here, I¡¯ll have killed a dragon, as well.¡±


    Without further warning or even a pause to wait for his closest friend, Drystan charged.


    He bore no shield, but put his full trust in the destructive potential of a double-handed swing of his great hammer. The dragon swept forward with a talon-tipped paw; its attack was so quick, it nearly ended the fight before it had begun. But Drystan slid forward on his knees, the back of his helmet nearly touching the ground, and felt the wind of the attack pass through the space above him.


    Snapping his torso back upright, he used the momentum to smash the beast¡¯s overextended wrist in a fierce counterattack. The sound of bones cracking echoed in the chamber.


    Pulling back his swing, Drystan activated Meteor Blow, and the broad head of his hammer glowed an angry red before slamming forward again in a blur. When it landed on the dragon¡¯s shoulder, Drystan could feel the reverberating impact ripple through his arms.


    The dragon roared in pain, and clutched its shattered limb to its chest. Blood poured from its elbow where a shard of bone jutted through the skin, splintered by the terrible attack.


    It turned, as if to retreat, before spinning around to slam its tail to the ground, hoping to take Drystan off guard. But although this was his first fight with a real dragon, that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t trained for it.


    Timing, he knew, was everything.


    He rolled under the thrashing appendage and chopped viciously at the base of the tail with another counter. This time he used Anvil¡¯s Edge, and his hammer sheared off five feet of arm-thick and armored dragon tail.


    Another agonized roar reverberated through the chamber. Drystan never felt more alive than in the thick of combat, and his blood thrummed with power. This was what he lived for, and he knew, this was what he¡¯d most likely die for as well.


    ¡°Come, dragon!¡± he mocked. ¡°Have you no fire? No spells to call upon? Or should I crack open the side of your head and end this farce?¡±


    The dragon wasn¡¯t ready to admit defeat, not yet at least. Drystan could see that well enough. He prepared to dart in close, ducking under or leaping over the next attack, and then, when the dragon tried to bite him, he¡¯d land his hammer on the smooth, bone plating at its temple. A Meteor Blow there and it would be over.


    Too easy, he thought.


    Ending the contest so soon felt like blasphemy.


    So instead, Drystan stalked the cowering beast, hoping to draw the fight out a few moments more.


    Then the dragon let its jaw hang slack.


    Its throat began to glow.


    Nodes of ether-blue light lit up at the base of its neck and climbed up its neck to fill the back of its throat. It was using a spell at last. Men used skills, like Meteor Blow, but dragons had spells: a more potent defense.


    He waited, knowing again that timing would save him. And what glory to witness a dragon¡¯s spell craft and live to see the day.


    A beam of brilliant blue energy exploded from the beast¡¯s maw. Drystan leapt into a roll, avoiding the thick column of powerful ether.


    ¡°Down, Drystan!¡± Sandrey shouted from behind, and the chamber shook with the power of the creature¡¯s elemental attack. A boom, so loud it left his ears ringing, erupted behind him, and chips of stone from the back wall skittered across the floor.


    He turned to call his friend off, to demand to fight the beast alone.


    But when he saw what had become of his friend, he nearly collapsed.


    Chunks of Sandrey¡¯s body lay scattered across the ground. Struck by the beam, he had frozen solid, and then his torso shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces. His great sword, helm, and part of his breastplate were all that remained of Drystan¡¯s brother-in-arms.


    It was Drystan¡¯s turn to let out an agonized cry.


    Distantly, he heard the dragon preparing another spell. This time, the beast seemed to shimmer with a pale-green light, and even as Drystan looked on, its claws extended, becoming thin and sharp as curved rapiers.


    Ignoring the dragon¡¯s obvious power, he ran toward it headlong.


    Just as he¡¯d thought it would, the beast struck at him with its good paw. Drystan dove over the flashing talons and rolled back to his feet. He dodged a vicious bite, then pounded his hammer into the side of its skull.


    The cry of disorientation and pain that came from the creature fueled his following attacks.


    Trying to steady itself, the dragon splayed out its forelegs, its head hovering just before Drystan. Again, it activated its icy breath, the blue nodes lighting alone the length of its neck.


    The Destroyer didn¡¯t wait long enough for the spell to be completed. He swung up into the dragon¡¯s lower jaw. His hammer connected, cracking the bone to pieces. Spinning sideways, Drystan dodged a desperate attack and crushed the offending paw.


    A heart-rending cry of anguish rang through the dungeon. Drystan ran up the broken limb and jumped into the air. In an overhead strike, the man triggered his most powerful skill, Fist of Yugos. His hammer burned with the fire of a coal-heated forge, and when it landed, a ring of crimson force broke outward in all directions, crushing the knobby plate of the dragon¡¯s forehead.


    Fragments of brain and bone painted the nearby wall.


    The dragon¡¯s long body went slack and slumped to the stone. Drystan hammered at its head over and over until what remained was little more than a puddle of vermillion sludge.


    His breath came in sharp gasps and his whole body shook. He was in such a state, he barely noticed the outpouring of ether that emerged from the dragon¡¯s core and surged into him. He only stood, panting, feeling a deep and terrible cold settle within.


    After long moments staring at nothing, he remembered the shivving Earth Core.


    His friend¡ªthe only bloody man in the whole unit that could stand his company¡ªlay dead, because of his arrogance. It was all his fault. Sandrey¡¯s blood was on his hands. He had a job to do, though.


    A task both simple and sweet.


    Behind the slumped figure of the dragon, he spotted a glowing alcove tucked into the wall. There he found the gleaming Earth Core, ether-blue and pulsing helplessly.


    Drystan didn¡¯t use a skill this time, just brought down his hammer in an overhand blow that smashed it squarely. The sound the Earth Core made when it split into pieces resembled both the cracking of an egg and the shattering of a thick pane of glass. It sickened him, but at the same time, granted him an immense degree of satisfaction.


    ¡°There! Happy now, you blasted dungeon?¡± he screamed. ¡°Happy now?¡±


    His rage still writhed inside his body, and he had no outlet for it. Drystan threw down his hammer and smashed his fist into the shards of the core like he was pounding a drum.


    His bloodied fists smashed down again and again. As he struck an eighth and final time, Drystan let his hand fall flat, open wide and vulnerable, onto the remnants of the shards. A tiny sliver of the core wove through a gap in his steel gauntlet and buried itself in his palm.


    A thread of ice lanced through his body as he felt the sliver pierce muscle and bone.


    He cried out in pain and tore his hand free of his gauntlet to inspect the wound. For a moment, a blue light pulsed from the bloody gash in the base of his palm. Then it winked out, and he knew, somehow, that it had been absorbed. A tiny portion of this Earth Core was a part of him now.


    And no matter what he did, it would always be there to remind him of his sins.

 TGC1 Chapter 1: Our Man in Mindonne

    Kai


    Mindonne was like any other town in Brintosh, filled with quaint and modest people as loyal as they were ignorant of the world around them. Were it not for its proximity to the border of Hintar, an old and bitter rival, it may have remained so.


    The seventh bell rang as Kai came back from hunting. He¡¯d spent the day in the Atoli forest to the north, a safe, bright place to go, if one was set on the foolhardy task of becoming a hero. It was the only occupation Kai could ever imagine, and though he lacked the skill and constitution for such endeavors, he continued to try.


    Today¡¯s work, or rather the lack of it, had been frustrating, to say the least. He¡¯d set out to hunt the gray hares that lived among the pine and maples, but only happened upon a few squirrels. Not the bushy-tailed red squirrels that were much preferred for their pelts, but scrawny black squirrels that always, somehow, looked to be a single rotten acorn from death¡¯s door.


    He gathered them from the simple but effective snares he¡¯d set the day before. There was no need to be wasteful. Even though the creatures gave next to no ether when killed¡ªa clean knock on the head with his cudgel was all it took¡ªhe was grateful for every little bit.


    Then he¡¯d skinned them and wasted several more hours searching for gray hares. He¡¯d had no luck; the woods were empty. The squirrel population had been severely diminished, mostly due to his own efforts, and larger game rarely came so close to town.


    At least it¡¯s beautiful, he thought to himself, as he trod the endless tracks of hunters'' trails.


    Back in town, his first stop was to submit his few squirrel hides to the scrutiny of Yelda, the tanner¡¯s wife. The woman was of middling age, and, if seen from a distance, almost looked kindly and approachable. When haggling though, the Hintari tradeswoman was sharper than the javelins her people carried to war.


    She saw Kai approaching and her eyes narrowed to slits. Somehow, he knew he would always disappoint this woman. ¡°Hares for me today, Kai?¡± she asked, hand already on her hip.


    Her disdain stung more than he wanted to admit.


    Yelda was the only other person in town with Hintari blood, and he¡¯d assumed, quite foolishly, that because they had that in common, she¡¯d take a liking to him. Her face was as golden brown as the polished leather her husband produced, and if truth were told, Kai thought her beautiful.


    Yet when she looked at him, her features drew into a scowl of incomparable potency.


    He managed to respond without sarcasm, ¡°Sorry, no, not today, ma¡¯am, just some squirrel pelts.¡± Kai placed the three bedraggled skins on the table and cringed when Yelda practically boiled with frustration.


    Finally, she snapped, ¡°Did you flog the poor beasts before you killed them?¡± Kai bit his tongue, remembering the one he¡¯d had to strike several times before it had ceased thrashing in the snare. ¡°Shivving gods below, boy. I¡¯ll give you 2 coppers is all.¡±


    He winced, and held up a hand to complain.


    She cackled, her teeth flashing yellow. ¡°Three, then. If you haven¡¯t noticed, you¡¯ve killed near every squirrel in these damn woods, and few want their pelts any longer. Three, or nothing at all.¡±


    And so Kai relented, watching another day¡¯s labor swept disinterestedly into a sack. He picked up the three misshapen coppers she tossed his way and turned to see to his growing hunger.


    The next merchant in town he needed to see was Winford, the town baker, a man as generous as Andag himself. It was with a smile and a grumbling gut that he walked through the streets. Yelda and those damned gray hares could go and choke on Yugos¡¯ mighty spear for all he cared. It was time for food.


    The bakery stood at the far end of market square, yet the miraculous yeasty smell of rising bread filled near half the town. Kai whistled an old tune he¡¯d learned in childhood, ignoring the casual insults and scowls thrown his way.


    This close to Hintar, war had taken a toll on Mindonne and its people. Nearly twenty years had passed since a shaky peace settled things down, but hatred and distrust remained. Anyone with even a drop of golden Hintari blood was treated like pond scum.


    As he approached the square, Kai saw the two people he hated more than anything. Roarke and Karsen were young men with vinegar in their veins and heads harder than a winter turnip. They¡¯d found him the other day practicing attacks with his cudgel at the edge of town. No hero can gain skill without practice, after all, but it had prompted the troublemakers to pester him.


    Thankfully, a few too many townsfolk were around for things to get ugly, so they¡¯d settled on the usual insults instead of giving him the drubbing they¡¯d have preferred. He knew a confrontation was inevitable; he only wished to be well-fed when it happened.


    Kai jogged around the back of the bakery and ducked behind a fence. He watched the two boys pass from a distance. ¡°Shivving bastards. Give me another year and I will best you both,¡± he cursed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure they look like creeping slimes, but they¡¯re barely men, Kai. Just like you,¡± Winford said from the back door.


    Kai attempted to look casual, but it was obvious the baker knew what he was about. ¡°I know. I just don¡¯t want any trouble,¡± he explained. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m tired and hungry.¡±


    Winford laughed easily and gestured for him to come inside. ¡°I¡¯m sure you are. Come and have your meal, Kai.¡±


    Wanting to change the subject, Kai held up his prize. ¡°I have three squirrels for the pot if you¡¯ll have them. A bit scrawny,¡± he admitted, ¡°but good enough to eat.¡±


    Winford nodded agreeably. ¡°Sure. Sure. My stew is already done, but I know just who¡¯ll need these for tonight. Here.¡± The baker tossed him a brown bundle. ¡°Figured these¡¯ll help you on your next outing.¡±


    Kai caught the burlap sack and thanked the man. Regardless of what had been inside it, Kai knew he probably needed it. After all, a handful of seeds to a poor farmer is as good as gold, they say, Kai thought, weighing the gift speculatively.


    ¡°Thank you, Winford. I appreciate the help.¡±


    The baker approached, palming a skinny shoulder in his big hand, and peered into Kai¡¯s eyes. ¡°I know your heart is set on slaying wild beasts and ascending your core, but there are other ways of living. You could make a life here in Mindonne, become my apprentice. Hell, boy, you could have yourself a wife before harvest. I made my vows when I was seventeen, and you¡¯re what, almost twenty?¡± The man chuckled. ¡°Nothing like warm sheets to make you feel content.¡±


    Kai stared down at his feet, shaking his head. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how much that means to me, sir, but I could have had the same life at my uncle¡¯s farm. I came here because it is close to the mountains and close to the swamp. I will win a wife when I have made a heap of gold and gathered enough stories to last a lifetime.¡±


    Winford smiled and then clapped Kai on the back. Before the man left with the squirrels, though, he added one more piece of advice. ¡°Kai, the thing with young men like Roarke and Karsen ¡­ find a way to earn their respect and they¡¯ll not only accept you, but they might become friends. Give it a try, okay? I promise, they aren¡¯t evil.¡±


    Kai nodded and watched the man leave, then ducked into the kitchen, breathing in the rich scents of potato, herbs, and grease that perfumed the air. Though he¡¯d always had plenty to eat on his uncle¡¯s farm growing up, Kai hadn¡¯t tasted proper cooking until Winford had given him a portion of his daughter¡¯s stew.


    Sorcha stood kneading dough for the next day¡¯s bake. When she saw him enter, she pointed to the small table in the corner. ¡°There¡¯s yours. Be quick with it too. I¡¯ve got lots to do and don¡¯t need your creeping eyes about.¡±


    Winford¡¯s only child was not nearly as kind and warm as he was, yet Kai knew she had a good heart. If not, then surely her bread wouldn¡¯t taste so good.


    The young man sat and ate, barely allowing himself time between bites to breathe. The rich flavors of rosemary and red peppers danced upon his palate. He suppressed a moan, knowing his company wouldn¡¯t at all approve of such vocalizations.


    Each evening, he received a bowl of Sorcha¡¯s stew and a roll of day-old bread in trade for whatever meat he brought or a few copper coins, whichever he had to spare.


    Once, Kai had managed to bring in three fat hares and had gone to the butcher instead. He¡¯d sold each coney for five coppers. But when he brought in smaller game, Winford would take it to one of the widows he looked after.


    Kai stole a glance at Sorcha. The woman worked with the tenacity and vigor of one who¡¯d repeated the same motions a thousand times. He noticed the hitch and sway of her bosom as it tested the limits of her blouse. By Briga¡¯s sweet breath, and her hips! Stout enough to hold back the coming of winter itself.


    Clearing his mind, Kai forced himself to view her in a way his aunt would¡¯ve approved of. Her hands were callused and strong, and she had a fierce determination about her brow that would ensure she finished preparing for the next day¡¯s bread a thousand times to come in the future as well.


    Plain and simple, Sorcha toiled away harder than many professionals and Kai knew why her father was proud of her.


    Sure enough though, Sorcha caught Kai in the middle of his appraising thoughts, and her eyes bulged in a flash of anger.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Quit your creeping!¡± she snapped and Kai dutifully studied the wall, stifling a laugh.


    She wasn¡¯t much older than himself, perhaps twenty-one years old. It wasn¡¯t simply that Sorcha¡¯s face was pleasant, nor even the cream of her skin or the bounty of her magnificent chest that pulled his eyes in as surely as the clutches of a miremog. It was also how she snapped at him as she would any other man in Mindonne.


    Unlike most of the other girls in town, Sorcha never pretended he didn¡¯t exist.


    Kai left the bowl on the small table and scooped the bread into the bag Winford had given him. When he looked inside, he saw four small apples, a bit discolored but shining up at him like rubies. Those would account for dessert, as well as breakfast and lunch on the morrow.


    ¡°Thanks, love. I¡¯d be dead from hunger twice over if it wasn¡¯t for your stew,¡± he said, dodging a well-aimed slap.


    Sorcha growled like a feral mountain cat, but continued her work. Kai giggled to himself and headed back outside the bakery.


    Dusk fell over Mindonne town, and the few people who scurried about last-minute chores threw dubious glances Kai¡¯s way. He had grown used to their suspicion and mostly ignored such attention. Since he¡¯d arrived here nearly six months ago, little had changed. If you weren¡¯t born in Mindonne, you were never truly welcome.


