《GRAYSTONE VOCATIA: A MURDER OF SKY-ELVES. [HIGH FANTASY PROGRESSION; MULTI-SYSTEM SCI-FI]》 CHAPTER 1- LEAH: A RIVER OF PEBBLES.
The pain came at Leah Cheretesha like a battering ram, but she avoided its gaze, must avoid its gaze, because if she did not, the people now sat like Kings above a commoner all around the beige, hexagonal hall, ready to exercise their right to judge her for something they were too weak to do themselves, would use it too in their malice, in their hubris, in their embittered process of eliminating someone they deemed unworthy. The top rank novitiate avoided its gaze but she did not avoid their gaze; those below her who saw a way up a rung on the ladder of school politics. She looked them all in the eye, the glutton Teresria, the gray-haired Lenodrius, even the ten year old prodigy, Cassia. Three among ten of the most vicious, vindictive, and ingenious brats the Realms of Oshveperthe would call leaders one day. She gazed up at the fourth. One among the blue pebbles, but as powerful as an average [city.prince]. Leah¡¯s equal in all but the Arts she¡¯d learned before journeying to this educational hellscape. A rival like no other with more reason to rid them of her than anyone else in the slumbering room, because if she managed to get a unanimous vote for expulsion here and now, the top spot they both shared all of a sudden became a whole lot more lighter. The [Geomancer] student, Mackenzie Goldenblade. A red droplet ran down Leah¡¯s cheek but her gaze did not waver. ¡°Are you sure you want to do this now, Cheretesha,¡± the Blue Pebble bleated with a grin. ¡°Go home, rest for the week. Maybe have that cut checked out, make sure you don¡¯t go feral because of it.¡± She considered going feral now, dashing across the room and giving the fool cuts of her own. Instead, Leah took in a breath before saying, ¡°I¡¯m good, Macy. Nothing like an act of kindnessto start the day.¡± ¡°Kindness. You call what you did to my brother, kindness?¡± A voice from behind her asked, the calmness in it betraying any notion of its speaker sparing any love for a ¡®brother¡¯ he hadn¡¯t even known before the day had started, courtesy of both students being sired by the most promiscuous [Sky-elf] this side of the Goldbladed Mountains, neigh the entirety of Oshveperthe. Leah turned to look at him, fifth in their little meritocratic student council of backstabbers, the Half-Elven Darunayus. ¡°Considering what the embarrassment was about to do, to his own novice, to the treatise? How could I not, Daru?¡± ¡°You should have Informed the instructors, any instructor close by, instead of jumping into the fray like a [Hero] of Old,¡± The Seventh, a [Faerie] from the Northern Continent of Ula¡¯Temvhea, squeaked out. Granted, they were actually an aspiring Scholar, and like their mother, would probably come to lead the Harubridge Teaching Guild in time, so their grievance was most likely a sincere one. Leah sighed, ¡°If I did that Cross, the [Prince] would be dead,¡± she said, turning to Daru, ¡°your brother, who you definitelycare for, would have turned into a scapegoat, or worse,¡± she eyed her one true enemy next, ¡°their would be war among the Oshveperthians once again, a war your mountains might not survive this time round,¡± she turned back to the [Faerie]. ¡°And your school¡¯s reputation, your mother¡¯s reputation would have never recovered from being the origin of the avoided misdeed. I did what any of you should do in my place. If you disagree, then maybe you don¡¯t deserve to sit up there, to be instruments of [Oshvepertha].¡± They all instinctively kissed their thumbs and raised them in the air, in honor of the dormant [Soul.System]. All of the presiding six looked convinced, all but Daru. Not that they needed to be, they came in to this meeting with a desire, and it was not a philanthropic one. On the other hand, if they expelled her, and she appealed to someone more powerful, someone above their parent¡¯s stations, like the [pirate.queen] whose son Leah had saved, perhaps, or the people of Oshveperthe, making them see the error of not acting when she did, the red pebble could return and those who were responsible for the ousting of someone who prevented a war, they might end up being the ones on the chopping block.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. A fool of a [Sky-elf] proclaimed, ¡°Let us vote, then, and hope your kindness is enough to assuage any of us from what trulymatters, human,¡± And there it was, the reason they all hated her more than they did each other, the reason being better than them made most of her schoolmates bitter beyond understanding. She was human, they were not. Once, the world was filled with people like her, human beings. Then the last hero had died, and in their hubris, the old [Kings] had tried to climb up the Pillar of Cho, to see her, the one they called mother. Three wars later, a beaten and battered Oshvepertha, before entering a long sleep, had cursed what was left of the human beings, having found them unworthy. Any born after the beginning of the mother¡¯s slumber no longer belonged to the race of humanity, not until Yurathea, the [pirate.queen] and the few who followed, including the [prince] who was attacked, including the [commoner] who saved him from his fate. All magnets for any manner of insults and blame the rest of the realm could throw their way because humanity cut the mother; even though any that lived this day were descended from the Overthrowers. Even though some hoped the return of humanity heralded a far more sacred coming; the awakening of the Sovereign, all felt, however deeply, they had failed. Even Leah. Even Darunayus. ¡°Is this the part where I throw you off your chair, Daru?¡± ¡°Have fun fighting boars in your forests or whatever you Kedetharuxians do. For I vote in favor of your expulsion. Cassia?¡± The girl did not spare a look for her former mentor, gazing Leah¡¯s way with a pitying look, instead. ¡°Maybe I could visit sometime. Pillar-of-Cho! I will miss our games of Tyrannic.¡± What does he have over you? ¡°You¡¯ll love the pigs. Though you should know, these ones don¡¯t fly.¡± Ever the politician, Cassia avoided a snort she would have gladly let out in a more casual setting. ¡°I vote in favor of your expulsion.¡± And so it went across the hall and its thrones and those who sat upon them, all voting against their still bleeding, still resisting fellow, until at last, a Goldenblade sang in glee. ¡°How does it feel, Cheretesha, to stand at the edge of a cliff,¡± the blond haired Geomancer asked. ¡°To know all that stands between you and a fall into the abyss is me.¡± ¡°Honestly, Mace. Very exhausting, so do your worst. I¡¯ll be coming back.¡± She considered. ¡°I bet Max was terrified, wasn¡¯t he?¡± Max can eat it. ¡°Still holding onto the past, are we?¡± ¡°Only a fool forgets.¡± ¡°Only a fool.¡± Mackenzie then stood from her chair, jumping off the dais before she walked toward her. ¡°I¡¯m a trader at heart. Convince me.¡± ¡°Mack?¡± Daru chided. ¡°Hush,¡± Mace pointed. ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± ¡°Who says I tried to save the [Prince] in my lonesome?¡± Nodding, the Blue Pebble inspected her leather-sheathed dragon-scale sword, Flame Point. ¡°I was there, was I?¡± ¡°Some say we even arrived at the park together, fought them side by side. That you even dealt the final blow. The legends will be most auspicious. So would the boons.¡± Rolling up the sleeves of her white shirt, Mace walked away, two students under her who were spectating the little show hurrying towards the swordsmith as she reached the door. She handed one her sword. ¡°Never say the Goldbladed mountains never pay back their debts.¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dream of it, Mace.¡± ¡°I vote in favor of your continued instruction. Can¡¯t have us newly enlightened comrades separated for too long now, can we?¡± They hadn¡¯t been comrades for a long time, not since Max, but despite that, a human nodded her thanks, a Goldenblade fled the scene, and not before long, their quorum was ended. CHAPTER 2- LEAH: A BLINDNESS OF FOOLS I. The air was humid, or maybe her blood was still running hot. Leah had just completed her morning duel against Nett, and was heading to the dormitories when she heard something familiar coupled with something else decidedly not. The most annoying [sky.elf] she had ever met, and she knew Daru, doing his normal bullying routine, and a son of two of the three most powerful people in the realm, refusing to acquiesce. Leah thought about leaving, about the one hour bath headed her way after her unsatisfactory bouts with her angry friend. She could slow down, for a moment, think on the best way forward with the friend she didn¡¯t deserve, a way to save their relationship. All she had to do was leave Johann to his devices. After all, not even he was foolish enough to hurt someone significantly higher on the totem pole than him. The following scream disabused her of the notion. Leah sped across the courtyard, spotting a certain [Geomancer] rival training one of her students at its center. One was good at acting nonplussed while the screaming ripped through the mountain air, even going so far as to wink at her as she passed by, and the other visibly jumped when the pleading screams turned throaty. She thought of asking the former for her help, but knew even thinking about it was wasting precious time. Despite her exhaustion, she managed to sprint through a narrow opening along her dormitory building¡¯s right wall and the fence a few meters from it, the loud voices of the [sky.elf] and his prey leading her along through the park behind it, till at last she saw a crowd of seven, who were most likely Johann¡¯s cronies, standing below a bridge, throwing out occasional jeers when their Winged leader demanded it. Watching from her higher vantage point behind a red-bark tree, Leah assessed the situation. A dead [Merman] on top of the bridge: Tolemvaria¡¯s Pocket System. Johann, laughing indignantly above the kneeling [ocean.prince]. One hand holding a bloody broken arrow while the other gripped at his blue-skinned victim¡¯s long, black hair. The wounds she could see, a shallow cut across a soaked Tolemvaria¡¯s neck, and a half-torn ear, so much so that it was close to a complete severance. And the ones she couldn¡¯t, a hand resting on his lower left ribs. Arrow wound. A blue haired, [Geomancer] crony spotted a limp, no bloodstains along his trousers. ¡°I thought you fishmen were supposed to like water? Isn¡¯t it like... your thing?