    Cheered by the warm stew in his belly, Kai went looking for his friend. Besides Winford, Jakodi was the only friend Kai had made here. It smarted that both of his acquaintances were older men. His peers didn¡¯t give him the time of day, and the girls in Mindonne weren¡¯t as friendly as those he¡¯d grown up with.


    The young man found the wizard on his stoop below the three-faced shrine of Brintosh¡¯s godhead.


    The kindly face in the center represented Briga, the mother of all, waves swirling around her image. Andag, the kind and generous father, stood to her left. His element was earth. And on the right, surrounded by gouts of flame, was the stern and deadly visage of Yugos, favored by the Brintoshi. He was the god of war.


    Jakodi looked up as Kai approached. The old wizard¡¯s face, somehow smooth despite his long thinning white hair, reminded Kai of an ancient scroll. His skin was parchment thin, branching veins beneath visible even from a few paces away. And of course, Jakodi¡¯s eyes were white and sightless.


    The old man smiled and greeted him. ¡°From the forest¡¯s deep returns the adventurer, Kai! Was your day bountiful?¡±


    Kai couldn¡¯t help but grin. Each day he found Jakodi after his evening meal, and each day the same greeting was given. ¡°Well enough to feed myself. Still, I can¡¯t help but wish tomorrow will be better.¡±


    Jakodi nodded, his mouth still crinkled in an honest grin. ¡°Do you wish me to read your progress, young adventurer?¡±


    ¡°Yes, please,¡± Kai answered, hopeful, despite knowing little had changed since the day before. He focused his mind, allowing the wizard to see within him.


    Jakodi peered into Kai¡¯s soul a moment before pronouncing, ¡°Your current Progression is 78. You lack only 22 Progression until you ascend to Crimson 1. Well done, Kai!¡±


    Kai sighed, feeling the slow pace of his first essential goal weigh on him. A single point for the three scrappy squirrels he¡¯d killed was a modest gain, though, so he tried to take it in stride. After all, some days, he couldn¡¯t find any game.


    Seeming to sense the young man¡¯s distress, Jakodi encouraged him. ¡°Many in this world never progress at all. Their cores remain diffuse, unfocused. To become ascended, it will take considerable patience and hard work, Kai. You know this.¡±


    Kai nodded, forcing himself to smile. And the old man was right.


    He¡¯d come to Mindonne months ago with a Progression of only 17. That had been accumulated from a lifetime of killing the squirrels and small beasts near his childhood home. The normal toil of life, slaughtering chickens or even the occasional swine, granted no ether. For some unknown reason, it was only in combat that ether could be gathered into your core.


    It was a frustrating reality, but explained why so few besides hunters, adventurers, and soldiers ascended.


    After leaving the farm behind, he¡¯d promised himself to become a Crimson ascended warrior in no time at all.


    Life, however, was more complicated than he¡¯d thought. He needed to eat, a place to sleep, and keep his clothes cleaned and maintained. Adding to those modest ambitions, he¡¯d found he needed to add a warm bath once a week if the townsfolk were to deal with him at all.


    Jakodi held up his hand and Kai took it, helping the wizard to his feet.


    The old man was about as heavy as a sack of wet feathers. Kai supported him effortlessly. The wizard patted his hand when he stepped down, then turned toward his hut at the edge of town.


    While they walked, Jakodi told Kai a story. Such was their ritual each evening, and the young man had grown to enjoy each telling despite having long since outgrown such pleasures. Still, he could not afford the luxury of a book, and had few enough encounters that called for polite conversation. He humored the old man, taking each tale for what it was: a gift cheerfully given.


    Today, Jakodi began with the tale of Midge the Muck Farmer, and though the story had a bawdy twist at the end that usually brought a smile to his lips¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t laugh to hear of a man cuckolded by his own swine?¡ªit reminded Kai too much of the radishes and potatoes of his uncle¡¯s farm.


    ¡°Can you tell me of Kevir¡¯s fall?¡± Kai asked as politely as he could. Then he amended his request, ¡°I¡¯m a young man and haven¡¯t even kissed a girl for a year and a day, Jakodi. Tell me of something other than jaded love.¡±


    Jakodi laughed, a dry and merry sound. ¡°With speed and with pleasure, my boy. Then I¡¯ll tell a story of true love.¡± Without pause, the wizard began, ¡°The great dragon Kevir was the bastion of Old Hintar. His wings spread wide enough to encompass an entire village, and his fire could melt the stars above.¡±


    Kai loved the way the old wizard told stories. Though the stories rarely changed, with each telling, Kai plucked out some new fragment or detail.


    The story meandered along with them, the battles Kevir fought, his growing pride, and the woman whose beauty captivated the beast¡¯s heart.


    ¡°And for the first time, a dragon bound itself to this world. Kevir gave half of his strength to the mountain he rested upon, creating the first Earth Core. This new creature, the first dungeon, grew in wisdom and power, fueled by Kevir¡¯s vast stores of ether.


    "Within the dungeon, Kevir could take on the likeness of a man, and there he learned the art of quill and parchment, to write the endless depths of his love for the woman he¡¯d seen bathing at the river.


    ¡°Soon, he left his dungeon on wings of ambition, finding the small keep the woman called home. The knights there prepared themselves for a valiant death, but were surprised when the great dragon lifted back up into the air again and flew back to the mountains.


    "Only a scroll remained on the churned soil where he¡¯d landed, and upon the scroll, an elegant hand inquired¡­¡±


    Kai cut in, finishing the familiar line, ¡°For a thousand taels of gold and a thousand more of silver, send me the woman with hair of fire and eyes of jade."


    Another burst of laughter escaped Jakodi¡¯s lips, and he patted Kai¡¯s hand again. ¡°Why ask me to tell you then, if you know the story so well on your own?¡±


    ¡°Because it inspires me. I hope to find a dungeon one day and claim its riches for my own,¡± he admitted, knowing full well that all remaining Earth Cores were either shivvered beyond repair or else strictly controlled and jealously guarded by the King¡¯s vast armies. ¡°Still, I wonder,¡± he mused, ¡°have all the dragons died? Surely, Jakodi, some must have escaped into the mountains?¡±


    The wizard fell quiet for a few minutes before answering thoughtfully, ¡°There are many hidden places in this land. Anything is possible, my friend.¡±


    Kai indulged himself in another question. Jakodi was ever-patient, so he had no fear of irking the man. ¡°I know the Tale of Kevir is part myth, but how much do you suppose is accurate? Do dragons really make Earth Cores? Can they only take human form inside their dungeons, or can they do so outside as well? Oh, and why would a creature so powerful wish to become vulnerable like that in the first place? Kevir¡¯s end, if he truly died in such a fashion, must have provoked the dragons to avoid giving over some of their power to make an Earth Core, not carry the tradition forward.¡±


    ¡°All good questions, Kai. Much of the legend is true, yet the details have all likely gone to meat and mushrooms. Similar taste but different substance. I¡¯m not even sure if there was a maiden. Your last point is quite interesting. I believe the dragons continued on making Earth Cores because it gained them access to novel experiences. Living as a man is much different than as a dragon. Having access to both must have been irresistible for creatures with the intelligence and sophistication of the dragons. They didn¡¯t exactly do as Kevir did either. A great council was held in which rules were defined in how Earth Cores were to be both protected and restricted.¡±


    Kai¡¯s eyes lit up. The details, the precise how and why of past events, always fascinated him. ¡°Tell me that story, then! Or do you have a book on the matter?¡±


    They arrived at the wizard¡¯s small hut, a roof and four walls cobbled together with goodwill and a double portion of hope more so than nails and milled wood. Turning to his friend, he said in a tired voice, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Kai. You are right to suspect. No story can contain all that passed in the forging of those laws of magic. The books, any we might access in our corner of the world at least, are taken or destroyed.¡±


    The wizard winked, his abundant mirth returning easily. And before he bid the young adventurer goodnight, he placed a hand on his forehead, sending a thread of warmth through his body. The lump on Kai¡¯s head, along with a scraped shin and scratches on his forearm, healed, leaving only the faintest memory of a wound. The injuries were minor, the products of a few careless moments when setting another snare, but their sudden disappearance was a wondrous relief.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the coin for such a boon, Jakodi. Please¡­¡±


    The wizard snapped his fingers, and chided, ¡°Shush, now, my son. Not even crows like idle chatter. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±


    Then Jakodi shut the door, leaving Kai alone in the street.


    The young man hurried home, no longer slowed by his friend¡¯s old and ailing joints. And though Jakodi hadn¡¯t finished the rest of the story, Kai continued to replay the ending in his head.


    Kevir waited on his mountain throne with his Earth Core, his only friend.Until one day, a contingent of men brought the woman he¡¯d fallen in love with. The Lord of the landhad happily agreed; she was only a servant after all. When they arrived, a handful of knights pulled her along and tossed her in the dungeon, removing the treasureKevir offered them.


    And though the Lord would never have dared attack a dragon, he saw firsthand the humble form Kevir wore. Fair to the eye, but a man as frail as any other. So that night, the Lord sent his men to slay the dragon in his sleep.


    The story struck a note deep within Kai. It heralded the beginning of an era, as much as it told of the bitter end of one. Kai would give anything to have seen Kevir in his majesty or any beast so mighty.


    Kai could almost hear Jakodi¡¯s voice whisper the final lines. If legend can be trusted, his death gave birth to a hundred more dragons. Each of these made their own Earth Cores, filling the mountains with wonder. The world was never the same again.


    Kai shook his head, shaking his idle thoughts away. Imagining the world alive and full of dragons and dungeons deep wouldn¡¯t bring them back to life.


    He stared about him at the empty marketplace, the butcher¡¯s stand and the sagging buildings of Mindonne, and for the hundredth time, wanted so much ¡­ more. Kind as Winford¡¯s offer of apprenticeship had been, Kai could never settle for such a humble life.


    At last, he came to Maeve¡¯s house. He walked up the alley around the side of her home, the back of which served as the town''s brewery. The malty tang of her trade suffused Kai¡¯s clothes and filled his nose each night until he couldn¡¯t smell anything else.


    The roof behind slanted down and fell almost to the ground. A small but dry storage room rested against the back of the brewery. The walls of his tiny home were warmed by the fires of the burners and boilers beyond the wooden walls. Atop a few empty crates in the back, padded by a thin, woolen mattress, Kai slept each night.


    He¡¯d seen the faces of the townsfolk when they occasionally saw him tumble out of his tiny home, but he didn¡¯t care.


    It was warm and dry.


    Kai gave Maeve eight pennies a week for the pleasure, and she was kind enough to include a mug of ale every Sunday and an old blanket.


    So, as Kai pulled out one of the apples Winford had given him, he crawled into his steamy nook, and took a bite. There was frightfully little he could do when the light failed. He¡¯d had coin for a candle to read borrowed books, and for a time, he found a few townsfolk willing to pay a penny for a whittled toy knight.


    Those luxuries had been short-lived, however, and besides, he was as tired as a thrice-told joke. He lay down on his rough bed and fell to his first and final pastime, daydreaming of adventures to come.


    He would prove himself worthy of being called a true Brintoshi one day, no matter how much it cost him. He only hoped it didn¡¯t take too long.

 TGC1 Chapter 2: From Spark to Flame

    Kai


    It was Friday, and though he¡¯d just handed Maeve eight of the twelve pennies he had to his name, Kai left town with a spring in his step and a spirit buoyed with hope.


    The past few weeks had been lean hunting. At one point over the past months, Kai¡¯s stockpile had grown to two silver and fifteen coppers, but his stash had dwindled as the red squirrels and fat hares in the surrounding forest thinned.


    Desperate to gain Progression and a handful of coin, Kai had unwisely challenged a buck the week before. It had showed him exactly how thick his skin was in a matter of moments. The beast had charged, its great antlers goring Kai in his ribs. After thrashing to and fro, it had bounded away into the forest, leaving Kai bloody and ragged.


    He¡¯d hobbled back to town, faint with blood loss and a good deal wiser. Despite his situation, he could not afford to tangle with beasts more powerful than himself.


    Jakodi had healed him, but had been so taxed by the effort he was consigned to bed the following day; the old man was forced to charge Kai for his services.


    So, rather than buy the wooden buckler or the spiked mace he¡¯d been eyeing in the armorer¡¯s shop, he¡¯d kept his black oak cudgel, cut from a bough near his uncle¡¯s farm. Though the handle curved slightly, the end was formidable, for a chunk of wood at least. An insect had pestered the branch enough that a knot had grown around the wound, forming a dense burl. It was the only weapon Kai could afford, so he treasured it.


    Making a meal out of the bread Sorcha had given him and another apple, Kai headed out of town, moving through the trees of the forest before half the town had roused itself. Kai frittered away these first few hours of the morning in fruitless searching. Not a single squirrel or rabbit stirred in the brush. Kai considered heading back to town to beg a bit of work from someone, enough to fill his belly that night at least, before turning south instead.


    Kai had meandered to the southern reaches of the Atoli forest, close to the edge of the Mirin Swamps, the endless mire that so many adventurers feared. Only once had he been foolish enough to continue beyond the forest¡¯s edge. After spending a sleepless night in a tree waiting for a pack of wolves to grow bored, he¡¯d run home and hadn¡¯t come back since then.


    There was game aplenty there, however, and monsters to fight. If Kai braved the swamps and killed even a few of the creatures that stalked the murky marsh, he might ascend to Crimson this very day! The danger it represented was real. So, it was with a pit of uncertainty in his stomach, that Kai found himself stalking south beyond the Atoli toward the gloomy mists of the Mirin Swamp.


    The trees changed first.


    Instead of the green and supple boughs of the Atoli¡¯s pines that he was used to, the trees hunched over themselves, becoming twisted gray caricatures of arboreal vitality. Something in the soil may have been responsible, a forgotten waste spilled in the depths of the swamp long ago, or perhaps brackish waters seeped up the delta from the ocean. Either way, only a few trees survived, with a handful of leaves or a stubborn clump of needles the only evidence of their continued struggle for life.


    Kai made his way among the soggy hillocks, trying to stay on the diminishing trail he¡¯d started down. The ground he stood on sank as he shifted his weight and he fell forward, his boot sinking into a pocket of mud. Bright pain seared his leg just above the ankle, and he raised his cudgel, afraid he might be under attack. Yet only a shrunken plant stood valiantly against him, some thistle perhaps, tough enough to pierce the tattered fabric of his pants.


    When his plight became clear, he focused on pulling his foot free of the clingy, devouring muck, nearly losing his boot.


    Sitting down to put his boot back on and assess the bleak situation, Kai spotted movement at the base of a nearby tree. He squinted, doubting his eyesight for a moment, before another flash of movement revealed the squashed and ugly face of a mole peeking up from its hole.


    It was huge, for a mole that is, as large as a half-grown hound. Its tiny eyes glittered with malevolence.


    This is it, Kai thought, standing and rolling his shoulders back, preparing himself for battle. Swing hard and swing true, you idiot. Don¡¯t screw this up!


    Hefting his cudgel, he slogged forward, only to see the animal duck down in its burrow again. He peered down into the hole, aware of a faint musk. Having committed himself to the attack, Kai pondered how he might flush the creature out but came up short. He could start a fire and smoke it out but wasn¡¯t even sure how to go about doing such a thing amidst the damp gloom of the swamp.


    So, with a belly full of desperation and strengthened by the ignorance of youth, he stuck his hand down the hole. Due more to the shabby leather gloves that he wore than the strength of his bones, Kai didn¡¯t lose his fingers when the mole attacked his intruding digits. Kai curled his hand into a fist, instinctively grasping the mole¡¯s snout, and yanked the overgrown rodent out of its den.


    If an onlooker had witnessed the previous exchange, they would be hard pressed to decide who was more surprised by this turn of events when the mole literally landed in Kai¡¯s lap. The beast squealed and Kai squirmed away, scrambling for his club. They both came to their feet and then valiantly strove to kill one another.


    The mole flashed forward, too fast for a mere garden pest, the like he¡¯d grown used to battling in the potato patch. Kai swung his cudgel with full force, but the beast slipped beneath his attack, and leapt up at him. It sank its teeth and claws in the soft flesh of his thigh. Kai winced, stifling a yelp, and smashed the animal on its head.