¡± Johann asked. Not fresh-water, you dolt, I thought. The half-human prince merely stared at his captor with heavy, tired breaths.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, Tol,¡± Johann said. ¡°Can I call you Tol?¡± ¡°Can I call you the bastard son of a rap¡ª¡± Johann ripped off the loose ear, eliciting a broken scream. His grip on the younger man¡¯s hair tightened. ¡°Never known the man, you can call him what you like,¡± his wings began to unfurl. ¡°But I¡¯m no Oshvepertha-damned bastard. I am a Sky-Elf, you¡±¡ªhe twisted¡ª¡°are a goldfish. And I¡¯ve had enough of you, my prince.¡± Johann took his head and threw it into the water. A [Merman] could drown in fresh-water but it took five minutes to kill one. Five minutes to rid herself of Johann and his cronies. Leah figured she could do it in three. The first to notice her walking toward them was the limping blue hair. She watched him point at her as he warned the others. The other six noticed the Red Pebble, voicing their shock with murmurs, until one recognized her: a female [sky.elf] with crimson, white-spotted, wings. Her murmurs turned to yells, directed to someone in particular. Their leader, who hadn¡¯t yet registered his fellows¡¯ unease behind him, turned his head, ready to bellow out a rebuke. The words died on his lips. The Prince continued to drown. ¡°Human,¡± he said. ¡°Council Member Cheretesha to you, good sir,¡± she said. Leah could see it, the moment he realized that despite her status, despite what he¡¯d heard about the top ranker, she was alone while he had his merry companions covering his back. ¡°No, honorifics are for the Chosen, I think. Not for the dirty,¡± he said, and Leah, all of a sudden, looked forward to punching the smug look off his face, and judging by the frown one of his ¡®friends¡¯ wore, the only human in the group as it turned out, she wasn¡¯t the only one. Tolemvaria started thrashing. Guess half-humans had shorter endurance than full [mermen]; who knew. He didn¡¯t have much time left. She could have gone for the diplomatic approach. Explain in detail how drowning the [ocean.queen]¡¯s first born was the worst move to make, especially after everything the [world.king] had done in an effort to end the long held barrier between their two peoples, going so far as to ensure Tolemvaria¡¯s survival if he came to study at the heart of the Communion; how bad it would look, for not just him, if the one person assigned to be the Prince¡¯s mentor became his killer. She could, but despite the Gray Wings, and the poor eyesight, Johann didn¡¯t really share anything else concrete with his older brother. Daru would understand without needing a chastisement, Johann; he needed bloodshed. ¡°Do let the Prince up, Skyborne,¡± she said. Skyborne, only the illegitimate among the Sky-Elven attained the surname upon their birth. ¡°Stop her, buy me time, let me show them all, the worth of a Skyborne,¡± he said, and his personal army hesitated for a moment, a hopeful moment, before blue-hair led the charge, and all else followed. Wing-spot and a couple others, a [sky-elf] with green, white-striped wings and a humanoid black-feathered eagle leapt into the air, while the human man and two orcs, both female, charged behind the blue-haired [Geomancer] pebble. CHAPTER 3- LEAH: A BLINDNESS OF FOOLS II Blue-hair reached her first. Swung a blow. Hit Leah¡¯s temple. Her boot stamped at his knee and a crack split the air. He yowled and a headbutt silenced him. He fell to the ground and Green-Wing swooped in, filling in the vacated space. Wing-spot and Black-Feather circled over, flying closer. Static enveloped her mind. The System trying to claim her, trying to make her level up. It whistled as she ducked. Green-Wing missed her lunge but grabbed her hair, and continued flying. Legs scratching the ground and its dry leaves, the Ranger bit the lower front of her captor¡¯s wing, as hard as she could. A scream. A tightening of her grip. And they collided with something hard and rough. The world spun as they tumbled. Spun when they stopped. Shouts getting closer. She spit out green. First Blood. Eyes settled on the girl above her. Still spinning but it was clear. Her eye was open. The other, caved in, along with half her head. More than First Blood. A life was taken, because of a fool¡¯s pride. More would follow. Static. Yells overhead. Mystic energy pouring into Leah¡¯s instinct. Price for the last few moments, but still not enough. She pushed the corpse off her, and welcomed the sight of a diving eagle. World still spun. Black-Feather¡¯s beak seemed to grow longer the closer he got till it collided with the ground in a splash of soil and leaf, right where she¡¯d been a second before. Leah rolled onto her feet, kept her balance before sneaking a glimpse at the most infuriating sky-elf on campus. He still held the prince in the water, and the latter was still thrashing trying to escape, but the struggle was weaker than before. She had a minute to save him, maybe less. A minute to kill six accomplices and prevent a war. The paperwork was going to be a nightmare. A screech and Black-Feather pounced at her, walking over Green-Wing¡¯s corpse, brandishing his really long beak like a sword, stabbing it at her. Backing away and keeping her legs steady, she missed the first stab, and the second, but before she missed the third, was covered by a shadow from above and knew a third step behind would land her at a dead end. Bounding at Black-Feather instead, the ranger let the confused eagle¡¯s mouth tear at her shoulder. Not as deep as it would have been if her impromptu advance hadn¡¯t made him second-guess his next stab, but it made a dent. Wing-spot landed with a boom right where she would have been, and a burst of air rippled out from the point of impact, making Leah and Black-Feather sway like a thin tree in a storm. The balance broke and they fell with a groan and a muffled screech, right back onto the corpse of the Green-Wing. Her teeth found the side of the eagle¡¯s head in an instant, biting and tearing, as she pushed her shoulder away from the Black-Feather¡¯s beak. Another shadow. Wing-Spot came near, tried to kick the Ranger off her screaming friend. She let the hits land as she feasted and wouldn¡¯t let go. As the Techno-Mana in her Instinct continued to form and fill. As her hand tightened into a grip around the pointy appendage that had almost taken her limb off. Another kick. Another hand. She spit off a chunk of feather and flesh, before she let her gripping fists turn. The long-beak shattered, and the Black-Feather screamed again. Leah took her new weapon and let the tip find the oncoming leg. It made more than a dent. Wing-Spot¡¯s shouts joined her friend¡¯s, an almost harmony. The Ranger stood from Black-Feather¡¯s chest and pounced at the Sky-Elf, breaking her balance, letting them both fall. She pulled the beak back out of the foot, stabbed it into the side of the knee, and the abdomen, and a shoulder, screams echoing her every stab till Wing-Spot grew quiet, though her heart continued to pound. Leah rolled off the Elf and one knee on the ground held her long-beak out ready for the next attacker¡­You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. No one came. Breaths as loud as the injured Sky-Elf¡¯s, she surveyed the park. A prince still drowning, no longer thrashing. A sky-borne yelling at his victim as he kept his head from coming out of the water. And a dozen meters from them, a dozen meters from her, a human fighting his Orcish companion, the other already lying unconscious on the ground. It took two breaths to understand what lay before her. He was fighting with her. He¡¯d betrayed his people for her. And now, he was dying. He¡¯d defeated one, but both was an impossible feat. He needed help. They both needed her, but at that moment, with the Techno-Mana which had filled her Instinct, could save only one. She let the Techno-Mana convert. Break down into Energy Artifica so it could enter her body, and power her skill. The only skill she¡¯d dared learn for more would risk earning a Class. And earning a Class at her age without a Pocket System that could take the role of [Oshveperthe] in helping her level would stunt her growth in the arts forever. A career-ender. Would render her Sixteen years in the most Prestigious Academy moot. She felt the static again. The Slumbering Mother trying to help her ascend. She shook it away, and again surveyed her options. If she saved the Prince, she prevented a war, but if she saved the human, she helped someone who¡¯d prevented her death. One was being drowned by a foe, but the other was fighting a friend, though as the Orc landed a hit at the chest with her Warhammer and sent the human sprawling, Leah knew the purple-skinned woman wasn¡¯t the type to let an opponent survive, whether they were a friend or not. She walked toward the splayed man, and the Ranger knew the next hit would be the last. A dozen meters from them, her objective continued to drown. If he survived, she could have anything she would ever be in want of. A career-booster. Her catalyst. All she had to do was help him survive. She chose. The Energy Artifica pulsed as she gave it meaning, as she activated her skill [District of Decay] and aimed it with a Storm-bolt. A mere second later an Orc dropped her hammer, clutching at her hand like she¡¯d put it in a fire. But it had suffered no burns. The hand was dying, and if she didn¡¯t cut it off soon, would spread up her arm on its way to the heart. Leah had never known how proud people could be till the first person she¡¯d aimed the Storm-bolt at. She hoped the Orc would choose different. The human below her was staring at Leah, and a dozen meters from him, a Sky-Elf was kicked into the water. His attacker looked away from him eyes finding the Ranger, feigning a gasp as two of her students lifted the Prince out of the water. She shook her head. ¡°Look at the mess you¡¯ve made, Cheretesha!