    Tougher than a barrel full of stones, the mole continued to savage his leg until he¡¯d struck it half a dozen times, the sharp crack of its crushed skull and a pink spatter of blood and brain marking his success.


    ¡°Shivving bastard! Gods, I need a real bleeding weapon!¡± he growled, the full extent of his injuries flaring to life.


    As the mole¡¯s twitching form finally fell still, Kai saw the telltale threads of ether drift up into the air from its body like smoke. More ether than he¡¯d ever seen before twisted in the air towards him.


    When Kai had first learned how soldiers and heroes grew in power, it had sickened him. But it made sense. Taking the mole¡¯s life, he now absorbed the ether it had collected throughout its lifetime, adding it to his own meager etheric density. His skin tingled and his breath grew cold for an instant.


    A strange feeling unlike any other, absorbing ether was an exhilarating experience. It felt as if his soul was growing, expanding somehow. That sensation alone was reason enough to seek the adventuring life.Stolen story; please report.


    And then it was over, and the inconvenience of reality returned. Kai had to pry the mole¡¯s mouth open to extract its long, sharp teeth from his flesh. In his defense, Kai only came close to passing out once, and it wasn¡¯t from the pain, but when he saw a chunk of skin and muscle flap open, the flash of blood, muscle tissue, and yellow fat making his head swim.


    But thankfully his uncle, the taciturn Shem Bremenburr, had shown him how to react to such injuries in a pinch long ago. He tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and wrapped the wound tight, promising himself he¡¯d check it later, hopefully after Jakodi healed him.


    The outskirts of the swamp was thankfully far less foul and dreary than its center. A few rebellious trees thrived, despite the poor soil, and the sun shone down in all its glory without a care for who or what noticed. Kai recovered by drinking deeply from his waterskin and resting against the mole¡¯s tree.


    The water tasted like wine gone to vinegar, and occasionally he had to spit out flecks of leather. His converted wineskin was too old to be truly serviceable, but for Kai, it was sufficient. He¡¯d been lucky enough to see a man toss it out into the alley near the pub a few weeks back, and he¡¯d put up with the sour taste ever since.


    Kai dozed, his body warmed in the sun and buffeted gently by the wind. When he woke though, his legs were stiff, and his wound throbbed madly. Rather than give in to despair, he ate another apple before inspecting his kill.


    No mole was cute, but this one took ugly to another level entirely. Its snout looked like a hound¡¯s, more broad and powerful than the common moles he¡¯d seen busy warring with potato patches. The beast¡¯s teeth reminded him of the widows who came to Winford¡¯s bakery once a week for bread¡ªyellow, twisted, and somehow threatening. Most spectacular, though, was the sheer size of the animal. Its compact body, corded with muscle, would have been a match for most of the dogs in town.


    Kai used his knife to open up its belly and skin it. The process was quick despite the bluntness of the blade. Kai was practiced by now, having skinned every rodent there was, including mice, since leaving the farm. The pelt he pulled off was glossy and thick.Enough for a fist full of coppers,he hoped.


    He finished his task and considered the body. The meat looked off somehow, so he dragged his knife through the thick muscle of the mole¡¯s back and recoiled when he saw white worms writhe out in protest. He thought of taking the claws or the teeth, but they were chipped and rotten. Grimacing, Kai left the remains for whatever lucky scavenger happened upon it next.


    Kai was halfway back to town, feeling about as tall and endowed as a stone troll, when he heard voices ringing through the woods. These weren¡¯t just any voices. As he came closer, he picked out one in particular that made him sigh in frustration. Roarke O¡¯Dennihee, one of the finest young men in town and already half famous. What shivving luck I have. Twice in two days! The youth in question was singing his own praises so loud that soon even the dead mole knew of his courage and wit.


    Walking along the main road that led back into Mindonne, Kai couldn¡¯t avoid a confrontation unless he broke off through the woods and continued on into town from a different direction. A part of him wanted nothing more than to wait for the group to pass by, but the thought of hiding away yet again was too sour to swallow.


    Besides, what had Winford suggested?Win their respect, huh?Kai considered the fine kill and the dire nature of his wounds, and couldn''t think of a better way to earn a man''s respect. Maybe they weren¡¯t so bad after all.


    Roarke¡¯s face lit with a smile when he saw Kai.¡°Kai, the powerful hero! What have you got there? Another clutch of squirrels?¡± He smirked, pulling a half-hearted chuckle from Dunny but only a scowl from Karsen.


    Kai showed them the skin on the stick, unfolding it to its full length. ¡°It was a mole if you¡¯ll believe it. Thing was as big as Master Connogan¡¯s hound!¡±


    Dunny''s face registered shock as the size of the bloody pelt was revealed. Even Roarke paused a moment and seemed taken aback. Karsen¡¯s face scrunched up though. ¡°Where¡¯d you get it? Moles don¡¯t get that big in the forest.¡±


    It was with a sense of pride that Kai pointed back toward the gloom of the swamps and said, ¡°Just a few miles into the swamps is all. Found it quick enough, and though he put up quite a fight, I managed to stove his head in. Only had to use my leg as bait.¡±


    Kai¡¯s attempt at a joke should have worked to bridge the gap that separated the young men, but other than a chuckle from Dunny, they remained obstinate. Karsen was the first to deny the evidence that hung limply before their eyes. ¡°Doubt you killed it. More like you found some dead dog on the ground and skinned it.¡±


    Dunny looked horrified while Roarke grinned. The bigger man nodded to Karsen, adding, ¡°Yeah, and who knows. What if you just stole that from an honest hunter?¡±


    "I am an honest hunter," Kai responded, a bit of gravel entering his voice.


    "No Hintari is honest," Karsen growled back.


    Kai''s hackles rose and he felt his face grow red.Here we go again,he fumed to himself.It always comes back to my Hintari heritage.He took deep breaths to slow his pounding heart, trying in vain to suppress his rising anger.


    Roarke cut in again, "I think we should take that skin off your cren-covered hands. Only a real Brintoshi should have such a fine prize."


    Kai stepped back defensively. "It''s mine. I earned it and I''m keeping it. I just thought you might want to know where I got it from."


    "Just give it over, scale skin. No need for things to get rough," Karsen said, his eyes unwavering.


    The words that bolted out of Kai¡¯s mouth made no allowances for normal discourse. It came out almost as a scream, ¡°Hells, no!¡±


    The three young men flinched, though two of them would never admit to it. But then, of course, Karsen found his courage again, and his fists.


    Though barely older than Dunny and not as tall or broad as Roarke, Karsen, like the rest of his family, had to contend with a father who beat the dust off his jacket near every day of his life. His body had become more deadly than Kai''s in every way.


    He knew how to fight.


    Karsen''s fist caught Kai on his jaw, and to the group''s shared surprise, the smaller boy didn¡¯t fall. The blow knocked a few of his teeth loose in their sockets, though, and after Karsen punched him again in the gut and once more to the side of the head, the world lurched, and Kai fell to his hands and knees. His head dropped low, pressing into the cool dampness of the ground; the world spun around him.


    Laughter rose like day moths from the vines of a neglected tomato plant. Kai¡¯s head lolled loosely from his shoulders. He struggled to get his bearings back, but the last blow had sent his wits sprawling. He spit, focusing on the copper tang of blood in his mouth, praying like mad to Yugos for the strength not to pass out.


    Kai¡¯s vision cleared enough to see Karsen stoop down and pick up the mole skin. The boys laughed, then he heard the retreating crunch of their boots on the gravel of the road.


    Little in the world can rival the potency of a young man¡¯s self-loathing. Kai indulged himself, calling himself a cren-blooded coward and worse. Rage built up in his heart and pressed against the bruises in his head and body, the pain somehow clearing his mind of all thoughts but two: he wasn¡¯t meant to be knocked down, and he knew he was born with a heart more noble, more true, than any of the boys who¡¯d wronged him.


    He thought of Dunny, a kind face held in check by an ocean of shame. He¡¯s no hero! He¡¯s a coward! Roarke¡¯s ruddy face filled his mind next, handsome and strong. But Kai more than anyone had seen how quickly that porcelain visage chipped away, had seen the hate and vitriol it tried so hard to conceal. He¡¯ll never be a hero either. Last of all, he thought of Karsen. He almost pitied the young man. His family were lumberjacks who toiled away in the woods, day after day waging a back-breaking fight to earn enough to survive.


    Kai knew, however, that Karsen would never fight back against the cause of his misery, his own father.


    There¡¯re all shivving cowards! Kai realized for the first time. Throwing his pain to the wind, and ignoring the rush of nausea that followed, Kai stood up, regaining his full height. His gaze burned into the backs of the retreating boys as he caught his breath, wiping away the blood spilling from his mouth.


    Dunny glanced back, and seeing Kai¡¯s sudden resolve, started in surprise. The other boys noticed Dunny¡¯s reaction and turned to look as well. Kai could see them scrambling for some sharpened piece of wit to throw his way. Karsen seemed like he wanted nothing more than to return and finish what he¡¯d started.


    Before anything else could happen though, Kai¡¯s voice filled the air, somehow noble and ringing with the clarity of struck brass. ¡°Not a single one of you has any measure of courage, and I doubt you ever will. The lot of you are cowards and you know it!¡±


    Karsen and Roarke both froze, the smirks on their faces shriveling like pruned weeds in the summer heat. Then they turned back to meet a newly valiant Kai.

 TGC1 Chapter 3: With Oldest Blood

    Kai


    Karsen, red-faced and fuming, charged back to defend his honor. Kai realized he was about to get a real beating, one he hadn''t experienced since he was caught lifting a few oranges from a tradesman¡¯s cart when he was fifteen. For a moment, Kai had the urge to run, but the words that sprung from Karsen''s mouth changed everything.


    "I''ll show you who''s brave, you half-born bastard,¡± Karsen sneered. ¡°Your own whore of a mother won''t recognize you after I''m done with you."


    Without thinking,Kai unslung his cudgel and attacked. Roarke and Dunny gasped as Karsen barely managed to dodge the first swing. Then in a flash, Karsen''s axe was in his hands. It was just a simple woodsman''s axe, light but sharp as the devil''s prick.


    ¡°Dragon-shivving Hintari!¡± Karsen screamed. "You trying to get yourself killed?!" He swung with the force and precision of a woodsman, blocking Kai''s next attack. The cudgel snapped in two and the hard knob that made the crude weapon almost seem like a mace fell to the ground.


    Holding only a stick, Kai lifted his diminished weapon with as much dignity as he could muster.


    Roarke¡¯s laugh was harsh and whispered, like the soft whisk of a blade across a sharpening stone, an almost-private sound reserved for solitude or the shared joy of foul deeds.


    In two quick strikes, Karsen smacked the stick from Kai''s grip and slapped the blunt end of his axe into his chest. For the second time that afternoon, Kai found himself on the ground.


    Karsen tossed the axe aside and straddled Kai. "I''ll show you how useful courage is," he hissed. Kai tried to push back, to get up, but Karsen pinned him down with his knees and threw punches at Kai''s face too fast to block. Several strikes landed about his head as fast as dragonflies before he managed to block a few, but the blows kept coming. They weren''t as heavy as before, and Kai realized Karsen meant to break his spirit as surely as his face.


    Kai tried to defend himself, but it was no use. Karsen had learned too much from his father.


    A voice split the air, somehow stopping the deluge of punches. ¡°Let him prove it then!¡± Dunny called out.


    Everyone turned to stare at the blushing youth, who had already stifled any further outbursts, slapping both hands over his mouth. Dunny looked as guilty as a bread thief with crumbs on his tunic, but he¡¯d spoken too boldly to be ignored any longer.


    Karsen growled at his brother, ¡°Shut your trap! The fun''ll be over soon enough.¡±


    But caught up in the scene unfolding before him, Roarke held up a hand and called out, ¡°Hold on ¡­ what do you mean, Dunny? How could a spineless cren-eater like this prove himself?¡±


    Dunny¡¯s eyes went wider still as he racked his brain for any acts of foolhardy bravery that might be of use.


    The moment stretched out too long. Just as Karsen pulled back his fist again, Dunny blurted out, ¡°Have him touch the shivvered dungeon! Only a brave man would do that."


    After a few astonished seconds, an intrigued Roarke chuckled. ¡°Or a fool.¡± He called to his friend, reaching out to keep the raised fist from continuing its punishment. ¡°Karsen, I¡¯m sure you can hold your ire for a moment while we settle this once and for all. If this bloater will walk into the dungeon on the hill and touch its shivvered core, we¡¯ll know him a man of courage. Hells. I¡¯ll even buy you a pint, Kai,¡± he snorted.


    Kai¡¯s assailant lowered his fist, giving Roarke a brief nod, as if to say, I¡¯m listening.


    ¡°But,¡± Roarke held up a finger, ¡°if not, Karsen will give full vent to his wrath, and we¡¯ll tell the town guards you attacked him with a weapon. You¡¯ll have to leave Mindonne and never come back.¡±


    Karsen got up, an eager look of hunger still in his eyes. ¡°Will you do it, Kai?¡± he taunted in a vulpine tone. ¡°Or are you really just a spineless, Hintari whoreson?¡±


    Kai could feel his face swelling though nothing felt broken, and he rolled up to his hands and knees, trying to clear his head. His mother wasn¡¯t Hintari. She¡¯d been a Brintoshi soldier, but rather than argue the facts or throw another useless punch, he stood instead and brushed himself off. Then he surprised all present, including himself, by accepting the proposal.


    ¡°I¡¯ll touch the blasted core.¡± He scowled. ¡°And you¡¯ll owe me two pints, Roarke, and give my mole skin back. Deal?¡± He knew he was scrounging for forgotten tubers at this point, but he didn¡¯t see many other options. If he denied this opportunity, he¡¯d get a drubbing, then they¡¯d beat him back to town. His only bet would be to sneak in and find Winford or Jakodi to take his side of things.


    It was too risky.


    And besides, the dangers of a shivvered dungeon have to be exaggerated, he thought, attempting to justify his decision.


    So it was that late in the afternoon that Kai found himself walking in foul company, heading to a foul end at the end of a long and trying day. He couldn¡¯t fathom why, but Roarke¡¯s mood had brightened. The brute decided it was a fine time for banter, and he spoke at length about anything and everything that popped into his thick skull.


    The motley group marched away from town and up into the hills, neither north into the Atoli forest nor south toward the Mirin Swamps. The shivvered dungeon they¡¯d all heard tales about was less than five miles from town, tucked under the overhanging rock face of a mesa west of the village.


    Karsen led the way, as he seemed to be the only one who¡¯d actually seen the dungeon, with Roarke filling the otherwise-quiet trek with his boisterous and unnecessary commentary. At least that was Kai¡¯s opinion. Dunny had fallen to the back of the group into his usual position as a tag along, grateful to sink again into obscurity and be forgotten.


    ¡°And you know what she said to me then?¡± Without waiting for a response, Roarke continued his rant. ¡°She told me, in a tone that was plain as a page to read, that I¡¯d better come with her to fetch the milk. Now, as my da always says, if a maid tells you she needs help collecting her milk, the only right answer is ¡®right away ma¡¯am.¡¯ So course that¡¯s what I did.¡±


    The incline increased, earthy loam growing hard with stones as they staggered up the side of the hill. Karsen looked back, exasperated by his friend¡¯s endless boasting. ¡°Oh yeah? So you shivved Hines¡¯ youngest?¡± He snorted. ¡°And let me guess, she called your name out to Yugos as she finished twice?¡±


    Roarke replied, the injured tone of his voice rising an octave. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t exactly mean that I¡­¡±


    Karsen stopped to look back over his shoulder and cut him off. ¡°Did you shiv her or no? Else, and either way, maybe you can hold your tongue a minute. Save your wind for the hike.¡± For once, the big man listened. The only sound that disturbed the rest of their progress was their harsh rasping breaths.


    As they neared the top, Kai sensed a distinct air of reverence grow amongst their party, a response to some unseen force, as if they stood amidst the fervent prayers of a worshiping host.


    The ether in the air was thick enough to taste.


    Kai thought of the danger he was walking into and stared at the mole skin flapping over Karsen¡¯s broad back as he walked ahead. The woodsman had agreed to return the skin, should he prove himself. Trusting Karsen, however, didn''t seem wise.


    More than likely they''d come up with some excuse to take it anyhow, Kai mused, but somehow he couldn''t back down from his pledge. Despite the stories everyone told about broken dungeons with broken minds and the horrific things that happened near them, Kai would not turn back.


    The feeling of being watched had them all on edge; the threat of unseen predators lying in wait crept over the youths until they were all scanning the trees. To make matters worse, the sun was falling, and a chill breeze blew down Kai¡¯s neck.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Oh, why must every fear be accentuated at nightfall?


    ¡°Might we not turn back?¡± Dunny suggested sagely. ¡°Supper will be ready, and we can just give him his stupid skin. He needs it more, anyhow.¡±


    Kai gave the boy an appreciative look, but it was Karsen who spoke. ¡°No. He has more courage than all of us, remember. Probably has the blood of dragons in his veins,¡± the woodsman snorted. ¡°He will touch the shards of the Earth Core as he said. Or would you rather admit you''re a coward and head back to your shed to pack up whatever rags you hold dear?¡±


    Kai swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored the comment.


    Dunny¡¯s breath caught a moment later, and Kai looked up to see what had excited the boy. A darkness loomed below the overhanging shelf of the mesa. The mouth of a cave burrowed deep into the side of the hill, a crooked and gaping mouth.


    Karsen stopped and held out a hand. When he spoke, Kai could feel the grating cold of his ever-present anger. ¡°And there it is. The shivvered dungeon, though some call it the Dead Dungeon now.¡± He grinned cruelly. ¡°Not because it isn¡¯t alive, but because anything that goes inside is as good as dead. Not even crickets return to see the sun again.¡±


    Kai wanted nothing more than to return to Jakodi, to beg the old man to heal his wounds, see who in town would trade for a night¡¯s meal, and to hell with the blasted mole skin.


    But his wounded pride snarled in his chest like a feral dog and something else prodded him on. How many times had he wanted to peek inside this dungeon? It had fired his imagination ever since he¡¯d first heard mention of it in town. Kai had long daydreamed of searching the dungeon for treasure.


    The hostile eyes surrounding him judged him, daring him to justify their months of derisions and bullying. Roarke sneered and Dunny frowned, while Karsen stared at him patiently. It occurred to Kai that this was exactly why the man had led him here¡ªnot to see Kai enter the cave, but to see him fail to do so.


    Ignoring his better judgement, Kai cleared his throat and said aloud, ¡°Well, if I¡¯m to go in, then let me at least borrow your axe. You broke my weapon, and I would be twice foolish to enter without one.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Karsen shook his head. ¡°This is my father¡¯s and given on loan.¡±


    They all looked at Roarke, whose feathers visibly ruffled. The big man raised his hands palms up and shrugged. It wasn¡¯t as effective as he¡¯d hoped.


    Dunny croaked out, as polite as he could, ¡°Maybe Kai can borrow your sword, just for a moment?¡± When Roarke blustered at the absurdity of it, prepared to make any argument to keep the sword in its sheath at his hip, Dunny pressed him in a most clever way. ¡°It is the finest weapon we have with us. Might even be the finest in town!¡± he gushed. ¡°It would only be fair to lend him the blade.¡±


    The compliments pricked Roarke¡¯s ego and pride like darts from a bow. He drew the sword with as much pomp and ceremony as he could manage, nearly nicking Karsen¡¯s ear as he did so. ¡°You¡¯re right, Dunny, it is a fine sword. We can all take a good gander at its glory once more. But I¡¯ll be holding onto it. If anything goes wrong, Kai, I¡¯ll come in after you.¡±


    Kai sighed. He¡¯d figured they¡¯d refuse to accommodate him, but it was worth asking. It¡¯s not like I can use a blade to fight against the dungeon itself, he thought. And maybe there aren¡¯t any creatures inside. Still, perhaps a stick might do in a pinch.


    He looked around to find one for this purpose when Dunny stepped forward. ¡°Here. Use my dagger. Isn¡¯t much, but I bought it myself. So, if it goes missing, at least I won¡¯t be thumped for it,¡± the boy said and produced a crude, hand-length dagger.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a fool,¡± Karsen croaked. The older of the brothers tried to interfere physically, but Dunny gave him a surprisingly stern look. ¡°Fine, the blade¡¯s yours, Dunny, but don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn ya.¡±


    Kai took the dagger, and felt a rush of gratitude well up inside. This is the friend I¡¯d been hoping for all along. He has the wrong family and just a few years too young, but who am I to be choosy?


    He didn¡¯t know what to say, so he patted the boy on the shoulder and nodded gravely. Then, turning back to the dungeon, he gripped the dagger in his hand and felt just a little bit braver.


    A fell breeze blew back his hair, and goosebumps ran the length of his arms and down his legs. Kai stopped, the darkness of the cave making him pause, but when his eyes adjusted, he realized a subtle glow suffused the place, as if the dense ether in the air had become visible. Part of him had hoped that the need for a torch might suffice as a fair enough excuse to back out after a few more steps.


    Kai stopped and turned to look back to the group waiting for him. He coughed nervously, but before suggesting that he¡¯d proven his point, Karsen barked, ¡°Head on to the very back. They say the shivvered core lies at the cave¡¯s bottom. Don''t worry,¡± he sneered, ¡°you¡¯ll find it.¡±


    At the bottom? I can manage that, Kai encouraged himself, and pressed on.


    The first room was cut roughly from the mountain like a natural cave. Pillars of stone fell from the ceiling and a single path ran to the back of the cave where its ceiling tapered down to frame the foreboding shape of a solitary door. Slightly taller than it was wide, the opening gaped cold and black, bidding Kai enter.


    Kai stepped through into a second chamber and marveled at the series of etchings carved along the walls, the stonework that of a precise hand. The walls were smooth as a sheet of Winford¡¯s breakfast cake. A dancing filigree of climbing vines decorated the corners, and despite Kai¡¯s fear, he admired the craftmanship and artistry of the dungeon.


    The air was stale and a penetrating silence filled the space. A few piles of debris littered the corners, and black soot streaked the walls. There was a fire here, Kai realized. Someone had burnt out this chamber and everything that had once been inside. A wisp of sadness mingled with his fear, and he walked slowly into a third room through a short connecting hallway. He wondered about the dragon that must have once called this place home.


    Suddenly, the importance of proving himself to two men who would continue to despise him, no matter what he did, became distant and unimportant. It was replaced with a burning need to know his fate was greater than hunting squirrels and begging bread. This is what I¡¯ve been after! Why didn¡¯t I come sooner?


    He walked through the room, distantly noting an overturned wooden table, the wood wormy and rotting away. Chips of shattered pottery and broken stone were all else that remained within. Familiar black streaks marred one side of the room, but it appeared the blaze had left the table mostly unharmed. Only a few blisters curled its faded yellowed lacquer.


    At the back of this third chamber, Kai spied a spiral of stone stairs descending into the depths. For a moment, he was seized by an ancient memory or some fragment of the distant past, and it felt like he¡¯d walked here before. Thoughts of Kevir and the hundred dragons of legend flittered across his mind¡¯s eye as he took the first step down into the dungeon.


    Kai felt as brazen as any ancient hero until the heel of his boot slipped on the skeleton of a long-dead mouse, its powdered bones resting precariously on the edge of a step. His feet shot out from beneath him, and he fell hard on his backside, slipping down a few of the stairs. ¡°Twice-shivved cow!¡± Kai¡¯s frustrated shout echoed in the stairwell, and he winced, the snarl of his curse profane in this magical place.


    Dunny¡¯s voice called out from the distant entrance, ¡°You okay, Kai?¡±


    Kai stood and brushed himself off. Years of dust covered his pants like a coat of paint. He thought of calling back to the others, telling them he was fine, but the echoing curse had been bad enough.


    No, I¡¯ll just keep going, touch the blasted core, then leave, Kai repeated, until he once again felt courageous enough to forge onward.


    The stairs curled around several more times, taking him deeper into the dungeon, until he came to a landing where a pale-blue light spilled up onto the bottom of the stairs. Kai couldn¡¯t guess what magic created the pale light, but he wanted more than anything to know.


    The dungeon split three ways at the foot of the stairs, but the right and left-hand passages had collapsed, the elegant stone archways above them scorched black.Whatever fires had raged here had done more than a little damage.


    Straight ahead, the tunnel remained intact, continuing ever downward in a gentle slope. This path was lit with a brighter shade of blue, and Kai squinted as he trod forward.


    Down the corridor, a stone slab stood ajar, blocking the way. A crack a few inches wide allowed a beam of ethereal light through. Kai had no clue what an Earth Core looked like, but everything pointed to him heading in the right direction.


    He pushed at the stone and marveled as it turned easily on an unseen hinge.


    Then he saw it.


    Kai¡¯s breath hitched, his eyes going wide as he beheld the still-gleaming shards of the once-powerful entity just a few dozen feet away. Ether crowded the air, making it nearly opaque. He crept into the room, lowering the outstretched dagger, aware of how useless the weapon would be in the face of such power.


    At the end of the final room, cut from the bedrock of the mountain, fingers of stone curled up from the floor. The formation twisted into a point, on top of which rested a rocky chalice or a blossom made of stone.


    Within, rested the Earth Core.


    Its remains glowed a vibrant blue, as if ether itself had crystalized. Every fiber in Kai¡¯s soul raged against the devastation before his eyes. The most beautiful gem he could imagine, not much bigger than his fist but more majestic than the endless sea, had been smashed into countless fragments. No doubt the work of a mace or hammer, but all Kai could think of was how evil had been the hand that destroyed it.


    Kai stepped closer, and as he did so, a susurration, like the whisper of buried souls, drew him forward. Without conscious willing, his hand lifted and settled upon the broken core. He ran his fingers along the slivers of the broken gemstone. Dunny¡¯s dagger clattered to the ground, no longer important, as Kai stared into the gem.


    Then the fine edge of one fragment split his finger open, and a few drops of his blood dripped onto the stone. He flitched at the slight pain, but before he could withdraw his hand, a wave of blue light pulsed through the chamber and an endless tide of magic tore at his soul.


    Kai screamed, dust within the chamber swirling abound him as his hand clenched the broken heart of a mountain.


    Every muscle in his body howled with the joy and terror of the absolute power that gripped him. As the pain gathered to a torturous crescendo, the current of magic shifted. Suddenly, it felt as if the shards sucked his blood, his life force, his very soul from his body. All he could do was stand rigid and stare into the frigid blue of what had once been an Earth Core.


    An eternity later, Kai was released and he slumped to the ground, his thoughts sliding down into sleep¡¯s forgiving embrace.

 TGC2 Prologue: From the Top, First Lesson

    Imogen


    * * *


    Such a short time had passed since Kai and Rhona had healed her. Yet, here she was, summoning old amalgamations and playing host to a group of¡­ friends. For surely, Bancroft and his party could be considered friends by now.


    Even the horse seems to notice my presence when I deposit more grass or straw before him. Always nickers and bobs his head politely when I do so. No dull beast, that one.


    And Imogen considered herself happy, even despite the impending change that would have them all scrambling soon enough.


    Bancroft had been celebrating the digestive abilities of his champion, an act he seemed intent on performing as often as possible. The huge stone houndzard¡¯s belly already bulged from excess, and still he continued to ask for a little more of this and a little more of that.


    He¡¯s lucky he isn¡¯t trapped in that body forever, Imogen mused. Otherwise, he¡¯d end up fat like the hogs he so enjoys consuming.


    Having woken with a fractured mind, it had taken Imogen some time to realize she¡¯d also lost a good portion of her previous power. She¡¯d once been a high Viridian dungeon, level 2 or 3 for certain. Now, though, she could tell, by her reduced area of influence alone, that she¡¯d been diminished.


    Without other recourse, Imogen had sent out one of her two dungeon champions, a Frost Raven with an eight-foot wing span.


    So, even now, she watched the soldiers as they finished assembling their camp.


    They were preparing to enter the swamp proper, dive into itsmurky depthsand seek out her core as they¡¯d done so long ago.


    Yes, I have an obligation to tell them, Imogen reminded herself. But there¡¯s still some  time  remaining. Why would I interrupt them at such a time as this?


    While she observed the few hundred Brintoshi soldiers mount up and form orderly columns, she kept her eye on the two companions that gave her the most joy.


    Ducking beneath Rhona¡¯s kick, Kai rushed forward, bashing into the woman with his shoulder.


    Rhona gripped Kai around his waist, and, using his own momentum against him, threw the young dragon over her hip to the ground.


    Kai grunted as her full weight bore down on him, driving the air from his lungs.


    ¡°Focus, Kai. I try to teach you the Path of the Bleeding Tiger and you tackle me like a Brintoshi street rat?¡± Rhona asked, the tip of her nose just a few inches from Kai¡¯s.


    He shoved her off and rolled to his belly to stand back up for the hundredth time. ¡°I was just trying to use what small advantage I have, Rhona. If we were using weapons¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d cut out your throat in seconds flat,¡± Rhona said, cutting him off. ¡°And I¡¯d also lose access to my monk skills. I can¡¯t touch a sword, Kai. Let¡¯s just pretend they don¡¯t exist.¡±


    Kai nodded.


    They¡¯d been over this before.


    For a dragon, he is awfully stubborn, Imogen thought. Then again, it hasn¡¯t been long since he learned of his past. How long will it be until he comes to accept the full scope of his inheritance. After all, only a single Fundamental Dragon can call this world their home at a time. He¡¯s our best hope in the times to come.


    When Rhona first asked Kai if he would train under her, the young man had gladly accepted.


    Yet despite his commitment to improve, and the lofty dreams Imogen could see floating about his head like clouds, his appetite for abuse was beginning to show its limitations.


    Rhona dusted her clothes off and gestured with her hands for Kai to advance.


    He moaned but fell into the stance she¡¯d shown him anyhow. ¡°Last time, Rhona. I¡¯m getting hungry, and besides, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll learn fast enough to become effective any time soon.¡±


    ¡°No, you won¡¯t. But, Kai,w hat I am teaching you has a purpose, okay? Let¡¯s go one more round, and I¡¯ll show you what I mean.¡±


    Showing trust yet again, Kai began in Tiger Hides its Claws.


    It was a basic fighter¡¯s stance, hands held before the face, fingers relaxed, palms facing down. To Imogen, the posture was humorous.


    Rhona began the same sequence of attacks she¡¯d used before. A series of low to medium kicks, Kai dodged a few before adopting the second stance: Tiger Slashing Snake.


    Leaning forward, Kai let his upper body hang over his leading leg. His arms drooped as well, and when her next kick landed, Kai caught the limb and pulled it toward his body.


    For the first time since attempting the technique, Kai had managed to trap Rhona¡¯s leg!


    For an instant, he froze. Eyes bulging, he stared at Rhona as she bounced on her rear foot, waiting for him to act.


    ¡°Too slow!¡± she barked. Then she snatched Kai¡¯s forearm with both hands and fell to the ground, pulling Kai toward her.


    As Kai¡¯s balance was shattered, she tossed him to the ground, using the leg he¡¯d trapped to throw him in the air. Kai rolled a few feet before breaking into a fit of laughter.


    He¡¯s certainly improved. Though, I do fear he is correct. At this rate, he won¡¯t be able to match Rhona with her own arts for years to come, Imogen thought as she analyzed the two fighters.


    ¡°So close!¡± he managed between gasps.


    ¡°My arse! You trapped my shivving leg, Kai! But you didn¡¯t take me down, sweep my standing leg, or strike me in any number of possible ways,¡± she chastised. ¡°Don¡¯t freeze up next time. Besides, what I really was hoping for was¡ª¡±


    ¡°For me to use Pouncing in Tall Grass,¡± Kai finished.


    It was Rhona¡¯s turn to laugh. ¡°Yes. Yes, that would have been the right move.¡±


    The two sat on the cold stone floor of the special training room for a time, catching their breath.


    Imogen had made the room upon request the day they¡¯d arrived with Ban¡¯s core in tow. Rhona had wanted a private space to train Kai, so Imogen had gone all out.


    The room attached to the main chamber where Imogen¡¯s core sat. It included a tiny water fountain in the corner, and sconces along all four walls where torches burned brightly. All that was missing, in Imogen¡¯s estimation at least, was a bit more decoration and perhaps a few racks for weaponry.


    Allowing a little of the frustration that clouded Kai¡¯s core to enter his voice, he questioned his new trainer. ¡°Why, Rhona? Please, you¡¯ve shown me a total of five stances. You¡¯ve shown me a handful of strikes, kicks, and throws. But why do you seem so intent on this sequence. I know there is something more you¡¯re not telling me.¡±


    Rhona blew a strand of hair from her face.


    Her cheeks were flushed, her lips plump and bright as berries.