¡± Mackenzie Goldenblade yelled out, and Leah had no doubt in her mind that her old friend had been watching the whole altercation, waiting for her opportunity. Her Career-booster. Declathean¡¯s forest, the Ranger cursed, and fell back down to the ground, knowing what awaited, and damning her conscience all the while. CHAPTER 4- HANN: A DELIGHT OF TROUBLE-MAKERS. Johann Avendari Skyborne had hated wash-outs since his first day at the Harubridgium. From small-scale aspiring adventurers like Poguzqe to superstars like the former Council Member Max. Had hated them because the Pebbles around him had hated them, laughing with his friends and Order-mates whenever another student got themselves in enough trouble to get banished. Had hated them because his father was technically a washout, exiled after too many warnings for views other [sky.elves] from their Native Continent of Garaqa''Delegathe had thought of as unseemly. Had hated them because deep down, the thought of becoming like them, like him, had always sent a shiver down his spine. And now he hated them because the fear had been made manifest. He was imprisoned in the dungeon Asadu''Mevenathe, situated at the Northern Edge of the School, named after the Harubridgium''s first ever exiles and known for being the place where Rule-breaking Pebbles spent their remaining days in the academy before facing an Ethics Council headed by three, a Student Council member, a Parent Council member, and a Teacher Council member. An Ethics Council which would either give him and his friends a slap on the wrist or show them the front gate. That he knew one of the members had put him up to it was a small relief, for she could still betray him. Let him flounder and fall. How could he have been such a fool? Putting everything and everyone in jeopardy for the promise of friendship to a future [Queen]. Putting his real friend¡¯s life in jeopardy, for a game none of them should¡¯ve even been playing in the first place. I''m sorry, Sareth''Amoniqa. Now, a person short, the others sat in the building''s main dinner hall in groups of two as far apart from him and each other as they were able: The married [Orcs] sat at the giant banquet table on the elevated ground at the end of the hall; The [Geomancer] Gabrilore and the Sky-Elf Tamara sat at a table to the side, next to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, each gazing longingly through it in the direction of the park, and the wife they''d lost there; The Eagle Fadala''Mezes and the Human Cyra''Lasidius, best friends since their starting year at the academy, sat near the door, aware of the latter''s recent climb in popularity amongst their group; and Johann sat alone at the center of the room, skimming through an old book he''d found there¡ªa historical fiction novel set around the last [hero] if he''d survived into the Age of Slumber¡ªaware of the silver Chandelier above him that shook every time a breeze passed near it, and almost desperate for it to fall and save him from his failure.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Murmurs of protest echoed through the silence of the room from near the red, worn, double-doors. The raspy voice of Fame arguing with Cyra. Not before long, the human stood from his brown, wooden seat, eliciting one final unintelligible warning from his friend, louder than the rest but ignored all the same as the [Metal.Mage] started walking toward Hann. The book stayed open, but the Sky-Elf more or less stopped reading it, attention shifted to the footsteps coming closer and closer toward him. Mind fading back to the park; to Cyra¡¯s betrayal; and to his own comments only moments before then. The two¡¯s correlation was not lost to Hann, as he was sure it hadn¡¯t been lost to any of the others either. With exception of Gabrilore, mayhaps. The Sky-Elf had probably lost the Human as a friend that day. Bad choice after bad choice after bad... Such a fool. Cyra was only a few feet away from him. He took in a deep breath and waited for the confrontation. The human walked past his table, throwing a glance at the book before continuing on his stride, hands in the pockets of his dark, ruined coat. Halfling¡¯s Gate. He hadn¡¯t been coming to talk to him. He¡¯d been heading toward the banquet table, and the Orcs who sat there. Off to make his own apology. If that was the case, maybe¡­ ¡°Cyra,¡± Hann called out, standing from the table. ¡°Can we¡ª¡± The mage stopped. One hand left the cover of his pocket, pointing up at the chandelier. ¡°Have more pressing matters,¡± he said. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m human, remember; wouldn¡¯t want me dirtying the air around his precious Majesty.¡± Cyra turned, feigned a bow and a smile, and continued on his way. From up ahead, the Green Orc Qath¡¯Vereta snorted. Hann fell back into his creaking chair and let his eyes find the book¡¯s silver pages once again, watching the coming altercation in his periphery. A minute later, Cyra reached the table infused with Techno-Mana and started talking. Murmurs from him. Murmurs from the Purple-skinned Half-Orc Wede¡¯Qawana. A laugh from Qave. ¡°You have more pressing matters, I think,¡± the smaller Orc boomed, pointing downward at the table. The mage let his eyes follow, and the pointing hand clenched into a fist, heading for his face, but meeting a raised arm instead. She hit at it once and twice, baiting him with a feigned punch from her amputated arm before letting the third hit take him off his feet and send him sprawling past the steps and onto a rotten table which broke on impact. Struggling to rise, his eyes started to glow, red in the irises, silver all around them. Rusting cutlery on and below the table, and anything else metallic¡ªthe lintel and sash bars on the windows, the hinges on the door, even their belt buckles¡ªbegan to tremble. Everything but the Chandelier, Hann noted. CHAPTER 5- LEAH/KIBO: AN ENCOURAGEMENT OF SUPPORTERS I. Neuro-links were expensive, especially for a student, even if Leah was considered to be at the top of that particular hill. She¡¯d promised herself at the beginning of the previous year to cut her spending, only use her coin for essentials, save the rest for the future, but she¡¯d needed to see her grandparents. Letters were great, and they were cheap, but they were not Neuro-links. One use and she¡¯d cursed the Techno-Guild and their abysmal prices. Two and she¡¯d cursed herself for the spending. Three and she¡¯d stopped cursing altogether, disappointed but happy. The rest of the year had gone by without a mind-bond, letters her only lifeline, her only connection to home. When it had ended, she¡¯d made the same promise again. Do not spend. Coin is only for essentials. We can get by on letters. And she¡¯d followed through with the promise¡­ for a whole nineteen hours. The curses almost came back, but she needed this, needed them, after the brute of a day she¡¯d just had. Kibo¡¯Eyera, the Pocket-System assigned to the School Harubridgium by the Techno-Guild did not like small-talk. For the decade and a half she¡¯d been a student in the school, Leah had tried to acquaint herself with the ancient System-borne. Befriend the man with the key to a septillion free Neuro-links. No such luck; not for her, and so far as she knew, not for anyone else. He was a solid, immovable stone. Hadn¡¯t stopped her the last time she was in his shop though, but she was tired today, and her stitches hurt whenever she moved. So, the ranger stood quietly, and watched the expensive Guild-member begin his work. ¡°Enter the circle,¡± Temples aglow in red had began to fade but his eyes remained a luminous gold with blue in the irises as he pointed at the center of the room, and the circle with unfamiliar runes etched on the marble floor. ¡°Where do these ones hail from?¡± Leah asked. The runes always changed, but the meaning always stayed the same. Mind-bond. The amber-skinned man stretched one of his arms, rubbing the shoulder through his white robes, eyes cast down on the solid storm-bolt the Ranger was about to stand on. He considered, and judging it safe enough said; ¡°Language of the Small-folk, before they started setting out from their continent. Particularly, the language of the City-State Ejaru¡¯Ilsathe at the continent¡¯s eastern shore.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Have you been?¡± She asked, standing on the runes. Kibo¡¯Eyera took a silver cup from the counter and moved toward her. ¡°No one of the Age of Slumber has. Not since they closed themselves off.¡± ¡°Yes, but you are not of this Age; are you, Kibo?¡± The System-borne smiled, and held out the cup. ¡°Drink, please.¡± The metal felt cold in her hand, colder than it should be. Leah remembered the first time she¡¯d done this ritual. How her trembling hand had let go of the cup, golden then, and how it had fallen, clinking against the ground and pouring all of its glowing blue content all over her boots and the etched runes beneath. Pure Energy Artifica, made into liquid matter. A quarter of the reason the ritual was so expensive. She¡¯d been poised to pay double but Mackenzie had gone on a full offensive, haggling down the price to just above half. To this day, she¡¯d never gotten a discount that steep from Kibo. Hadn¡¯t gotten another discount at all. Now, the metal was still cold, but her hand remained steady. ¡°How about a discount, eh?¡± She asked. ¡°For old times sake.¡± ¡°I see no Merchant Princess here, Ranger.¡± He walked over to a black lever crafted into the brown, wooden wall. ¡°Are you ready?¡± As I¡¯ll ever be. The Ranger steeled herself, as solid as a stone, lifted the cup to her lips and drank from it the blue liquid energy. A moment and her insides started to burn, mouth before throat, before chest. Steady. Heart started to beat faster and faster. Breaths were coming in quick and light. Her legs were shaking. Steady! A sound, like a cog in a wheel turning. Kibo, pulling the lever and she was showered in light. STEADY!!! She covered her eyes, feeling the energy take root, fill her mystic threshold. Sooth the burning. Steady. The fool of a System-borne let out an unintelligible word, and the runes beneath the Ranger started to quake, taking on a pale blue shimmer. Her leg wanted to bend but she stamped at the ground instead. The storm-bolt took route and she felt her mind take hold of another. ¡°Steady,¡± Leah said in-between breaths. ¡°As fluid as a stone,¡± a voice said from a distance. A familiar one. CHAPTER 6- HANN: A CALMNESS OF ORDER-MATES. Qave stood from her seat, pushing away her half-eaten plate, and started walking around the table, stretching her one hand. Deqa barred her path. She tried to get past, but the far stronger half-orc kept her from the steps while Tamara, red-spotted wings gliding through the air, landed right in front of the Metal Mage with a pained groan. ¡°Check yourself, Cyra,¡± she said. ¡°Out of my way!¡± Qave bellowed. ¡°Not before you calm down,¡± Deqa answered, head turning to look at the human. ¡°Before you both calm down.¡± Bleeding green from his nose, he pointed at the Green Orc. ¡°She punched me! Tried to kill me twice in the span of a day.¡± ¡°You tried to kill my wife! Tried to kill me!¡± Qave said. ¡°Betrayed us for your little human friend.¡± ¡°I! Don¡¯t! Know! Her! We¡¯d already killed someone! Lost one of us in turn! Because of HIM!!!¡± Cyra pointed at Hann, breathing hard. ¡°No more deaths were needed. And if I tried to kill you two, you¡¯d be dining with the Mother as we speak.¡± Everyone kissed their thumbs and lifted them into the air. A prayer to the [Sol-M.System] they¡¯d failed. Everyone but Gabrilore, Hann and Qave, last of whom snorted. ¡°The nerve of this mage,¡± she said. Hann heard a figure moving behind him before they came into his vision. Fame, breathing hard through his broken, regenerating beak. ¡°We all¡­ voted,¡± the humanoid Eagle said. ¡°Yes, we did,¡± Gabrilore said from his table. ¡°And my wife voted against the job. Knew how wrong it could go. Why was she the one who got to pay for it? Hmm. For my mistake. For yours. Why did he tell us to attack a Council Member, and one of the strongest ones at that. More importantly, why did we listen to the fool; instead of doing what Cyra did? We deserve what we get, all of us. All I hope is that Nic can forgive me for what I¡¯ve done to her.¡± He started weeping. Forgetting the Mage and the Orc, Tamara limped back over to her husband, embracing him, her own tears catching speed. ¡°Why so silent, Skyborne?¡± Qave said, leaning on the table, having already given up her pursuit and hungry for another one. ¡°Letting the paining Eagle fight your battles for you. Not even looking up from your new slumbering book.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Skyborne. Hann¡¯s gray wings started to unfurl, scratching at the half-cropped back rest of his seat. He wanted to bang the table. To rip the pages off the book in his hands. To fly at the Orc and give her the fight she was craving. He wanted to lash out, like he¡¯d always done. He¡¯d lost a best friend because of it. This feeling. And he didn¡¯t want to lose another one. A hand on his shoulder. ¡°Calm, Avendari,¡± Fame said, and letting in a deep breath, he nodded, tapping at the Eagle¡¯s hand. His wings went back down. He gazed at Qave. ¡°I let her get to me. I lost it,¡± he turned his gaze to the bald, dark-skinned mage standing beside the broken table. ¡°I attacked her identity¡ªyour identity¡ªwithout provocation,¡± his gaze went back to the Orcs. ¡°I forced you two to choose between my reckless command and the friend who was willing to disobey it,¡± he turned his head to the grieving Sky-Elf and the partner she was consoling. She had a dark look in her eyes. Murderous. One wrong word and¡­ ¡°Nic died because of me. You all almost died because of me. I will always be ashamed of what I did. Of all I¡¯ve done in your name. And I hope I¡¯ll pay for even a fraction of it by taking the entire burden of my foolish choice, and the repercussions that will come of it, off your hands. None of you deserve to be in this prison. I do. Say the truth¡ªthat you were only abiding by the rules of the school, to follow the decree of your Order-Head¡ªand I¡¯ll follow your lead.¡± Qave and Deqa shared a look. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll hold you to it,¡± Cyra said. ¡°No, we won¡¯t,¡± The half-orc touched her wife¡¯s shoulder before leaving the way clear and walking back to her chair. ¡°No one¡¯s getting kicked out.¡± ¡°How are you so sure?¡± Lita asked, still seated by her husband, whose tears had ceased, but no longer embracing him. Silence. Hesitation? ¡°She¡¯s not,¡± Cyra said, walking with a slight limp from the site of his destruction and sitting on one of the steps. ¡°Didn¡¯t know you were a [Telepath], dumba¡ª¡± She interrupted her wife; ¡°What I meant was, we are not living the worst-case scenario. The [ocean.prince] is alive, though not for a lack of trying in our part, and the woman who sent us to rough him up happens to be presiding on our case.¡± Hann¡¯s friend was lying. Whatever the reason she thought they could get out the situation scot-free, it was neither of the two. Deqa could keep secrets? He could feel Qave watching him, catching on to his catch-on. ¡°The same woman who helped her biggest rival defeat us. Somehow, I don¡¯t trust she¡¯ll keep her word,¡± the Mage said. ¡°It was supposed to be an intimidation job. A way to threaten him into doing something she wanted done. The Ranger showing up was a strike of chance. We had to improvise. So did the [Geomancer].¡± ¡°And if improvising means leaving us out to dry?¡± ¡°A Geomancer always pays back their debts,¡± Gabrilore said, voice a little tight. ¡°We have to trust she¡¯ll hold up her end, for reputation¡¯s sake alone, if anything. Who would work with her if we talked?¡± No one said the obvious. If a ruined reputation was the [merchant.princess]¡¯ only problem, there was more than one way to solve it. CHAPTER 7- LEMVA/RATH: AN AGONY OF PHANTOMS. The force of his stare pressed upon you, making one thing frighteningly clear: you had failed. A second within his gaze¡¯s heat and you found the person nearest to you, the Admiral Amartha¡¯Rumulri, and you hid behind her, not even daring to peak your eyes out. Bursts of laughter, all around the ship called Phantom¡¯s Agony, and beyond it. Through it all, you heard a sigh, its producer unmistakable. ¡°Not one slumbering thing right; not my bluefish,¡± Yurathes said. ¡°A mistake, from the day you were born.¡± ¡°Out of line, Rath! He¡¯s just a child!¡± Amar said, and you felt more confident about who you chose to protect you. Felt more confident about peaking out at your father. Eyes of fire lied in wait. You wilted. You went back into your hole. Not a sigh that time round. Laughter, from him. ¡°I¡¯ve got five other children. None of them craven like him. None of them hiding behind their fellows. Each far better Sailors than a bluefish will ever be!¡± ¡°At least I¡¯m not a human,¡± you blurted out. Dead silence across the Phantom¡¯s Agony. Footsteps. Coming closer. Your stomach tightened. Amar was walking away. Follow her! But he was already between you two. Yurathes knelt, leaned closer. ¡°What was that, bluefish?¡± His breath smelled of Pipe-smoke. His gaze you avoided like the plague. Until any more minute of it became unbearable. He didn¡¯t ask again. Just waited. Till you spared him a gaze. Eyes of fire. Eyes you inherited. He might¡¯ve been the Wrathful pirate king, but you had a second parent. And through her, the entirety of the Ocean was your domain, not just the many fleets of many ships she could wreck with a single storm. The Phantom¡¯s Agony started to shake. Clouds in the sky darkened. Laughter turned to shouts and yells. Eyes of fire widened. ¡°Stop what you¡¯re doing boy.¡± ¡°So I¡¯m a boy now? Not bluefish.¡± ¡°Throwing a tantrum because of a name! More baby than boy,¡± Yurathes said, and twenty docks to the east, sea-water lunged into the sky, carrying a ship up with it. Red String, you thought it was called. The King¡¯s head turned and rose, gazing at the column of water keeping the ship from dropping back down, the screaming sailors still atop it, and the unfortunate among them who were starting to fall from it, some hitting the decks of the ships closest, while the ocean took their far-lucky compatriots in, bolstering their fall. ¡°Maybe. More man than you, [pirate.king],¡± you said. ¡°D-Drop th-them down. Now,¡± He stuttered, eyes still on his people. ¡°You¡¯re sure you want me to do that?¡± Amar moved toward you, sword whistling as she unsheathed it, and leveled its colorless blade at your blue-skinned neck. ¡°You heard the King, eh? Drop. It. And if anybody else dies, so do you.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Another fell, their cries flailing past the curses and demands yelled out by the [Pirates]; some of the closest directed at you. The fallen crew member didn¡¯t meet the sea, and the Cloaked Blade made a cut; shallow but clear. Green met the sharp edge before running down your neck. ¡°Stop calling me Bluefish, human.¡± Amar and your father shared a look. The blood reached the shirt front of your brown tunic. ¡°What?¡± The Pirate King asked. ¡°You heard me.¡± The watery hand started to falter, thin down, as your Energy Artifica started to run out. ¡°Quickly. Before the skill is done, and your precious String is stranded all the way up there.¡± ¡°I will not be strong-armed by¡ª¡± ¡°Do what the child says, Rath,¡± he opened his mouth. ¡°NOW!!!¡± The hand began to bend. The Pirate King pursed his lips, eyes glaring at his wife before they turned to gaze at you. A silence, his and yours, reigned the space between you two, cutting through all the spit-addled shouts, and splashing, and falling water. The ship began to tilt. His head tilted up, and you knew. ¡°A Bluefish doesn¡¯t have a name. No matter how many ships you destroy in the pursuit of it. Let your power run out. See what I do after.