    She wears her beauty as naturally as a meadow does bees and wildflowers , Imogen thought, admiring the young woman¡¯s vitality.


    Rhona¡¯s expression was solemn when she answered Kai. ¡°I¡¯m not sure where our travels will take us, Kai. We¡¯re about to cross the border. Where will you and Ban go? Where will I go? I need to teach you what I can or you might find yourself in real danger when you next ascend.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The monk¡¯s logic seemed to disturb Kai. He shifted nervously when he replied. ¡°What do you mean? I thought we¡¯d formed a guild. Ban wants to explore the Sunken Keep. Won¡¯t you come with us?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to, Kai. I really would. But that isn¡¯t important now. What I¡¯m trying to teach you is a foundation. Let me ask this of you. What do you know of the Emerald ascension?¡±


    Kai¡¯s face scrunched in concentration. ¡°I could tell you how much Progression it takes to ascend to Emerald. I think there¡¯s even a scroll that mentions how many Attribute Points I will gain. That¡¯s about all though. Why?¡±


    Rhona locked eyes with Kai. ¡°Emerald is a pivotal advancement. It¡¯s been called many names over the years. The Jade Gauntlet is the one I first learned. It is a dangerous ascension, Kai, and if you lack the proper techniques and knowledge, your core might collapse or rupture entirely during the process. The Brintoshi use mages to assist the soldiers ascending to Emerald. You don¡¯t have that luxury, and if you fail, you will either be dead or crippled when it¡¯s over.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound very promising,¡± Kai responded dismally.


    Smiling, Rhona patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Andag has seen it fit to provide you with your own monk. A few still remember the old ways. I was lucky enough to study with one.¡±


    Kai spent a few moments letting this news settle in. Imogen reflected how sad it was that Bancroft hadn¡¯t warned him of such a truth. Yet the Earth Core was as fractured as she was. How many of our memories are gone, never to return again? she wondered.


    They all had their limitations.


    ¡°How does the Path of the Bleeding Tiger help me with Emerald ascension,¡± Kai asked pragmatically.


    ¡°Come, stand up once more, Kai. Don¡¯t worry. No more fighting, okay? That was just for fun.¡±


    Without complaint, Kai found his feet again and faced her.


    Then she stood beside him, falling into the first stance. ¡°Just watch, okay?¡±


    Rhona moved between the five forms , slowly and fluidly. Tiger Hides its Claws, Tiger Slashing Snake, Pouncing in Tall Grass, Retreating on the Furious Wind, and finally Tiger¡¯s Hide Bleeds. The postures were distinct, and each difficult to master. But when Rhona completed the five stances, Imogen saw clearly how she¡¯d moved in a circuit, a pattern.


    After she finished Tiger¡¯s Hide Bleeds, she spun into Tiger Hides its Claws once more.


    The circuit was complete.


    ¡°Did you see that? The five stances are one form in my path. It is the foundation on top of which all else stands. If you don¡¯t master the five, you cannot master anything that follows.¡±


    ¡°That makes a lot of sense,¡± Kai admitted. ¡°What does it have to do with ascension though?¡±


    Rhona smiled at him. Her eyes shone, patient and alive.


    Taking Kai by the hand, she led him to the corner of their training room. A few handfuls of loose soil had fallen from the freshly carved ceiling, leaving a layer of dust over the dark stone.


    Imogen nearly cleared up the debris until she realized the young woman intended to use it somehow.


    Rhona stooped and drew a pattern in the dust. Pointing to the swooping lines, she explained. ¡°If you could see the five stances from above, you would notice they form a pattern. It looks something like this, but of course, it is far from exact.¡±


    Imogen looked at the scrawled image. It reminded her at once of a flower blooming, swirls and arcing lines that made up a five-pronged pattern.


    Rhona pointed at the center of the image. ¡°This represents your core, Kai. As you complete the five stances, your body moves in a similar pattern. There are many names for this pattern, but the translation into Brintoshi is Mandala. Do you remember what you had to do with your core for the first ascension?¡±


    Kai nodded. ¡°How could I forget the time Briga herself had instructed me how to bend my core into the figure of a snake consuming its own tail,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°And when I ascended to Golden, I had to bend that back into a circle again, though it became smaller, denser, and deeper.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Rhona said, glancing back to the image in the dust. ¡°And when you ascend to Emerald, you will need to establish a Mandala with your core. It is complex, painful andwildly challenging. The Brintoshi have a simplified Mandala they use for all soldiers, and their mages imprint their cores with the pattern. Fewer soldiers die that way, but their cores are also more limited because of that. The old monks teach that to ascend perfectly to Emerald, you must learn and master your own distinct pattern. No two are alike.¡±


    Imogen¡¯s mind spun as faded or broken memories threatened to overwhelm her. She could vaguely recall her own master telling her something like this. He¡¯d called it the Jade Foundation, hadn¡¯t he? The way in which one prepared the core for greater heights of ascension.


    The Earth Core¡¯s line of thought brought her around to considering the young woman before her. Rhona¡¯s dedication to her purpose and cause were commendable, but Imogen had to wonder how much Rhona knew of her own past. Surely, she must feel the splinter still marring her core.


    When the dragon and monk had healed her core, Imogen had been subjected to a flash of insight. She¡¯d asked Bancroft if he too had experienced the same when Kai had healed him. When Bancroft had denied it, Imogen came to the belief that it was Rhona¡¯s participation in the act that had made the difference.


    In a fraction of a second, Imogen had seen the linear progression of both Kai¡¯s and Rhona¡¯s lives. Oddly, much of the vision took place in the past.


    Imogen could describe the golden skin and proud eyes of Kai¡¯s dragon father. She could recall the smooth motions of his mother practicing swordplay in the dragon¡¯s vast dungeon. The two had stolen a few moments of time to call their own during the end of a bloody war.


    Rhona¡¯s past had been just as enlightening.


    Imogen focused more on her father¡¯s odd injury more than Rhona¡¯s painful past. A sliver, just a fragment of an Earth Core jammed in his palm. And yet, it had changed Drystan¡¯s destiny and that of his daughter as well.


    The Accolade Core Sworn made more sense in the light of Imogen¡¯s discovery.


    And though Imogen knew her friends would be leaving soon, and her own life soon to be severed, she chose not to tell Rhona or Kai. I can leave meddling to the gods, she figured. They are always so willing to do so anyhow.


    The implications of Rhona¡¯s lesson seemed to slowly dawn on Kai. He studied the pattern, nodding to himself and muttering under his breath. At last, he came to a conclusion. ¡°So the five forms you taught me are only an approximation. I will still need to discover my own Mandala?¡±


    Rhona nodded. ¡°Yes. Having a firm grasp on the five forms, however, is the best way to start. Now, ready to work on Crystal Mind?¡±


    Rather than answer, he sat down and folded his legs as she¡¯d instructed him. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±


    Rhona took up position across from him, and the two began the second round of their training.


    Crystal Mind was but one of many mental forms Rhona had discussed. No matter how much Kai begged, though, she¡¯d insisted the others weren¡¯t important for now.


    Imogen imagined herself sitting alongside Kai and Rhona. She couldn¡¯t close her eyes, but she did follow along as Rhona spoke in a soft voice.


    ¡°First empty your mind of all clutter,¡± the monk said, and Imogen did just that.


    Imogen¡¯s concerns about the Vermillion Guard, the defenses of her dungeon, and the rapidly approaching end to her life drifted away one at a time.


    Her mind was so vast, she could feel the others doing the same. The tension in Kai¡¯s and Rhona¡¯s muscles faded as they dropped deeper and deeper into the mental technique.


    When at last Imogen¡¯s mind had become an empty space, she began to construct the walls of Crystal Mind.


    Five sheets of crystal formed a five-sided pillar around her inner mind.


    Imogen sat in the center, and when the fifth sheet of crystal fell into place, her perspective shifted.


    Suddenly, it was as if she was staring down on the pillar. She could make out the five-sided shape, could see her burning core beneath it all. Though Imogen stared down on the vast entirety of her dungeon, she knew Kai was observing the same in his own mind, and Rhona in hers as well.


    Rhona¡¯s voice broke the stillness around them. ¡°The Crystal Mind allows you to focus your thoughts, clear the ether in your core of confusion, and tap into your courage and determination. Concerning the Emerald ascension, though, this technique lets you focus in so you can see the fiery depths of your core. Pull away, Kai. Look at your core from far above. Tell me what you see?¡±


    Imogen followed along, pulling further away until she could see the five-sided pillar standing amid the burning circle of her core. Further and further, Imogen removed her perspective until she saw a crackling field around her core.


    Nodes of power and tiny sparks of ether shimmered across the empty expanse.


    Then Rhona spoke again. ¡°Can you see a pattern? I discovered my own Mandala last spring. I can see the pattern my core needs to adopt when I next ascend. Can you?¡±


    Imogen had already given up the exercise. She would never ascend again, not in this lifetime. To that extent, she¡¯d taken liberties to preserve what aspects of her core and memories she could. Bancroft might very well argue, but her mind had been fixed. She only hoped her plan might succeed.


    Shifting her observations to Kai, Imogen watched him as he struggled to master Crystal Mind.


    ¡°No,¡± Kai admitted at last. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t see anything.¡±


    Rhona¡¯s huge green eyes were staring into his. ¡°It took me six months, Kai. Six months, and I practiced over an hour each day. Don¡¯t expect to get it right away. Be patient.¡±


    He nodded, then held out his hands to her.


    Gripping her palms, Kai pulled himself up to his feet, and she rose along with him. ¡°What about dinner, my lady? Have you any plans? I hear the local cook is famous.¡±


    She held out her elbow toward him. ¡°Only if you accompany me,¡± she said in a mock noble accent. ¡°I would be so frightened to find myself alone in such a place. How often do you think this dungeon is cleaned?¡±


    Then it was Kai¡¯s raucous laugh that echoed through the hall as they walked toward the core room.


    Imogen wanted to scoff at such a remark, but she sensed the humor in Rhona¡¯s voice.


    Besides, Imogen felt confident her dungeon was as accommodating as it could be.


    The smell of roast boar hung in the air, testament to the many meals Bancroft had demanded.


    The houndzard champion eyed the cooking meat with what looked like a mixture of greed and discomfort. It would do him well to learn the limitations of his new body, Imogen wanted to tell him. Though in the days to come, I am sure he will do just that.


    As Kai and Rhona returned to the core room, they casually greeted Honor and Ban . They sat and began to enjoy the vittles Imogen had provided, all the while unaware of how she wrapped them all in the embrace of her presence.


    She marked the passage of too many soldiers from the unerring eyes of a Frost Raven. The bird sat in a tree some miles off, observing every move the Brintoshi made.


    Imogen returned to flitting about her dungeon¡¯s core room, enjoying the emotions rising up from her fleshy companions like colored smoke. And she guided the hand of the massive golem tending the fire, doing her best to ensure everyone had a satisfying meal.


    Despite the rapidly approaching changes Imogen anticipated, she knew this moment was as precious and rare as an Earth Core.


    With this in mind, she settled down to enjoy what little life remained to her.

 TGC2 Chapter 1: Seed Before Tree

    Ban


    ¡°How in Anvar does a creature so foul-looking taste like manna from the heavens?¡± Ban exclaimed, sinking his champion¡¯s formidable teeth into his third swine of the evening. He ignored the queasy look Kai was so rudely sending his way.


    Rhona slammed her cup on the table nearby and offered her own wisdom on the matter. ¡°Might be, that swine are pure of heart. Foul of face, sure, but to taste this good, they must be shivving saints!¡±


    Imogen sat curled up in a heap of frosted fur. She¡¯d quite impressively reforged her champion, and now occupied the body of an ice wolf. It was as tall as Ban¡¯s own stone houndzard, but what it lacked in bulk, it made up in grace and speed.


    She¡¯d already finished her own meal long ago, but was kind enough to keep the conversation lively. In my own experience, few things taste better than jadeite. It is a rare gem stone from Kaltan. Once, my dragon went abroad and returned with a trove of such delights. I tasted spices, metals, minerals and gem stones from every part of Anvar, some even from distant Pintea! Nothing surpasses the pure bliss of sampling jadeite.


    Licking his champion¡¯s jowls, Ban fought the wave of sleepiness that threatened to overtake him. It was a most peculiar sensation, one he¡¯d never felt so keenly.


    While in his gargat champion¡¯s body, he could always retreat back to his dungeon where his mind thrummed with endless energy. But now, with his core removed and sitting idly in a sack in Kai¡¯s baggage, he couldn¡¯t enjoy the luxury of boundless energy. Perhaps it is a symptom of not being surrounded by my own dungeon, he assumed, forcing his thoughts to remain private.


    Ever since having been linked to Kai, Rhonaand Imogen, nearly all sense of the word privacy had been pushe d to its logical limits. He and Imogen had an easier time of it though, and with practice, so too would their fleshy companions.


    Ban yawned and stretched his houndzard body out on the soft grass Imogen had grown from them. They¡¯d taken a meal together, a penultimate meal Ban supposed, before they were forced to retreat.


    Considering what Imogen had said kept him aloft for a time. A world full of exotic things to consume; such prospects were any Earth Core¡¯s dream.


    ¡°Calling it a night then, Ban?¡± Kai asked with just a touch of amusement in his tone.


    Ban grumbled, lolling to his side to better accommodate his excess. I am wide awake, Kai. Nothing to gain in making fun.


    Rhona laughed, and Ban could hear her shift in her seat. ¡°If that¡¯s what wide awake looks like, I¡¯m a bleeding fool. It is getting late though. Sleep sounds rather enticing.¡±


    Imogen was kind enough to absorb the food and mess.


    Having the remains of the swine¡¯s carcass removed from sight and smell made Ban feel a good deal more comfortable. In fact, why not enjoy a bit of rest while I can? he thought. I deserve it more than those loafers. Riding on my back all the way, and only a brief thank you when we arrived back.


    The depths of Imogen¡¯s dungeon faded away, and Ban tumbled in the vortex of sleep. It felt a little like the madness he¡¯d endured when he was shivvered and useless, but he was beginning to find it quite charming.


    Ban dreamed of eating his way to the heart of a great mountain, finding treasure and wonders there beyond description.


    He¡¯d just consumed the bones of a terrific beast when someone screamed in his mind.


    They¡¯ve arrived! Wake up, everyone! Imogen warned, her usual soft voice booming. The soldiers have reached the edge of my influence at last!


    Ban and his companions bolted upright from various positions of sleep. He noticed Rhona reaching for a sword at her hip that wasn¡¯t there, and Kai rolled to the side and clutched his glaive. Good. My dragon is developing some sense after all.


    ¡°How long?¡± Kai asked, rising to his feet. ¡°Are we in danger yet?¡±


    No, but it¡¯s time to retreat. I¡¯ve already prepared a tunnel that leads up to the surface heading toward the Hintari border. I¡¯m going to send out a welcoming party, Imogen said grimly. They won¡¯t come near without having to pay.


    Ban blinked his huge reptilian eyes, confused despite the straightforward actions he would have to take himself. Kai and Rhona were scuttling about like cave crabs, both packing up their bags and preparing to retreat. Honor chewed at a lump of grass. He was, insofar as any horse can be, ready to claim the day.


    But something didn¡¯t settle right with Ban.


    Imogen, why bother with sending out minions to fight? Surely, setting a few traps for the soldiers is enough. You won¡¯t be able to control any of your minions when you¡¯re removed from the dungeon after all.


    Imogen¡¯s champion stared blankly, and Ban knew her mind was racing throughout her dungeon. Still, after a moment, she replied in a somber tone.


    But Imogen! Ban protested, What of you? Will you not come as well?


    No, Bancroft. I will live, and if necessary, die with my dungeon¡ªfor as long as I am able. Nothing short of resurrecting my dragon could persuade me. Besides, who else will slow the progress of the Brintoshi army?


    Kai and Rhona froze and turned to the ice wolf sitting nearby.


    The body of Ban¡¯s champion twitched with a sudden onslaught of anxiety. He felt trapped in this body, and his emotions were being compounded by the physiology of this blasted beast!


    He forced himself to remain calm, and attempted to reason with Imogen. But have you had ample time to restore yourself? Will your champion, as strong as he is and flanked by golems, be enough to defend yourself? Even as strong as you are, how many could you hope to deny?


    The dungeon dismissed his worries. He could tell by her tone she¡¯d already decided her course of action long before this moment. Worry about your own, Ban. I have chosen to stay, and already, my chambers are filling with minions. These invaders are potent, but they will not pass easily. Help your companions understand and guide them with all the wisdom your Yorick bestowed upon you.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Finally, the rage and fear in Ban¡¯s adopted body became too much. He roared and tore his talons through the fresh turf. No! I¡¯ll not leave you, Imogen. We¡¯ve only just woken a single Earth Core, and¡­ and I am proud to call her friend. You¡¯re coming with us!


    A few dozen ice wolves formed all around them, each three-hundred-pound brutes with daggers for teeth, capable of bringing down a horse.


    As the beasts swarmed together and boundup the chambers toward her dungeon entrance, Imogen replied to Ban¡¯s entreaty. I won¡¯t. This is not your choice to make, Bancroft. But I have some balm to ease your heart. This is my last gift to your guild. Take it and plant it wisely.


    When her words faded from his mind, a bright spark of light began to form in the center of the turf. Soon, it took shape. A perfect sphere crystal formed, the size of a human¡¯s fist. Inside, green and blue ether whorled.


    Kai walked forward and stooped to inspect the item. The young man asked,  What is this, Imogen, and how can a bauble make leaving you behind any less painful? I¡¯d never assume to deny your will, but I¡¯m with Ban. We don¡¯t want to leave you, Imogen.


    It isn¡¯t a bauble. It is a fragment of my self. I¡¯ve made this Soul Sphere in the hopes that it will mollify my passing somewhat. With time and enough ether, Ban has the power to integrate the Soul Sphere into his own core.


    None of Ban¡¯s frustration diminished, but he found himself staring in wonder at the shining object before him. He examined it, but felt he couldn¡¯t understand how it was made. It¡¯s design was infinitely complex.


    He shook his reptilian head to clear his emotions. Imogen! I would certainly still rather you come along. But¡­ how is this possible? Yorick never mentioned that Earth Core s could reproduce!


    Imogen responded with the softest tone she¡¯d ever adopted. Ban noticed Kai and Rhona listening as well, their faces intent, their bodies still. Yet, he felt certain she was speaking to Ban directly.


    I will not speak further on the subject of where I am and am not going. Should you be foolish enough to attempt to remove my core, I will protect myself. Please, let this be the last of it. She paused, perhaps waiting for another complaint to rise up from her friends.


    She finished by answering Ban¡¯s other question. The Soul Sphere is a well kept secret, and has a great many limitations. It isn¡¯t a form of reproduction, not in the strict sense. This sphere will never become life on its own. Rather, it contains a small portion of my spirit, my soul if you will, as well as some of my memories. When you find yourself in possession of a dungeon again someday, Ban, you will need to integrate it.


    And how might I do that, Ban asked in a subdued tone.


    Just absorb it as you would any other material. The Soul Sphere will resist integration, and only with time and patience will you be able to access all that I have placed here.


    The dungeon¡¯s champion strode over to Ban and walked close enough that the two beasts¡¯ noses were almost touching. And Ban, I expect you to name it, teach it, and protect it. Will you do this for me?


    Ban¡¯s heart twisted in his overgrown lizard chest. He felt like shouting or weeping, but instead, he did as he knew any friend must.


    He assented.


    I promise, Imogen. I will do as you ask. Is there nothing I can do to persuade you though? I feel we have only just begun our friendship.


    Imogen¡¯s champion moved forward, pressing against Ban¡¯s scaly face with her own. We shall have all the time we wish, even if not in this lifetime.


    The great ice wolf turned away, facing the rear of the core room. A split in the wall opened up, revealing a tunnel that led up and away from the invading force. It is time you all left, she announced, the heaviness of authority coating her words. I will be distracted in preparation, so let this be our farewell. Good luck on your journeys.


    Rhona cleared her throat. Wait. I guess this is okay, us taking some piece of you instead of the whole thing. It isn¡¯t my business. But what of the bunyips? Won¡¯t they be in danger as well?


    Imogen bowed her wolf¡¯s head, acknowledging Rhona¡¯s inquiry. Those poor creatures would provide little help. No doubt their lives would be best lived out in the mountains where they ought to have remained. I¡¯ve already opened a second tunnel for them that leads north instead of east. They¡¯ll be in the Zargan Mountains this very evening.


    Ban watched Kai bow to the wolf, whispering out a thank you. The young man¡¯s eyes were shining, and Ban felt proud his dragon could be moved by such noble emotions.


    Rhona placed a hand on the wolf¡¯s forehead and gave her own farewell. ¡°Thank you for caring, Imogen. You¡¯ve a good heart, and no worries. We¡¯ll protect the sphere.¡±


    Then Kai was throwing a saddle on Ban¡¯s back, Rhona pulling herself up onto Honor. And all Ban could do was wait. Too soon to be called decent, the group was charging up the tunnel and racing toward safety.


    He knew Imogen was busy, had so many things to do. There was some small sliver of hope. The forces coming against her were many, but she was a strong Earth Core. Maybe she would live, and he could travel to visit with her in the future with Kai.


    The thought tasted like a lie.


    Ban growled, bounding up a seemingly endless tunnel away from a good and honest friend.


    Reluctantly, he opened his mind to her. I will miss you, Imogen. I only wish we could have had much more time together. We could have created such wonders.


    I know, Bancroft. I know. But do not overly despair. Even now, my soul feels diminished. Look inside the Soul Sphere, not to understand it, but to see what is inside. I think you¡¯ll feel a good deal better.


    Ban ground his teeth and pushed himself even harder than before. I will. Goodbye, Imogen.


    Goodbye, Bancroft.


    And that was the last he heard of Imogen the dungeon.


    Honor and Ban¡¯s stone houndzard ran for an hour until the gentle slope emerged into the gloom of the Mirin Swamps. The moon was full, providing an even sheen of silver light.


    More trees grew here, the blight somehow weaker, the soil a bit firmer.


    Ban followed behind the brave horse galloping toward Hintar. The rhythmic splash of Honor¡¯s hooves lulled Ban¡¯s mind, and he receded into himself.


    Kai¡¯s emotions drifted to Ban¡¯s consciousness. The dragon was pained by leaving Imogen as well, but most of his concern was directed at Ban. The boy needn¡¯t worry, he thought to himself privately. I¡¯ve already lost my first master. What is the loss of another friend?


    The bitter sentiment rang hollow in his heart, but he didn¡¯t rightly care for truth at this time.


    Moved by desperation more than hope, Ban focused on the burning sphere of light that rested beside his core.


    It was like staring into the night sky if it could fit in the palm of your hand. He marveled at its pristine construction, wondering how on earth Imogen had achieved such a feat. Then he recalled her request.


    So, rather than consider the item¡¯s craftsmanship, he looked inside of it.


    Though he continued to charge through the muddy swamp, a portion of Ban¡¯s mind split off. Suddenly, he was one with Imogen, could search around her dungeon and witness her completing her many tasks.


    Ban watched another troop of fifty Ice Wolves bound away from the dungeon¡¯s entrance. He saw the bunyips hobbling along a tiny corridor, excitedly skipping along.


    The Soul Sphere allowed him to see every aspect of her dungeon, but it was more than that too. Not a mere looking glass, the sphere was itself a scale from the wyvern¡¯s hide.


    Acting instinctively , Ban probed deeper into the Soul Sphere, wondering what creature this might be. It wasn¡¯t precisely Imogen, no. It was something else entirely. At the center of the swirling gyre of Earth and Water ether, he discovered something more resilient. He pushed his mind, summoning his substantial will to enhance his efforts.


    He strained for several long moments. At last, he relinquished his efforts. Perhaps it must be planted under a proper mountain first, he considered. Then, on a whim, he pushed a tendril of ether from his core into the Soul Sphere.


    The sphere absorbed the energy hungrily, so Ban increased the flow. His own reserves were small, but there was little harm in giving a little away.


    Once more, Ban pushed his consciousness into the core of the Soul Sphere.


    His champion stumbled, making Kai mutter a curse. The dragon asked for an explanation, but Ban was too enthralled to respond.


    For despite the effort it took, Ban had succeeded in witnessing a single memory stored in the Soul Sphere.

 TGC2 Chapter 2: A Name for It

    Kai


    By the time Ban had responded, Rhona and Kai called an official break.


    Honor took some water and hay, and Kai stretched out his legs, staying close to his Earth Core¡¯s champion in case he needed some assistance.


    They¡¯d been traveling at a good pace, but Kai had nearly lost his seat as the huge houndzard stumbled.


    Now, Ban simply wouldn¡¯t respond. His champion just stood there, its huge lungs pulling in air. But the creature¡¯s eyes were glossy and unfocused, and none of Kai¡¯s questions had been answered.


    Rhona approached after staking Honor to graze in a patch of grass. ¡°What happened exactly? We were moving at a good pace, then all I heard was your blasphemous curse.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think he was distracted, thinking of Imogen or maybe talking with her. Then all of a sudden, his legs stumbled and I almost got a taste of swamp mud,¡± Kai explained. ¡°I think he is fine, but we¡¯ve only just saved one Earth Core. The fact that we are now leaving it to be destroyed must be hard on him. Can we rest for a while ? We should have a little time, considering Imogen¡¯s¡­ battle plan.¡±


    ¡°I think we are good here until the sun rises. Then we should make our way to the border. We arebut a few miles off. Still, I¡¯d rather cross under the light of day,¡± Rhona finished, her eyes searching to the east.


    Kai nodded then offered to take first watch. They ate a light meal first, and without the benefit of a fire, but the food helped settle them down.


    Nothing quite like waking in the middle of the night and running away for your life to stir up the spirits, Kai thought. Then he chuckled, realizing the sentiment would have normally come from Ban. His brief time with the Earth Core had done much to color and shape his sense of humor.


    Without anything else pressing, Kai figured he¡¯d stick close to his friend in case he emerged from his fugue.


    Kai leaned against the beast¡¯s thick foreleg to rest. We are here for you, Ban. Whenever you¡¯re ready to wake back up.


    Kai tried to relax. His heart was hammering, though, and his mind raced. What are we going to do once we get to Hintar? Will we be able to find any friends there? Or are we just running out the oven door and into the coals?


    Of course, none of his questions could be answered.


    Such outcomes were as frustrating as they were predictable.


    Kai scrambled up and retrieved one of their latest treasures. When Imogen had awarded them for their service to her, she¡¯d included not only a handful of spell scales, but also a stack of skill books and old texts.


    Rhona and Kai had already gone through the skill books. Most didn¡¯t seem very useful (all were related to trade and craft rather than combat) but would be saved to consider again at a later date.


    The books, however, had already been helpful. One in particular, labeled Gaolor¡¯s Grotto: A Brief History of Hintar¡¯s Sunken Keep.


    Kai flipped it open and read, lighting a small wad of the flammable putty Rhona used to boil tea. She¡¯d given him a nice tutorial on their one peaceful night in Imogen¡¯s dungeon.


    He did as she¡¯d instructed. Balling up a wad the size of a pea, Kai smashed it onto the center of his breastplate. Then he struck a flint stick over it.


    It lit up like a tiny candle on his chest. The flame was just bright enough to cover the page in golden light.


    Kai had already read the introduction of the book. It discussed the local terrain and why the Sunken Keep had been a necessary project for the Hintari. The castle in the heart of Hintar was well-secured, but one noble house had found a more specific need.


    The Surtir family was the richest and most powerful in the land. Yet they had been forced to share their power, to allow the other noble families as much sway over Hintar and the capital as they had. So, a few hundred years ago, the Surtir patriarch set out in search for a secret base of power.


    By the time construction had started, the secret was out.


    Considering the layout of the keep, however, it hardly mattered.


    In the southeastern portion of the Zargan Mountains, the high passes converged around a particularly steep-faced canyon. Within, three streams met, forming a substantial river.


    The Surtir family used the force of the streams themselves to delve deeper into the soft soil of the canyon.


    Few details were included, but the dragons most closely allied with the Surtir had lent their strength. With a combination of ingenuity and magic, the Sunken Keep had been constructed.


    * * *


    ¡°In ten short years, the incredible construction project came to a close. Yet no fanfare was raised. The competing families were offended at the lack of an invite. Any such improvement on a family¡¯s holdings traditionally called for a celebration.


    When no such celebration was held, the most ambitious of the Hintari nobles sent out spies to discover the secrets that were locked away in the depths of the Sunken Keep.


    The few who returned mentioned only that the three streams now fell down a deep, cylindrical chasm so perfectly formed only magic could explain it. The keep itself was a humble tower no taller than fifty feet.


    It was made of stone and mortar, like any other structure, but it sat at the bottom of the deep pit. The only entrance was fiercely guarded by a score of dragons and the Surtir forces.¡±


    * * *


    Kai closed his eyes and imagined what such a structure might look like. How the falling water wouldn¡¯t erode the keep¡¯s foundation boggled him.


    Perhaps they¡¯ve made underground chambers. Perhaps¡­ That¡¯s it! I am willing to bet anything that they built the keep with the help of an Earth Core. Such a feat of construction would be simple for Ban given enough time.


    Feeling quite pleased with himself, Kai continued to read.


    * * *


    ¡°For hundreds of years, the Surtir held their position of superiority. The Sunken Keep likewise remained impregnable. Yet when the war against the dragon kingdom began, old alliances crumbled and new ones were formed.


    The Surtir were betrayed along with the dragons. Every prince, lady, and child of the Surtir were put to the sword or driven out of the land.


    Predictably, lacking the protection that held its treasures locked away so many years, the Sunken Keep was raided. A trove of gold, jewels, and magical items was taken away to line the purses of the new lords of Hintar.¡±


    * * *


    The book closed with a muffled thump. Kai¡¯s bit of flame was beginning to gutter out, and rather than renew it, he snuffed it.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Seems like a sad end to a miraculous story, Kai considered. Still, that¡¯s the way of history.


    He stored the book away, then thought of their other great treasure, the one he¡¯d been too hesitant to use yet. Within the small chest, Kai found the faintly glowing spell scales.


    Glancing over, Kai saw Rhona had at last finished with a series of stretches she¡¯d been performing, and was curled up on her bedroll.


    Kai shrugged and made his way back over to Ban¡¯s champion.


    The huge houndzard still stood rigid, its body almost seeming lifeless if not for the rhythmic intake of breath. He ran his hand across the scaled hide of the creature, sending a few supportive thoughts to his friend.


    Then he sat back down, crossed his legs, and focused.


    Closing his eyes, he pictured his core churning around within him. The brilliant gold of his condensed ether burned as bright as ever. He felt warmed by its presence, as if the fire in his belly were warming his entire body. I suppose it is though. That must be what it¡¯s for. Like my own personal furnace.


    Letting his observation pass, Kai brought up his Etheric Interface and selected the Spells tab.


    A list of his current spells populated, and he skimmed them over quickly.


    * * *


    Flame Dart- A spell of Yugos¡¯ Fire, the Flame Dart condenses ether into a fiery projectile that causes minor damage. Spell damage may be increased by channeling more ether. Cost: 5 AE. Casting Time: Instant. Charged Spell Cost: Up to a maximum of 20 AE. Charging spell takes 2 seconds for each additional AE.


    * * *


    Shadow Shroud - A spell of Angut¡¯s Abyss, the Shadow Shroud summons a veil of concealing abyss ether. Visibility of all party-members within the shroud is greatly decreased. Sounds produced within the shroud are moderately dampened. Visual concealment is reduced when spell is used in broad daylight or without the addition of cover. Cost: 10 AE. Casting Time: Instant. Duration: 10 minutes.


    * * *


    Restoring Tide - A spell of Briga¡¯s Water, the Restoring Tide calls upon the healing nature of the ocean¡¯s endless tides. Spell causes minor healing of injuries and a modest restoration of stamina and mental clarity. Spell also stops minor bleeding and may stifle the onset of infection as well. More severe ailments like poison, fever, and serious infection are unaffected. Cost: 20 AE. Casting Time: 30 seconds.


    * * *


    Confounded Core - A spell of Niama¡¯s Soul, the Confounded Core manipulates the ethereal flow within a target enemy¡¯s core. When the spell takes hold, one or more effects may result: Confusion, a mental state which causes an enemy to attack one of their own; Confounded, an inhibition of ether that prevents the casting of spells or activation of skills. Cost: 20 AE. Casting Time: 15 seconds. Duration: 5 minutes.


    * * *


    Kai still couldn¡¯t believe his luck. Ban had handed him some incredibly useful spells, and he¡¯d only just begun to learn how to maximize their potential.