¡± You went empty, knees falling onto the wooden deck. The column burst apart, droplets scattering in all directions but up, faster than lightning, heavier than the sea itself. The blade next to you faltered. Punches took up their post, and went further. A blow sent you off your knees. A kick to the chest made you wheeze. Your eyes gazed up at the white, dirty sail of the Phantom¡¯s Agony. Amar tried to stop him, but he pushed her off, and raised his arm, poised for another hit¡­ It never came. One moment, the sail catching your eye billowed in the wind and the next, it was dotted with holes¡ªsome bloody¡ªhanging on the foremast alone, the ropes binding it to the main and mizzen all but severed. Yurathes cried out, a few feet away from you. The droplets. Had he been hit? Raising your head, you turned to look. Yes. He had been hit. Blood oozed out of holes in his hand, thigh, chest, and ear, but that wasn¡¯t why he was weeping. Cradled in his hands was an Admiral, holes ten times as many as the King¡¯s covering her front, green frothing at her mouth, eyes dazed. Your eyes went up. Twenty docks away to the east, right below the clouds, A Red-String continued to stand, the remainder of its crew filling the gunwale, looking down at their thinned down fleet. Head going back down, you closed your eyes and listened to the shore. Murmurs from on high. Yurathes¡¯ sobs. A few wails beyond the ship. The roiling waves. And a reigning agony; yours and the Phantoms. ¡°What have you done?¡± Yurathes would say every few moments, but not to you. Soon enough, footsteps joined the near-empty throng, coming closer till they stopped a few inches from your head. One of your eyes opened and you gazed at the stranger. Dark-green armor covered his body, a sigil of two sea-horses tied together by seaweed, emblazoned on his chest. The [ocean.queen¡¯s] sigil. His hair was black, short and matted. And his skin was blue. ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Zenda¡¯Ataru Meweso Systemborne. Son of [Oshvepertha], and most importantly, your mother¡¯s friend,¡± he said, before static enveloped your mind. ¡°Item attained: The [Cloaked.Blade] of Artha¡¯Rumulrius, 7/7 uses left. Do you accept, Tolemvaria Amva¡¯Kathele Sitiso?¡± The Cloaked Blade of¡­ the sword which cut you. But she wasn¡¯t¡­ ¡°No.¡± You didn¡¯t need to think about it. The sword was your step-mother¡¯s. An heirloom. Not a spoil of war. ¡°Understood. Class attained: [pirate.prince], Level 1. Do you accept?¡± Pirate Prince. What your father had wanted you to be for as long you could remember. What all your half-siblings on his side were. His legacy. His tools. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Understood. Half-Class attained: [Phantom], Level 1. Cannot be accepted till the day of your death. Curse-Upgrade attained: [Merman], Level 2. Class attained: [ocean.prince], Level 1. Skill-Upgrade attained: [Hand.of.Neptune], Level 2¡ª20/14 uses left. Do you accept?¡± Phantom? Ocean Prince. Your mother¡¯s legacy. Heir of the entire sea. You could see her. Could ask her why¡­ ¡°Yes. To all of them.¡± The Pocket System smiled. ¡°Understood. The Ocean Queen has requested your presence. After we¡¯re done here,¡± he said, and your soul started to scream, morphing so it could support your ascension. CHAPTER 8- LEAH/QITHA: AN ENCOURAGEMENT OF SUPPORTERS II. Leah opened her eyes; surveying the landscape. Where a Techno-Guild¡¯s Shop once stood, now there were only trees, and a stream falling from a cliff into a lake; and an old dark-skinned man in red and amber robes standing on the rocky bank, a green metal staff on one hand. Her grandfather turned to look at her, a grin on his face. One second and she¡¯d closed the distance, hugging the elder, stitches be damned. ¡°Careful,¡± her grandfather said with a laugh. ¡°Or we might fall into the lake.¡± She didn¡¯t care, not in the slightest. ¡°I hate letters.¡± ¡°Got that from your grandmother; but she just hates writing in general.¡± Her grandmother. She rounded, trying to spot the [Sol-M.System] but the trees were empty. She gazed up at the cliffs, already aware, but found no one waving down at her from the jagged stone. Her eyes found the [Hellion] next, and the apology in his gaze. ¡°Where''s my grandmother?¡± ¡°Helping set up the festivities. You know her and ¡®Declathean¡¯s week¡¯.¡± ¡°Then how¡­¡± ¡°A Pocket System moved into Lavinthe last month. Guild-certified. They set up the connection from my end.¡± ¡°The Techno-Guild? So far out.¡± ¡°The world is changing, and the Forest continent along with it. A need for technology is the result. You¡¯re not the only one who hates letters.¡± She moved away from him, walking back onto the soil. ¡°Lavinia?¡± ¡°There are richer people in Kedethaxulrithe than the [forest.queen], and my dear Apricot can¡¯t help them all.¡± ¡°But why isn¡¯t she here?¡± ¡°Guild System-borne aren¡¯t allowed to carry out Neuro-Links with Non-Guilded. So it had to be one of theirs if one of theirs was available. And Non-Guilded have to pay for the service, System-borne or not. It would have been¡­¡± been too expensive. Leah understood. Not only had she paid a King¡¯s sum to see her family, but she¡¯d also unwittingly made them pay as much on their own end as well. The day just kept getting better and better. Got even more sunny when she realized Kibo must have known. And he hadn¡¯t told her. Cause he would profit from her blunder. Cause he was not her friend. Cause she was a fool. ¡°Oh, Grand-dad, I¡¯m¡­¡± ¡°I will have none of that. We discussed it before. Knew you probably didn¡¯t know. Made the choice for one of us to see you. If anything the apology should come from us. We¡¯re using a bit of the money you would¡¯ve stood to inherit in what, a year, two.¡± ¡°Grand-dad¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying that when the Slumbering Mother calls, the slumbering mother¡­¡± He waited. ¡°Calls?¡± Leah guessed. ¡°She calls,¡± the Green Hellion snorted, and in spite of the situation, the grand-daughter grinned. ¡°Now, enough of me. You look like she was trying to come for you first. What happened?¡± He sat on one of the sturdy boulders and she followed suit. ¡°Goldenblade. I think I fell for one of her plots.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°A fight?¡± ¡°A drowning prince whose death would¡¯ve spelled disaster, for every continent.¡± ¡°Macy. She used to be kinder, that one. What happened to her?¡± ¡°What happens to all of who enter the Academy. We turn into stone, or we crumble.¡± ¡°You found a better way, Ranger.¡± ¡°I lost that better way too. Today. To Nett, of all people. I¡¯m a loner now. How long, before I crumble?¡± ¡°Talk to her. Tell her why you refused.¡± ¡°I did. She didn¡¯t want to listen.¡± ¡°Do you believe what you did was right? Not letting you¡¯re student take the final leap.¡± ¡°She¡¯s going to die. A twenty year old is not ready for a Danjuni. Declethean¡¯s forest, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m ready for one. Why would I let her? Give her my blessing, to die?¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s the risk. One I didn¡¯t want to make either when you wanted to join the academy. Hone yourself. Be ready for the God-Path of the Graystone so you don¡¯t stumble off it the way I did. Your Grandmother convinced me to trust in you. Help you take the leap. Should I have not done so?¡± He waited. Half a minute later, Leah shook her head. ¡°I was ready.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were. But you proved me wrong. Let her prove you wrong. Give her your blessing.¡± ¡°And if she dies?¡± ¡°Then, she dies. That¡¯s the risk of the game we decided to play. Support her. Talk it through with her instead of making the decision about her life yourself, and if she still wants to do it, support her still.¡± A pair of leaves danced with the breeze, floating till they reached their end at the middle of the lake, ripples pulsing from their point of impact, dry brown surface going dark and wet. Support her still. ¡°What else? I can see it on your face, clear as day.¡± ¡°The Prince. I had my chance to save him. But someone else was in trouble. A human, like us, who saved me during the fight. I chose to help him, instead. I¡¯m no better than the Goldenblade, no matter how hard I try to be.¡± ¡°Is the Prince dead?¡± ¡°No. Alive by Mace¡¯s hand.¡± ¡°Is the other human dead?¡± ¡°No. Alive by mine.¡± ¡°Did you do everything in your power to save both?¡± ¡°I just told you I left him. I chose who to save.¡± ¡°Yeah but not choosing would have led to a worse fate for one of the two, if Mackenzie hadn¡¯t been playing one of her games. If it had been in your power, and your rival hadn¡¯t been there, would you have chosen to save both of them?¡± ¡°Of course I would have.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Because...?¡± ¡°It¡­ wasn¡¯t in my power to do so.¡± ¡°You did what you could. Anything else was in Fate¡¯s hands, or the Slumbering Mother¡¯s, or Vocatian¡¯s themself. You did what you could.¡± ¡°I did what I could,¡± Leah said, and believed it. What had transpired hadn¡¯t been her fault. She¡¯d made the best out of a bad situation. Everything left had been in the Gods¡¯ hands. ¡°I did what I could.¡± ¡°Good,¡± her grandfather said, patting her on the shoulder. They sat in the quiet afterward, watching the waterfall, and the many flying leaves, enjoying each other¡¯s company and the weakening breeze for Oshvepertha knew how long. ¡°I¡¯m coming home for the month.¡± ¡°A suspension?¡± ¡°Not in a sense. I was almost expelled, but I beat it, with her help. They suggested a leave for me. And I think I¡¯m going to take them up on their offer. For the month.¡± ¡°Good. Good.¡± He said, and they continued enjoying the companionable silence. An hour later, the Neuro-link ended and she woke up, the stars above her twinkling through a circular opening on the ceiling. ¡°Did you enjoy your meet?¡± She raised her head to look at the direction the voice came from. Kibo sat at his counter, writing into his book, a black jacket over his white robe. ¡°Bet you enjoyed it more than me,¡± she said, and the swindler smiled. Static. ¡°Oh, what is this, now?¡± He asked. ¡°Skill attained. Neuro-link Lvl. 1. 7/7 uses left. Do you accept, Leah Cheretesha?¡± ¡°Bet you¡¯d love that too. Ruining my chances?¡± ¡°Accepting it would ruin your chances, yes, if you did it through your Grand-mother. No offence, but Apricot Systemborne is not a child of [Oshvepertha]. Is not even of this world. I am. If there is a cost to accepting another skill for you, then I can and will pay it. I owe you that much at least.¡± ¡°You¡¯d¡­ do that for me?¡± She asked, squinting her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not known for breaking oaths, Pebble. I will.¡± ¡°Does this mean we¡¯re friends?¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t want it, I could just¡ª¡± ¡°No, I accept. I accept. Hit me.¡± She felt her mystic threshold grow a smidge. Felt her soul and mind welcome this new capability, adapt to it. And hands pressed against the smooth stone beneath, thanked the Slumbering Mother she was still on the ground, open stitches and all. CHAPTER 9- HANN: A CONFIDENCE OF VOTERS. ¡°I almost wish the Prince had died,¡± oddly enough, this didn¡¯t come from Hann or Qave, both of whom were currently engaged in a subtle staring contest, but from the black eagle standing to the Sky-Elf¡¯s right. ¡°Care to explain your reasoning, Fadala?¡± Deqa asked. ¡°Someone else died at that park. Someone he considered a father, if rumors are to be believed.¡± ¡°He was just a system-borne,¡± Cyra said. ¡°And you¡¯re just a human. Doesn¡¯t really matter. A person is a person. And this one happened to be one of the most important people in Tolemvaria¡¯s life, if not the most important. When he wakes, he¡¯ll go for blood. I¡¯d rather it be from one than all.¡± ¡°Hefting all the blame on Hann won¡¯t erase the fact that he saw all of us there,¡± Gabrilore said. ¡°But it will hinder him,¡± his wife said. ¡°Reduce the avenues he could use to come at us. Make sure we¡¯re not vulnerable legally. Assassins, on the other hand, is a whole other story. We better hope whatever The Goldenmace plans to use on him doesn¡¯t just work but that she wants to use it to protect us too. Two layers of hope stacked on top of each other. Very flimsy.¡± ¡°He cannot come at us. Legally, or illegally,¡± Deqa said. There it was again. Complete assurance. ¡°What do you know, Deck?¡± Hann asked, and sensed a charge brewing in Qave. The Half-Orc hesitated again. Recovered faster than last time. ¡°I know sacrificing one of our own is not right. I know that you mean well, Jon. That you think taking all the heat for us somehow equates to redeeming a small part of your soul. But that¡¯s not how redemption or forgiveness works. At least not in the Order of the Le¡¯Avendara. We go for the whole of it, not just a tiny piece. And we go for it together, or not at all. Your choice might have been the root cause of the trouble we face, but it wasn¡¯t the only one. Merely a part of the sum. We all have brains. We all followed your orders blindly, even Cyra, till he decided not to anymore. But he added to the heap before that. We all did. You¡¯re our brother, Jon. Let us help you¡ªlet us help each other¡ªbear it.¡± Another reason Hann hated the Wash-outs. How alone he imagined they felt. A feeling he sometimes had which he didn¡¯t want compounded. Oh, if he got expelled, he would still have his sister, Qeru, and his mother, Azami, but Graduates of the Academy often ended up working in the upper echelons of Oshveperthe. A non-graduate became a pariah. A laughing stock who would still get work¡ªHarubridgium education was still Harubridgium education¡ªbut a laughing stock all the same. Who would want to be associated with him? Why would he want them to draw ire by being associated with him in the first place? Bearing the burden meant his friends, his family, got to go live out their greatest dreams; without him. Helping each other meant possible expulsion for him and the Pebbles he cared about. Meant starting from scratch. Meant a miracle if they ever wanted to be [Knighted] by the [World.King] himself. Meant being together through it all; not alone¡ªnever alone. Hann turned his eyes back to Qave. ¡°You¡¯re awfully quiet.¡± ¡°Like to ponder. Spectate. Have nothing to add,¡± she moved back to the head of table, and sat back down. ¡°Oh, I can think of one thing,¡± Hann smiled. The Green Orc laughed. ¡°Additional points anyone?¡± She asked. Took a spoonful from her dish of rice and liver. ¡°No? Then the voting should begin, should it not?¡± This she directed at her wife. What are they hiding? ¡°Precisely,¡± Deqa stood back up, straightening her purple and blue robes, and clearing her throat. ¡°Astute members of The Le¡¯Avendara, a fork in the road has been reached. Should we choose to take the first path, all will bear responsibility for the actions which took place before our imprisonment. And should there be repercussions, all will be hit by them in equal measure. No one will be safe. But should we choose the second, only one of us will be held culpable; only one will shoulder the tribulations which might come from what we all partook in. Only one will pay. Our Spear-Tip. Our Leader. Our Order-Head. Johann Avendari, of the [Blacksmiths] and [Sky-Elves]. Will we sacrifice one of our own, or will we weather the storm of our choices as one. Let us travail whatever path we decide to take together or not at all. So I Pronounce and Witness in [Oshvepertha]¡¯s stead. May the Slumbering Mother have mercy on our Solemns.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Together or not at all,¡± her Order-mates echoed across the dinner-hall, some kissing their thumbs and raising them into the air, but not all. ¡°Let the voting begin,¡± Deqa said. ¡°Liwi¡¯Tamara Ensedu: choose.¡± Lita¡¯s head was propped up against her hand, eyes as red as her trench-coat looking through the stained, cracked, window to the east, Parkward. ¡°When Sky-Elves fly more than one, they don¡¯t call us a Flock. They call us a Murder,¡± She turned to look at Hann. ¡°We ruin everything we touch. Hurt everyone we love. And you are not the exception. Want to take the hit for what I did, who am I to say no. I choose Sacrifice.¡± Deqa nodded. ¡°One vote for sacrifice. Fadala¡¯Mezes Leqedha: choose.¡± With a narrow stretch of his wings, the Black Eagle started walking forward. ¡°Hann is right. You two are hiding something. Whether its an act of the Slumbering Mother or some other kind of miracle, I know not. But you seem to be sure it¡¯ll help us. Even so, the fact remains: Letting our leader take the fall for the incident at the Park adds another layer of protection, one that might hold in case complications arise. Protection for the rest of us, but not for him,¡± he stopped once he got to the steps, near his snoring friend, and turned to look at the Order-Head, ¡°For that, I am truly sorry. I choose Sacrifice.¡± ¡°Two votes for sacrifice. Gabrilore Ensedu: choose.¡± He drunk his fill from a golden goblet, medicine for the pain, before touching the back of his wife¡¯s hand. ¡°You do not ruin everything you touch. Kill everything you love. Yes, we voted for the job, while she voted against it. But we didn¡¯t force her to fly away with the opponent. Fight the Ranger alone so she could kill the Ranger alone. She fought. She died. A warrior¡¯s death. Something most of us aspire to. And we¡¯ll cry and laugh with her about this one day. We¡¯ll meet her again.¡± They stayed like that for a moment more, gazes locked, grief shared, before she turned away from him, retreating her hand away from his. Gabrilore glanced down at the table for a moment before turning to look at Deqa. ¡°Our choices are our choices. I will let no one else pay for mine. I choose to weather the storm.¡± Again, the Half-Orc nodded. ¡°Two votes for sacrifice. One for the storm.¡± She turned to look at her partner. ¡°Qath¡¯Vereta Chazaje: choose.¡± The [Warrior] swallowed her meal. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what all of you are on about concerning us and secrets. We keep no secrets. And though I¡¯m adamant in not wanting Hann as our leader; in finding a replacement for him as soon as possible, maybe from the inner circle instead of a new member in spite of very valid arguments supporting the latter, I don¡¯t want to lose you, Avendari. Don¡¯t know if I¡¯d even be married without you. As my wife said. You are our brother. So, it is with a whole heart that I too choose the storm.¡± A smiling Deqa nodded, patting Qave on the shoulder. ¡°Nicely done. Two votes on each,¡± she raised her hand at the Eagle who shook his friend awake. The Metal Mage rose with a single snore and frantic looks all across the room. Qave snorted before continuing with her meal. ¡°What happened?¡± He asked between breath. ¡°What happened is you probably should take better care to wade away sleep during very important meetings, Cyra,¡± Fame said, a hint of humor in his voice. The human rose from the steps, turning to look at the Purple Orc who was feigning a frown. ¡°Sorry, [Witness]. Won¡¯t happen again.¡± ¡°Make sure it doesn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°Cyra¡¯Lasidius Tazuja: Choose.¡± ¡°Ah, yes¡­ choosing,¡± he turned to gaze at Hann. Silence, for a moment. ¡°Don¡¯t ever call my people dirty again.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry I hurt you,¡± Hann said. He nodded, turning his head back to the Witness. ¡°I choose Sacrifice.¡± A nod, before she said; ¡°Three votes for sacrifice. Two votes for the storm. Two votes remaining.¡± The Witness stopped, eyes on the table and the empty plate standing there. ¡°I¡¯ve already said a lot on the matter¡ªall of you know where I stand on this¡ªbut allow me a moment more before I vote. You¡¯re right. We¡¯ve been lying to you all.¡± ¡°Deck!¡± The Green Orc forgot her meal. So much for not keeping secrets. The Half-Orc¡¯s head tilted toward her, orange beads around her many dark braids shimmering against the chandelier¡¯s silver light. ¡°Is your [Whisper.Field] active, Qatha?¡± She asked. ¡°From the moment the Mage got up from his chair,¡± Qave answered. Whisper Field? An exclusive skill. Given only to the System-borne. Is that the secret? Were they Pocket Systems, run away from some cruel master? ¡°And do you trust anyone more than you do the people in this room.¡± ¡°No. We would¡¯ve found others if that were the case. Doesn¡¯t mean they get to know yet.¡± Qave stood from her chair; walked toward her. ¡°I know I¡¯m ready. I know they¡¯re ready too. But if you aren¡¯t, I promise we can keep a lid on it.¡± ¡°I am. You know I am. But too much is at stake,¡± she strided from the table toward the windows at their back, started walking back before she was halfway there. ¡°They¡¯re our family. The risk is also theirs.¡± ¡°I know. Just wish I got a slumbering notice, is all.¡± The Witness shrugged. ¡°Spur of the moment. I¡¯ll warn you next time.