    Flame Dart was a spell Kai relied upon heavily, but all of them were equal in his eyes. If he had to choose a single one to keep, he¡¯d go with Restoring Tide. Being able to heal an ally in need was a frightfully enticing boon. His Accolade Briga¡¯s Ally made the spell even more appealing as it cut the one minute casting time in half.


    He opened his palm and examined the five spell scales Imogen had granted him.


    * * *


    Flame Spear - A spell of Yugos¡¯ Fire, the Flame Spear acts as a modified and improved version of Flame Dart. The spell condenses ether into a fiery projectile that causes moderate damage. Spell damage may be increased by channeling more ether. Cost: 10 AE. Casting Time: Instant. Charged Spell Cost: Up to a maximum of 50 AE. Charging spell takes 3 seconds for each additional AE.


    * * *


    Before Kai explored his other options, he came to a decision on this one. Neither Ban nor Imogen had known what would happen should Kai choose to upgrade his Flame Dart.


    Without much guidance, but needing to improve himself for the days ahead, Kai took a risk. He mentally prompted Activate Spell Scale.


    His spell sites lit up in his mind¡¯s eye, and he found the one occupied by Flame Dart. Kai selected Flame Spear, and the place on his forearm burned like it had the first time.


    A few moments later, Kai examined his new marking. It resembled the first but for a long streak of crimson down the center of the scale. If only I had a bit of space to practice this one. It would be lovely.


    Kai glanced at his hand filled with scales. Then his eyes bulged. Briga¡¯s sweet breath! I still have five!


    Searching through them, he found the scale for Flame Dart.


    He wanted to shout in triumph, but settled for a grin. His original spell hadn¡¯t been wasted at all. It had been replaced.


    Then his eye caught on a minor detail he hadn¡¯t noticed before. The scale had a thin crack down its center, and its fiery surface appeared somewhat dim. If he was forced to make an assumption, it would be that the spell scales could be traded out with one another, but that each use strained the scale.


    Eventually, they¡¯d most likely be ruined.


    Now, if only I could find another half dragon friend to give this to. It would make a fine gift.


    The other four scales were just as amazing as Flame Spear.


    * * *


    Barbed Barkskin - A spell of Andag¡¯s Earth, Barbed Barkskin organizes ether to form crystalline structures over the body of the caster or chosen ally. The ether-forged second skin acts to both protect the user as well as propel their movements. Movement speed slightly increased. All slashing and piercing damage moderately reduced. Enemies who attack and make contact receive minor damage from the barbed effect. Cost: 25 AE. Casting Time: 10 seconds. Duration: 5 minutes.


    * * *


    Breeze Step - A spell of Shu¡¯s Air, Breeze Step allows a caster to glide upon a current of ethereal air. While not a true teleportation spell, Breeze Step nonetheless acts as a means to navigate a battleground with great speed and efficiency. Spell conveys caster up to 70 feet in any direction. Cost: 10 AE. Casting Time: Instant.


    * * *


    Soul Projection - A spell of Niama¡¯s Soul, Soul Projection is a unique ability that allows the caster to project their soul outside of their physical body. Traveling in such a way is possible by envisioning the person or place the caster wishes to travel to. No physical or ethereal effects may be used when caster¡¯s soul is projected, but some forms of communication are possible. Cost: 30 AE. Casting Time: Instant. Duration: until ether expires. An ethereal drain of 5 AE for every 10 seconds is applied while spell is active.


    * * *


    Shimmering Shield Wall - A spell of Anlil¡¯s Light, Shimmering Shield Wall projects a large protective shield of ether. The spell can be guided into nearly any position or shape, but is limited to a single wall with a maximum height of ten feet and maximum width of twenty feet. Cost: 40 AE. Casting Time: 2 minutes. Duration: 10 minutes.


    * * *


    Kai had already read each a dozen times. He wanted to select them all, yet he was terrified of making some unknown mistake.


    Ban couldn¡¯t remember nearly enough information regarding how dragons used spells, and Imogen had been likewise uncertain.


    Shrugging his shoulders, Kai selected Soul Projection. It burned into place, making a patch of his golden skin glimmer a faint purple. He rubbed it with his fingers, smiling at his tiny accomplishment.


    Nothing weird happened, so why not apply them all?


    Diving back into his EI once more, Kai opened the tab for Spells.


    The Activate Spell Scale tab had a line through its center. It didn¡¯t seem like a valid selection anymore, and when he tried anyhow, a message popped up in his vision.


    * * *


    All Available Spell Scales Sites are Allocated. Additional Spells available upon Emerald ascension¡­


    * * *


    ¡°Blast it,¡± Kai hissed under his breath. ¡°There I go, choosing a spell at random, and now I¡¯m stuck with it.¡±


    The thought occurred to him that he could replace this scale with another, but he paused before doing so. Not only did he want to avoid damaging his small store of spell scales, but he also didn¡¯t know if the other choices would be better at this moment.


    The barkskin could be useful in a battle. The same could be said about Breeze Step. Yet using Soul Projection might very well save them in the upcoming days should they find the need to spy on their pursuers.


    He could always experiment again in the future.


    Sighing, Kai nearly brought up his personal information. Too often, he¡¯d been summoning his Character Status, staring at his Progression, thinking about what his mind and body might feel like should he continue to ascend.


    What more can I find? What else is waiting for me to explore, to fight, to claim for my own? Knowing his ambitions would keep him occupied until he woke Rhona for her shift, Kai stood up and returned his treasure to Ban¡¯s baggage.


    He sat down again and at last felt the surging energy of his mind and core slowing.


    Kai needed rest as much as Rhona, but he couldn¡¯t neglect his watch. Clearing his thoughts one at a time, and forcing his breathing into a deeper rhythm, however, gave his body some reprieve.


    He recalled the steps of Crystal Mind, and still cognizant of his surrounding, started the mental technique. Kai focused, breathing long and steady as he tried to envision the pattern his core would soon adopt.


    Then, shattering the peace he¡¯d worked so hard to cultivate, Ban¡¯s voice shouted wordlessly in his mind.


    The champion also stirred, its leg twitching and jolting Kai back into wakefulness.


    I know it must be an awful time to say so, and Kai, you really must forgive me. But I¡¯ve simply had the most wonderful experience!


    Kai heard Rhona cuss under her breath, sitting up startled.


    Honor nickered, sensing the disruption of the once-peaceful camp.


    In the most polite voice he could summon, Kai asked, ¡°What is it, Ban? And can it not wait till morning?¡±


    The Earth Core answered at once. Of course it can¡¯t, Kai! Otherwise I would have done so. Anyhow, I¡¯ve just come from within Imogen¡¯s Soul Sphere. It¡¯s an amazing piece of craftsmanship, and I can¡¯t wait to integrate it fully.


    ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got to say, Ban? Cause we¡¯re not exactly sitting around a fire and sharing stories,¡± Rhona growled.


    Ban laughed through their shared mental link, sounding both amused and a little embarrassed. I¡¯m sorry, Rhona. I¡¯ll go to sleep. I just thought you all might want to know that I have learned the design for summoning a proper door knob. And to think, I thought such knowledge lost forever. Isn¡¯t that simply marvelous?

 TGC2 Chapter 3: Friendly, Fallen

    Rhona


    After Ban had shouted in everyone¡¯s mind, any chance at decent sleep had vanished.


    Rhona was like most soldiers. She could fall asleep on command, but after being rudely awakened, her body would be too riddled with nervous energy to relax any time soon.


    So while Kai drifted back to sleep, and Ban curled up around him in his ponderous houndzard body, Rhona went through her baggage and sorted things out. In the past, she¡¯d have been sharpening her sword. Without such an excuse, she spent an hour oiling her saddle, organizing their food stuffs, and preparing for the day to come.


    Running through the list of items in her mind, she recalled her latest acquisition. She glanced at the bracelet on her wrist for the hundredth time since receiving it.


    Blue and white stones wrapped around her wrist in an unbroken chain. Each stone was a perfect sphere but for the union between one sphere and another where they flattened out to accommodate the other stones.


    Rhona was clueless as to how the bracelet functioned.


    When she¡¯d first put it on, it had shrunk down to fit her wrist. Now, if it wasn¡¯t for the weight of the bracelet, she¡¯d most likely forget it existed.


    It simply fit perfectly.


    What it did, though, was something Rhona wouldn¡¯t soon forget. Having the ability to form a ward to protect herself when she had no armor, no shield, and no weapon¡­ that was a boon worthy of a queen.


    Rhona sighed and glanced around at the slumbering camp site. She¡¯d done some good stretches when they¡¯d stopped and her body still felt limber. Perhaps a bit of exercise then.


    Remembering her kind friend from so long ago, Rhona decided to run through a few of the movements she¡¯d learned from Palben.


    Rhona began by clearing her mind of any distractions, and only when the canvas was clean did she begin.


    The first set of movements were graceful and fluid, moving from one pose to another. Each time she transitioned, she would breathe out. Solidifying that pose, she inhaled as deep as she could. Then she¡¯d move again.


    After half an hour, her body was thrumming with heat, sweat burning away in the cool air.


    Rhona craned her head up at the sky. Morning was soon approaching but not nearly quick enough for her tastes. Might as well get them up a bit early though, she thought. No sense in losing our lead.


    But when she looked over to Kai cuddled up with a bovine-sized lizard dog, deep in sleep and carefree, she couldn¡¯t make herself do it.


    Breakfast then! I¡¯ll make a fine breakfast, and when it¡¯s ready, I¡¯ll wake them both.


    So, with renewed spirits, Rhona set about gathering a few nearly dry sticks. She pulled free her tinder kit, and managed to make a tiny fire. It was half smoke, but she hadn¡¯t expected otherwise.


    Then she rummaged through the food Imogen had sent them off with.


    Filling a small pot with some water, Rhona poured in a few handfuls of grainto soften. Then she removed a large piece of smoked fish. Breaking the fish into pieces, she stirred it into her makeshift stew.


    The rest was a touch of salt and a handful of savory leaves she¡¯d kept dry in her saddle since finding it on the way from Creshon.


    Soon, the water was bubbling away and a fine aroma settled over the camp.


    Honor stirred first, so she brought him a few handfuls of oats and some water.


    Then, with a satisfied smile on her face, Rhona strode over to Kai and gave him the tip of her boot. ¡°Oi! You planning to sleep all day?¡±


    Kai groaned and rolled onto his back. ¡°Why? It¡¯s barely light out. Maybe another hour or so, huh?¡±


    Rhona laughed, enjoying herself a bit too much. Having had her own sleep shattered a thousand times in the call of duty made her less than sympathetic. ¡°Fine then. Honor and I will get going, and you two can sleep here till the Vermillion guard catches up.¡±


    By then, Ban¡¯s champion had stirred. She¡¯s right, Kai. Imogen may slow them down, but we can¡¯t be sure if some were sent on ahead. Best we ignore our aches and pains and get on with the day.


    Slowly, Kai pulled himself up and packed away his sleeping gear.


    Ban, perhaps stirred by hunger, excused himself and trampedaway into the swamp.


    Kai and Rhona ate the stew she¡¯d made and watched the sun rise. The trees of the swamp emerged from the gloom all about, and when they could see clearly, Rhona was surprised at how the terrain had already begun to change.


    The black rot that poisoned the Mirin Swamps was fading.


    Now, most of the trees were flush with green leaves. The ground was still damp and puddles pocked the earth in all directions, but they were getting close to leaving this waste behind.


    I, for one, won¡¯t miss one shivving speck of it.


    Ban returned shortly after with a gleam in his houndzard¡¯s eye. I managed to kill and eat two of those swine that live about. Delicious! I¡¯m quite certain that a bit of roasting might have improved the flavor, but I won¡¯t be complaining any time soon.


    Looking between Kai and Rhona, the dungeon champion belched before asking, Are we close to heading off? I¡¯m quite excited to see what Hintar has in store for us.


    Suddenly, a flash of emotion crashed into Rhona¡¯s mind. She braced herself but couldn¡¯t quite keep her balance. In a practiced effort, Rhona managed to collapse over her knees, both hands pressed to the ground.


    Distantly, she could hear Kai grunting and Ban¡¯s champion roaring. Before she could say a thing, she was seeing through a different set of eyes. Eyes that flicked about a cavernous dungeon at the speed of thought itself.


    * * *


    Plate-clad soldiers, shields held forward and spears jutting between, shoved against a line of golems. Each of the minions was as strong as a horse, but the Vermillion Guard were known for their high ascension ranks. Besides, they outnumbered the minions at this point.


    Rhona¡¯s gaze shifted, and in a flash, she scanned the upper tunnels of Imogen¡¯s dungeon. All around, the shattered bodies of her minions lay broken, random silver and gold coins scattered around them feeling like nothing more than an insult.


    What else will they take from me? What else can I give? Imogen¡¯s thoughts rang through Rhona¡¯s mind, and with each word, a pang of remorse.


    The elegant bodies of ice wolves were strewn between heaps of rubble from her golems.


    Up near the lake, dozens of eel crocs lay dead, their corpses pale from blood loss.


    Among her own losses, too few of the soldiers could be seen. Rhona could sense how eagerly Imogen had fought for her life, but the Vermillion Guard had healers in their ranks as well. This had made for a one-sided conflict.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Then Rhona was staring at the bristling shield wall once more. In lightning flashes, Rhona read the cores of the men before her.


    An entire rank of Golden 2 soldiers glared at her. Their yellow cores scorched Rhona¡¯s eyes as she faced them down. At the corners of the formation, and directly behind, others stood who burned brighter. Golden 3 corporals and shield sergeants flared to either side, their own dense cores seeming like forge fires.


    The colors blended together into a garish display of raw power.


    Beyond the common soldiers, two lieutenants flanked a colonel. Both lieutenants were Emerald 1 as was the colonel. Oddly, Rhona noted the man in charge of the prestigious Vermillion Guard appeared far too young for his power, the lines on his face nearly as soft as her own.


    Yet none seemed to consider him weak or question the order he issued next.


    ¡°Split Shield!¡± he bellowed, and the two lieutenants and the shield sergeants echoed soon after.


    The interlocked shields defending the soldiers broken in two, opening wide enough to allow skills to be triggered from the second line of soldiers.


    Four of the elites launched Earth attacks. Ripples broke the even expanse of the dungeon floor, tearing up shards of dense stone that hovered a moment in the air. A moment later, the rock shards exploded as one, blasting apart the golems.


    With chilling efficiency, the shield slammed shut, and the soldiers advanced.


    A final line of golems was summoned, and the hulking champion strode forward.


    Imogen had done what she could to prepare for this last moment. The commander of this force was experienced, though. The group spotted the floor trap and wove around it. Then they engaged the golems from a distance, blunting their assault with the shield wall while a contingent of burly men wielding war hammers flanked them.


    The golems were busted apart with terrifying efficiency.


    Finally, Imogen¡¯s champion roared. It used the skills it had at its disposal, breaking apart the formation of troops. A few of the men were killed instantly as huge spikes were torn up from the dungeon floor, impaling the soldiers.


    Her champion held up its hands and a ball of icy ether formed between them. It turned its focus on the center of the soldiers, but before it could release the spell, the mighty golem was struck in the chest by a counter spell.


    Rhona had no idea what she was seeing, but in a way, it did seem a little like Kai¡¯s confusion spell. A sphere of black and purple energy splashed over the golem¡¯s chest and torso. The liquid power seeped into its ice and stone body, turning portions of the creature black.


    Regardless of what the skill was called, the effect was close enough.


    Imogen¡¯s champion froze in its tracks. The ether burst in its hands and dissipated into the air.


    Then the soldiers fell on it, pounding its body apart with fell hammer strikes.


    The sound of collapsing stone announced the champion¡¯s death.


    All fell quiet.


    Rhona felt a spike of panic as a single man walked through the crowd of soldiers. He cried out in a voice as sharp as a whip. ¡°Cover the exit! Third platoon, send two squads ahead! See if that tunnel leads to the surface or if this shivving Earth Core blocked the way.¡±


    He made his way to the pool in the center of Imogen¡¯s core room. Rhona felt her perspective flip a half dozen times as Imogen inspected the man from every angle.


    He wore fine armor though the sword at his hip remained sheathed. His face was pale, and his eyes as green as Rhona¡¯s. She¡¯d have called him handsome but for the cold greed that filled his gaze.


    This man was hungry.


    He coveted the power Imogen held in her core.