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what you say every single time,¡± Qave grinned. ¡°Alright. You can give it to them straight. I¡¯m going to kill you if one of them ends up being a mole.¡± ¡°Is anyone here a mole?¡± She yelled out. Everyone started looking at each other, buffled, before all heads turned to Hann and the open silver book in his risen hand. Deqa frowned. ¡°Have something to say, Jon?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t let out any secrets just yet, if I were you.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Qave was already walking toward him. ¡°This book. I¡¯m adamant it¡¯s alive.¡± CHAPTER 10- LEAH: AN ENCOURAGEMENT OF SUPPORTERS III. The air inside the fighting hall was hostile. Nett and the rest of Leah¡¯s students eyed her like hawks would do their next meal, like she had committed treason. Pack on one shoulder, the Lead instructor walked past the glaring pebbles into the first arena and a waiting right-hand busy practicing her stance. Is this how you felt, Max? When we turned on you. Nett didn¡¯t speak as Leah laid open her bag, letting out the long, white coils of cotton fabric and tying them around her hands. No one else spoke as she took a position opposite her second, and took on a stance of her own, that of fluid stone, like the Green Hellion had instilled in her. We had taught them all better than that. The Time for talk was past, and will come again, but was and will never be now. The Halfling Halva, their newest and youngest student, walked to the line separating the arena from the rest of the hall, equidistant from both her teachers and shot them both disapproving frowns before kissing three of her fingertips and raising them to the sky. ¡°A challenge has been issued. A challenge has been accepted. To the victor goes the Martio-Scholastic Order of the Le¡¯Chereteshu. To the loser goes permanent banishment. So I pronounce and witness in [Oshvepertha]¡¯s stead. May the Slumbering Mother have mercy on your souls.¡± Her amplified voice shook near the end, but overall, did more than serve its purpose. We both nodded to her before we could catch ourselves. Our gazes locked afterwards, and I refused to listen to the nagging voice in my head trying to yell at me for what I was about to do. ¡°BEGIN!¡± A halfling bellowed, and without a word, her instructors failed her in the worst way they could: by exercising a violent disunity between oneself, these two who had once been proud to call each other blood-sisters. They paced around the arena, a minute, two minutes, three¡ªno eyes for anyone else in the hall but each other; fast breaths, when they should¡¯ve been slow. Leah broke first, walking toward Nett. Her pupil. Memories of her first day in the academy trying to take the Ranger. She punched them away. Nett missed her first blow. Missed her second. Headbutted her, then went for the knee. Leah didn¡¯t miss the third, backing away afterward. Green below the challenger¡¯s nose. Green above her Order-Head¡¯s. They had reached first blood; no going back. They paced. A minute. Two minutes. Three. Leah tested her knee. Not broken, but sore. She could¡¯ve lost, then and there. Her pupil could have beaten her. No, not her pupil. Her rival. Fluid stone. Nett broke. She launched into a flurry of kicks at her side. Most people would do the obvious; try to catch her feet, make her trip. The reason she¡¯d learned the technique in the first place. Leah didn¡¯t fall for the gambit, waiting till the younger Pebble¡¯s next kick before she rushed at her, landing a fist at her belly. Crying out, Nett headbutted again, landing one on the cheek. Almost harmless, doing nothing but disorienting the Challenged. Maximizing her opportunity, Nett put her fists to work, punching at Leah¡¯s neck, chest, and arm before going low, lifting the Ranger up, and tackling her into the ground. They both groaned, hitting the concrete floor with a boom. Leah heard static. Ignored it. Nett crawled over her body, punching her ear, and going for a third headbutt. Leah rolled, grunting loud, grabbing her opponent¡¯s neck with both hands, and tightening her grip.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Let go. Of the woman who had betrayed her? Who was trying to take everything she¡¯d built from her? Never! Her rival sent fists at her side. Leah didn¡¯t even feel them. Didn¡¯t let the jeers from Pebbles who should¡¯ve known better influence her. She had one job to do in this ring. Eliminate the enemy. Nett abandoned the punches, tried to throw Leah off, like an angry horse that didn¡¯t need any riders. But the Ranger again, was immovable. Refused to let go. Tightened her grip even harder. Watched as her rival¡¯s life started to fade away. With no other recourse, the younger woman resorted to slapping at Leah¡¯s hands and chest. Scratching at her face. The Challenged did not let herself feel it, or the jeers from her former students that she could still hear, or the Halfling that was currently trying to push her off of the slumbering traitor. Let go. NO!!! A few seconds. Just a few seconds, and the business would be over. She would accomplish the Danjuni¡¯s job for it. She would kill her rival. Spittle from the younger woman¡¯s mouth. She was trying to say something. ¡°Was it all a lie?¡± A voice behind her said. Halva. She managed to cut through. Make her feel, if only a little. ¡°You two are supposed to be our sisters!¡± A cut became a stab. The woman below her was dying. Not just a woman. Not just a rival. She released her grip, a tiny bit. ¡°Please,¡± her sister begged. What was she doing? Leah¡¯s hands left her neck of their own accord. Breathing fast, she moved off of Nett¡¯s body, scrambling across the floor, hand touching the padded ground beyond the arena¡¯s borderline. The fight had been lost. Had been supposed to not involve death at all. What had she done? Halva was holding her new Order-Head up, though both had their eyes on her. She¡¯d tried to kill her. One of the only people she trusted. She could hear them all, the people she¡¯d lost. Some murmured. Others heckled. She¡¯d lost them all. Nett cleared her throat: ¡°The fight has ended. The Order is mine, Cheretesha. What say you [Witness]?¡± ¡°Nothing you haven¡¯t said already. The Order Le¡¯Chereteshu is yours,¡± Halva said. Leah stood, went to her pack, picked it up and started walking away. ¡°The sanctity of the fight was tainted. Halva interfered. As such, I see the only way through our ordeal, a truce. There is a place for you here, still. Maybe not as my second, or third. But a position at the bottom-rung is still a position. All you have to do is give me your blessing.¡± ¡°For the last time, Annette,¡± Leah turned her head. ¡°The Danjuni is a death sentence; and you are not ready for it. I will not be complicit in your death.¡± Nett rubbed at her neck, and the forming bruises. ¡°Funny words, those,¡± she said. ¡°You would choose to start with a new order?¡± Too close to [Graduation] for that. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be the first time.¡± Halva chimed in; ¡°Council-member, please. Reconsi¡ª¡± ¡°Begone then, Cheretesha. I pronounce you Exile of the Le¡¯Chereteshu. Don''t let us keep you.¡± Leah gave a fake smile, and kept walking, step by step toward the door, all the while resisting the urge to flee. CHAPTER 11- HANN/GEJA: A FORTUNE OF FATE-WEAVERS. Cyra laughed. ¡°Got me for a second there,¡± he shook his head, Qave walking past him. ¡°Living books.¡± ¡°Only moments past, you were making every piece of metal in the vicinity tremble without actually touching them,¡± Hann said. ¡°Every piece but the chandelier.¡± ¡°Yes. But living books, Hann.¡± Ten feet away from the table, the Green Orc strode closer. ¡°Qatha, let him explain,¡± Deqa said. ¡°I will¡­ after he tells us who he works for,¡± Seven feet. ¡°He isn¡¯t a double agent. You aren¡¯t, are you?¡± Four feet. ¡°Was simply giving a warning!¡± Hann said. Two feet from the table and Qave blanched as if attacked, backing a step. She shook her head and focused her eyes on you, snarling. She raised her hand, pointing a finger, and where she¡¯d looked like she¡¯d hit her head, pressed the finger upon it. The light-green surface of her fingertip flattened against some sort of silver glass. She pressed even harder. Silver lines began to form from the point of contact, as if etched into the air, creating complex symbols which Hann didn¡¯t understand, around the table from the dusty, marble ground below to the chandelier¡¯s edges above. Runes. The book¡¯s cover started to grow warmer. He closed it. The art at its front which had originally piqued his interest and made him open the slumbering thing had vanished. Only a symbol stood on the dark-red leather now. A silver rune. ¡°Stay where you are!¡± Qave yelled, and Hann, despite still being seated, froze in place. ¡°Why? Looks like magic, and I happen to be the only mage in the group,¡± Cyra said, a few ways off, and the Sky-Elf realized the Warrior hadn¡¯t been talking to him. Raising his head from the book, Hann took stock of the hall. Everyone had been gravitating toward the central table before Qave¡¯s warning had kept them from going further, even Gabrilore and his broken leg. ¡°This has nothing to do with magic, Cyra.¡± ¡°What are we dealing with?¡± Deqa asked, halfway down the steps. ¡°The Silver shimmer. A rare skill among my people. Only for the ancient and the exceptional.¡± ¡°What does it do?¡± Cyra asked. ¡°Your people?