    In a voice only Imogen could hear, he spoke to her. ¡°It¡¯s such a pleasure to meet you. Normally, I¡¯d ask if you might consider lending your strength to the king¡¯s mighty empire. But I think we both know what I¡¯m really here for.¡±


    Imogen¡¯s gaze shifted, focusing on the strange gauntlet that linked up into his vambrace and pauldron. Rhona noticed something was off about the armor. Lines of ether were running up from the steel glove, as if the equipment were somehow powered.


    The man leapt over the pool of water in a display of strength and power beyond Rhona¡¯s own abilities. How high is this man¡¯s ascension? she wondered. Or is it this device that makes him stronger?


    As if to answer her personally, the man held up his gauntleted hand and held it above the surface of Imogen¡¯s glowing core. ¡°Really, you are lending your strength to the Brintoshi. I serve the king, and now you will serve my needs. Thank you for your sacrifice.¡±


    Panic shot through Imogen¡¯s mind as the man¡¯s gauntlet finally touched the surface of her core. The man¡¯s vile grin filled Rhona¡¯s mind. Then he faltered, a look of confusion passing over his features. ¡°How many minds are here? How is this possible?¡± he asked, eyes searching the depths of the stone for answers.


    He ground his teeth, somehow sensing Rhona¡¯s connection to Imogen, but not understanding it. ¡°No matter. I have what I¡¯ve come for.¡±


    Suddenly, a piercing pain cut into the Earth Core, stripping away the protective barriers that held her ether in place.


    Then a crack resounded, and ether gushed from Imogen¡¯s core into the man¡¯s hand. It filled the stones embedded in the gauntlet¡¯s palm. The power bled into the vambrace and into the pauldron. Finally, Rhona stared into the man¡¯s eyes as they began to glow with the pale blue of pure ether.


    Terror, cold and unyielding, clutched at her heart as her mind tore apart.


    Rhona came to, sweat pouring from her face. Her fingers had sunken into the mud like claws, and her body was cramped and shaking.


    She looked up into Kai¡¯s face, and they both knew their friend had died.


    * * *


    * * *


    * * *


    There wasn¡¯t any good way of knowing if the Vermillion Guard were closing in on them. Rhona had tossed the idea about in her head for some time.


    They could no longer communicate with Imogen.


    They¡¯d all witnessed her chilling end.


    Rhona¡¯s stomach knotted up in the too-familiar sensation of losing a comrade. After calming down for a time, Ban had admitted he could no longer peer into her dungeon even with Soul Sphere¡¯s help.


    Still, Rhona knew if she were the commander, and had confidence in her strength, she¡¯d sent a small contingent to scout ahead.


    ¡°I have a new spell,¡± Kai had offered at last. ¡°It allows me to project my soul out of my body. I should be able to spy for us without being caught or harmed at least. I¡¯m really not certain how it all works.¡±


    Rhona had mulled it over. Eventually, she¡¯d urged the group onward instead of scouting for their position. If there were soldiers coming up behind them, they¡¯d have at least a little notice, given the squelching earth of the forest.


    Risking the use of an untested spell at a time like this felt unwarranted.


    She trotted ahead on Honor¡¯s back, keeping her eyes focused.


    A rough trail had begun to form and the soil was firmer now. She knew they were capable of a much faster pace. Honor could most likely gallop at top speed and not risk injury, but she wasn¡¯t worried about the road.


    It was what and who they might meet at the border.


    As she considered the possibility of running into Hintari resistance, Rhona recalled a conversation she¡¯d had not so long ago.


    The herbalist half-gnome back in Mindonne had given her two vials of Briga¡¯s Tears.


    As quick as she dared, Rhona reined in Honor and wheeled around.


    Kai and Ban adjusted their course and stopped beside her. Kai¡¯s eyebrows asked the silent question that was most likely on his mind.


    Rhona leapt down from Honor¡¯s back and dove into her pack. ¡°I forgot something. Gods, might have cost us our lives!¡±


    She bit her lip, wincing at the reference to death. The loss of Imogen was all too soon.


    When she found the vials, she ran over and showed them to Kai. ¡°I doubt Honor will be recognized as a Brintoshi war horse. He¡¯s never had that build, and Ban¡¯s champion will stick out no matter what. The vials will help the two of us, however. Here, take one.¡±


    ¡°Slow down, Rhona. What in Andag¡¯s green land are you talking about?¡± Kai pressed.


    ¡°In Mindonne I met with the herbalist to stock up on medicines and the like. She gave me these. Called ¡®em Briga¡¯s Tears. They infuse the body with ether which helps to defend against magical attacks. But, as a side-effect, they make you glow!¡±


    Kai nodded pragmatically and took the vial from her hand.


    It was Ban who needed more explanation. Pray tell, friend, why that should be considered a benefit to our party now?


    ¡°Because the Hintari might recognize it as a sign that we are not Brintoshi. That¡¯s what she claimed at least, and I¡¯ll be damned if I don¡¯t give it a shot.¡± Rhona drank down her vial and nudged Kai on the shoulder. ¡°Your turn, Kai!¡±


    The liquid tingled as it went down her throat, flashing between cold and hot like some chemicals do. The sensation transformed into an itch that covered her body.


    She spared a glance at Kai who was scratching his neck and looking a little uncomfortable. More important, however, was the discovery that her riding companion had a faint glow about his face.


    Seeing her in return, Kai gave a reluctant smile and a thumbs up.


    Into Eastern Hintar we go, and shimmering like a moon moth to boot, she mused. Why not go for the authentic experience though?


    An expression her father used to say made her smile despite the association. She could even hear his gruff voice and see her mother¡¯s shocked expression. Eat, drink, and sleep with the locals. Best way to experience the soldier¡¯s life.


    If only the man could see her now.


    Despite the heavy mood, she allowed herself a thread of satisfaction. She¡¯d been an obedient and loyal daughter for many years. Since turning away from her father¡¯s path, however, Rhona found she was delighted by acts of rebellion.


    The trail ahead wound underneath a sprawling canopy of trees. These were vibrant and strong, their trunks massive. How long they might have lived here, she could not know. Rhona simply appreciated them. Grandfathers, she thought. One and all, they¡¯re grandfathers of this forest.


    A twig cracking a few paces away made her reach for a sword that wasn¡¯t there.


    She cursed and put a heel in Honor¡¯s right flank. They turned and faced the tall man standing a dozen paces away.


    Rhona froze, taking in the newcomer¡¯s appearance in a blink.


    He wore clothes dyed a dozen colors of the forest. A smile rested on his lips, and she saw his eyes flick to a position behind her. He isn¡¯t alone. We are surrounded. And I led us into this mess.


    She sighed, knowing there was little else they might have done, and held up her hands.


    The man¡¯s bow was drawn, the glinting steel arrowhead threatening. ¡°Hold, friends. What business do you have in Hintar?¡±

 TGC2 moved to KU

    For anyone who is still reading this, I am sorry my original plans of posting everything changed. This wasn''t a ploy but came down to two weeks of unexpected revision that pushed my deadline way off. The book is for free on KU, and because of that, I''ll be pulling down the rest of the chapters except the first 10% of the book as per Amazon''s ToS.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    IF you want the book and don''t have KU, you can either buy it (come on!) or pm me. I can send out a few ebook copies to those who really need them.


    Hope you all have great holidays and see you in 2021!!!


    TJ

 UPDATES YO!!!!! Sample Chapter Remnant Mage: The Dual System Apocalypse

    In the dusty cellar of a mage tower standing upon Misthearth¡¯s southern shore, a young man named Marek read the pages of an old yet popular novel. The only thing unkempt about him was his hair, tousled by a restless hand.


    The reading had been especially trying that day.


    Lord Tirega led the charge, five hundred Casteran cavalry at his back. Their beasts most bold churned up the bountiful turf, eager for Ardean blood.


    Though many had disbanded and fled to seek sanctuary in Stillwood Forest, the young Lord Calleus refused to cow. Inspiring courage in his comrades few¡­


    Marek shuddered, holding the page with a finger. ¡°Will you give us a break, Timlus?¡± he muttered. ¡°Every time a scribe calls themselves an author, they fall in love with the sound of their own voice. Just tell the damn story!¡±


    An urge to toss the novel aside nearly claimed him. Inwardly, he reminded himself that A River Crimson held value. Poorly written as it was, the facts included were backed by several sources. Leaning forward, he adjusted the wick of the oil lamp. For a moment, he delighted in the space he¡¯d claimed. Perhaps his favorite place in the world, the corner of the tower¡¯s cellar was quiet. Tucked away as he was, Marek felt safe here¡­ and so very alone.


    Marek read on with renewed determination. He managed to finish another two paragraphs that made his skin crawl. Both were extended metaphors, one to describe the might and greed of the invading force, the other to portray Ardean courage.


    Relief flooded him when he found the section he¡¯d been hunting for.


    Half a day fate granted to wise Calleus. Not an hour did he spend idle. Mounting the hill, Calleus did survey the silver snaking river. ¡°Fetch the spades!¡± he cried, and his ragged band obeyed. Five hours to divert the brook, two more to flood the plain.


    ¡°Stand with me!¡± Calleus shouted, his voice brazen and clear. ¡°Stand against the tyrant and his host of thieves! Stand for Ardea, and let it be their wives that grieve!¡±


    That familiar longing filled Marek¡¯s heart. Acts of courage always stirred something in him he¡¯d never given in to. With his Constitution, Marek wasn¡¯t exactly the type to heft a spear. To do so would only invite pain and disappointment. Marek suppressed his stoked ambitions, furrowed his brow, and skimmed on. More focused than ever, he isolated the facts he came across.


    Two ranks of ten macemen forming the front. Two groups of twenty spearmen on the flanks. Fifty archers at the rear.


    ¡°Loose!¡± Calleus commanded. ¡°Let the River of Grass run red!¡±


    For every knight that rode to slay them, a dozen arrows rained.


    Marek let his mind wander for a moment. Witnessing the events in the sanctuary of his mind was always his favorite part of reading. For some reason, he could imagine the sight of battle with absolute clarity. Almost as if he¡¯d stood on a muddy field himself in the distant past.


    What would it sound like? he wondered. Then, suddenly, he could hear a chorus of tinny thwacks, heavy iron bodkins plunging through tempered steel.


    Goosebumps covered his arms.


    He read the end of the chapter then, no longer bothered by the author¡¯s flamboyant style. It was the story he needed, and the historical facts buried in the novel all waited to be plucked out like gemstones.


    Seeking to end a pointless war, Calleus charged the hampered foe. Macemen cracked down, shattering bronze helms of a foreign court.


    The spearmen thrust from either side, hungry like the jaws of a bear. Men oppressed oft crave redemption, and that day it was served rare.


    In less than an hour, it was done. The War of Thorns would end with the tyrant Tirega.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The fiend was cut down by Calleus¡¯ stern blade, surrender given, and at last peace was made.


    Marek closed the book. Sighing in satisfaction, he sat up and stretched his back. As sore as his spine was, Marek considered the evening well spent.


    Briefly, he pictured himself hefting a mace and charging a knight on horseback. Even if the horse was stuck in a pool of muddy water, the act seemed reckless. No matter how many times he thought of it, Marek couldn¡¯t quite imagine himself as a soldier of the line.


    He wasn¡¯t like Mags. For some reason, his best friend yearned for battle. She¡¯d been seeking it out her entire life. There was another role Marek did yearn for, though. One that inspired him as much as it disturbed him.


    Using a river as a weapon, he thought. If that isn¡¯t a stroke of genius, I don¡¯t know what is. Outnumbered and without cavalry, he still managed to win. Wonder what I would have done in his place.


    As strange as his previous vision had been, Marek had no trouble picturing himself at the head of an army, sword held aloft. His voice commanding legions. His will dictating the fates of men.


    Marek chuckled and set the book aside. ¡°Ridiculous,¡± he chastised himself. ¡°A commander needs to be strong enough to hold a damn sword in the first place. Let¡¯s be realistic.¡±


    He leaned back, finding a cozy nook between the old pillows Rauld had stored here long ago. Then he closed his eyes and completed his evening¡¯s study.


    As a Sigilist, many would expect him to level his Class by crafting sigils. He would have preferred it that way. Yet Marek wasn¡¯t so fortunate. His uncle had encouraged him to take a Common Skill, one that Scholars and Administrators used. Intuit wasn¡¯t flashy by any means. When it was used, none but the user could tell anything had happened.


    Despite all this, Marek was proud of the Ability. It had become a lens with which to view the world. A way of interpreting information and analyzing situations or problems effectively.


    Sure, he could more easily make a living with Imbue, the most basic Skill of his craft. It gave the ability to augment an object temporarily with a given Attribute. Had he gone that route, however, Marek would have bottlenecked indefinitely at Level 1. Lacking as his mana was, the young man couldn¡¯t cast Imbue even a single time.


    As bitter as his path had been, he¡¯d made progress over the years. Through long hours of study, and by helping his uncle, Marek had risen to Level 8 Sigilist. Two more would allow him to unlock his second Class Skill. It was slow going. In fact, he¡¯d been at his current level for well over a year. He felt on the cusp of a breakthrough, though, and he hoped tonight might be enough.


    Marek quieted his mind. He relaxed his shoulders and filtered out all sensations. Then he grasped the knowledge he¡¯d scrounged in his reading. The clipped historical accounts of the battle as well as the relevant section of the novel. Details most would overlook, Marek relished. Each fragment was valuable.


    He ran a few of these through his mind to freshen the knowledge, reciting them from memory.


    The Ardean mace was a notable addition in the Kingdom¡¯s military history. Due to the evolution of the Brawler Class during the Quelling Rebellion, the newly enhanced Maceman Class became much more capable of wielding its chosen weapons. This competence led to a lengthening of the shaft, made possible by the strength of ironwood, a resource once common in Northern Ardea¡­


    And on he went.


    Marek knew if he had to write the information down, the wording wouldn¡¯t be exact. Yet he¡¯d studied the varied weaponry of the Five Kingdoms obsessively. The material never ceased to fascinate him.


    He ran through several other notations he¡¯d read regarding the equipment most likely worn during the famous battle: The weight of the plate armor the Casterans wore as well as that which clad the chests and flanks of their warhorses. The length and heft of the lances they carried. Oppositely, the specifications of spears as well as the draw weight and range of the Ardean Longbow.


    When he felt all the threads of information come together, he could picture what the battle would have been like. Only then did he introduce a query¡ªa ¡°problem,¡± as he liked to call them. Such was the method in which he most commonly triggered his Skill to activate.


    Would the Ardeans have succeeded if they¡¯d not been able to flood the field?


    Simple, sure, but those were the questions that often led to the best results. Intuit tingled at the back of his skull, a thread running down his spine. A brief sensation of cold stirred in Marek¡¯s belly. A portion of his personal mana drained from his Core to fuel the Skill. Then, in a flash of images, Marek knew his answer.


    Arrows smashing through armor. Too few perish, leaving hundreds of cavalry afield. The Knights trigger Charge, the Skill simple but terribly effective, speeding up their mounts and creating a spear of energy around the tip of each lance. Ardean Spearmen and Macemen tighten their line. They activate their own skills, Rampage and Inspired Blow chief among them.


    In moments, the Ardean line was broken. Men skewered like squirrels and trampled under iron-shod hooves.


    Marek cut off the stream of images. A shiver ran through him. They were more like visions. Graphic ones.


    When he¡¯d recovered, he threw a second query at his Skill. This time, he considered whether or not the spearmen forming the front line might make a difference. This time, more Casterans died in the initial charge, but the battle ended even quicker than before.


    Marek tried twice more, adjusting variables. Only the second proved interesting. He¡¯d been curious if the rate of flow of the river might change the results more dramatically. Surprisingly, a faster river slowed the irrigation, leaving them unable to finish their task in time.


    He tucked away his insights, more out of habit than necessity. Each attempt drew power from his reserves. After the fourth, his hands were trembling.


    ¡°That¡¯s it for the night,¡± he muttered as he rose on unsteady legs.


    He wished he could see how much progress he¡¯d made toward leveling his Class. His efforts had counted; that alone was his consolation. ¡°Tomorrow it is, then,¡± he said, holding onto optimism like a shield.


    A creak of wood interrupted his wandering thoughts. Slow steps descended the stairs into the cellar. Then an ancient voice, both kind and familiar, filled the cellar. ¡°Marek? Did you nod off again, or is your nose still trapped between the pages?¡±