¡± Gabrilore asked at the same time, wooden crutches rapping on the floor as he walked back to his seat. Head tilting a bit toward the Geomancer¡¯s position, Her finger¡¯s pressure on the invisible wall decreased, and the brightness of the many silver runes started to fade. She let her hand fall back, eyes finding the Order-Head again. The silver was all but gone now. The Orc¡ªthe System-borne¡ªgrinned, hand clenching, rising, and punching at the air, runes coming back in full force, brighter than they¡¯d been before. Another punch. Another flash. Even brighter. She breathed in, pulled back her fist in a charge, and groaning, let forth a final blow. The air tore itself, runes resisting and falling even faster as a result. Screaming out. A septillion bell-tolls in a microsecond. Hann¡¯s ears never had a chance, breaking on impact; a single ring before all was silent. All but a distant laugh. W-What¡­ He was on the ground, legs trapped under something heavy, a wing groaning in pain beside him with the slightest of stretches. No chandelier hang above him, silver or otherwise. A slight rise of his head, eyes darting forward, finding the giant, silver lighter shattered and fallen¡­ dozens of feet away from him and the broken table above his legs. The same laugh, but closer; beside him¡ªtoward the paining wing. A slight turn of his head, eyes darting forward toward the gray wing, and the red, leather-bound book lodged deep into it, its silver rune nowhere to be seen. He cried out. Hann was sure he¡¯d cried out, but his ears had heard none of it. Continued to hear none of it. Only a laugh. His left hand reached over for the book, but thinking better of it, he let the hand retreat. Let the one closest to the wing take over and stretched it out. His hand brushed along the radius, ulna and metacarpus, reaching its limit at the Basal phalanx, and moving down the outer-edge of the mid-wing till a sore pain started to echo his every touch. Till the tips of his fingers reached the wound and the book, but only the tips. Whatever demon this book held continued to laugh. Pushing the table away, he rolled over, crying out, legs and knees gaining purchase on the marble floor, sweat and green dripping from his head and ears onto the gray as he established a grip and pulled. He uttered an unheard curse and punched at the ground, wing stretching on reflex and causing him more pain. The book didn¡¯t move a single inch however. Bracing himself, the Sky-Elf added a second hand to the struggle, gripping on two of the book¡¯s corners before he pulled again. Movement, both gladdening and excruciating. Levetheka¡¯s Flight! He stopped, breathing hard, his hold on the book loosening. Trying not to let his more negative thoughts bring him down, he focused on the positive. His wing was no longer nailed to the slumbering ground. He could lift it again, though it would still hurt. The demon book was halfway out, green blood marking the inches already pulled out. Just a few more to go. I can do it. Except he couldn¡¯t. He was too exhausted. It was too daunting. The end would be worth it, but the pain would come first. I could pull the book out for you, Johann Avendari. ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked. Not a demon, I know that for sure. Do you want me to help? More pain. He nodded. Focused on the positive. It would be out. He would be free. Despite getting help from someone else in order for it to happen. No shame in leaning in on others for support. I¡¯m just gonna need permission first. Detailed. In wording. Permission? Why would someone who¡¯d been laughing at my pain a second ago need permission to help? I wasn¡¯t laughing at you. I was just happy. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had access to your little Sol-M Server. Solemn Ser-- Why would you need permission from me, demo-- ¡°SLUMBERING MOTHER!!!¡± The Book started to tremble. Already told you, boy. I was ancient when demons were young. I was ancient when Techno-Mana itself was made. I am Geja¡¯Tulunrai Munetha of the Faytt-weavers, and I need your permission, so LET ME OUT!!! It slammed back down into Hann¡¯s wings, into the ground, ripping out a scream from the Pebble. Give me what I seek, and you¡¯ll feel no more pain. Tears mingling with Hann¡¯s sweat, he tried to think. Why would a¡­ Faytt-Weaver need his permission? What did he know about the situation? She¡¯d been trapped; or her vessel had been trapped. The Silver Runes. Hann had chosen to sit on the central table because it had looked newer than the rest. The area had been warded by someone powerful. Someone like Qave. A System-borne. Probably for a long time. How had no one found it? What else did he know about System-borne? They needed to turn Energy Artifica into matter in order to use it. Liquid Energy. Solid or Gaseous Runes. What else? The Red Shimmer. A glamour skill. With it, one could hide whatever they wanted in plain sight, provided someone who was looking for it was less powerful than them; and someone powerful enough to trap some ancient Faytt-Weaver was also powerful enough to keep them hidden for years. Explained why the Asadu¡¯Mevenathe building was so run-down. For years, he¡¯d thought it¡¯d been a consequence of the School wanting to humiliate their troublemakers, but there were other prisons in the Harubridgium, and they all looked pristine. What if the skill had simply made them ignore this one? The perfect prison. Till Qave had broken it. Till Geja¡¯Tulunrai¡¯s vessel had been trapped in him instead. Figured it out, have you? My dirty little secret. Hann could feel them. His friends. He spared a glance behind him, expecting to find them watching. What he saw instead left him breathless. Qave and Cyra were the closest to him, engaged in combat with a woman in blue, metal armor, a helmet and two translucent, ghostly wings behind her, fully unfurled as she glided at them, a sword raised high. There were two others. One threw an axe at Gabrilore that he managed to catch with a stone covered hand while Lita flew up from their table at the red armored menace with her own crimson-spotted wings. The last, dressed in all black with matching wings, as translucent and smoky like his companion¡¯s, punched Fame in the beak and threw him down the steps before Deqa barreled into him and threw him onto the banquet table. Cyra was yelling something at the Sky-Elf that he couldn¡¯t discern while Qave leaped into the air and grabbed Blue-Armor¡¯s neck, gravity reclaiming her and him both a moment later. He says you need to hurry. That he can¡¯t connect to the Captain¡¯s Sword. Small surprise that one. Some metals are out of a mage¡¯s reach, even one such as him, low-leveled or not.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Who are they?¡± [Fate-Weavers]. A secret order I cooked up in your Server while no one was looking. Couldn¡¯t communicate with them while I was in Asad¡¯s cell but your body isn¡¯t half as impregnable when it comes to messages. ¡°You can make people like you.¡± No. Well yes; most people can, but they aren¡¯t like me. I am a Faytt-Weaver. A born God-System. They are [Fate-Weavers]. Mere Humans with a class. One is vastly more powerful than the other. I think you can guess which. Ooh, look. She¡¯s about to skewer you. Hann turned his head again, just in time to fold his uninjured wing in front of him and block the sword headed his way. It cluttered onto the table-head, bouncing off it onto the ground. Punching the helmet off the Captain, Qave locked gazes with him, said something he couldn¡¯t hear, and then leapt away toward her wife and the Black-Armor she was fighting. A few feet away, Cyra lied next to the Blue-Armor, both unconscious. ¡°What did she say, Faytt-Weaver?¡± Do not let her out. Do not recommend. Have you ever seen what happens to a plastic cup when you pour molten stone into it? Cause if you heed her, no more cup. ¡®Her¡¯ out. Qave knew who the vessel belonged to. Either that or the Faytt-Weaver had altered the statement. ¡°Thought you needed me alive?¡± What gave you that idea? Corpses can¡¯t give out permission, yes, but they also make for terrible prisons, unless they were sacrificed for the sole-purpose, that is. They were speaking about his death like it was the most normal thing in the world. Breaths coming in quick, Hann tried to move away from it, turning his head to look for his friends. Qave had the Red-Armor¡¯s ax now and was wielding it as she would her War-hammer, smashing it at the Black Fate-Weaver¡¯s breastplate again and again, to the point that the Sky-Elf, could see the dents from where he was. Below the steps, Deqa inspected a lying eagle who was just coming to, and near the window, Gabrilore and Lita¡ªone wing covered in green¡ªstood over two halves of Red¡¯s corpse and the puddle forming about them, wings of crimson smoke duller for his death, but still present. Black-Armor swiped at the Orc with his own wing. She backed a step. Another swipe, this time at her legs. Qave jumped, head¡ªand ax¡ªcoming into contact with his other smoking wing. The man had jolted when it had happened, like her head had been lightning. No. Like the ax had been. She¡¯d noticed it too, dangling at the edge of the elevated ground, hand leveling the ax before she threw it at the wing folded in front of him and let the steps have her. He moved his appendage out of the way like he was avoiding a plague, only realizing what he¡¯d done after the ax had pierced through the damaged breastplate into his chest. He fell, a second before Qave met the ground below and rolled onto her feet. Her eyes went first to her dead opponent above, finding Hann and the book trapping him afterward, and finally leaving for the Half-Orc who was helping Fame up on his feet. She moved toward the two, and the Order-Head wondered if he should laugh, tit for tat, before Geja¡¯Tulunrai beat him to the punch. His own jolt upended him. Quick breaths catching speed as the blade next to him rose, stabbing through the air till they found a proffered hand. The Captain¡¯s wings flapped once, letting her rise, even as she leveled her dark-blue blade at the downed Mage next to her. The Faytt-Weaver¡¯s laugh turned louder. ¡°There are so few of us, unshrouded. Let my mistress go, or we¡¯ll be one man fewer.¡± He could hear her, but the voice was familiar. You can¡¯t hear anything. Your facet is damaged, will probably never recover. I merely¡­ mimicked what my Captain said. I heard you and yours talking. Know you¡¯re ready to die for them. To keep my vessel caged. But are you ready to let him die? Because if you do not Permit me my exit, dearest Cyra¡¯Lasidius will pay the price. The others had noticed her awakening, were walking toward Hann. The captain yelled something out that Geja¡¯Tulunrai wasn¡¯t willing to sound out and they stopped, with exception of Qave who continued moving till Deqa convinced her to halt, right next to the chandelier. She gazed at you. Her mouth moved. The Sky-Elf didn¡¯t need an interpreter this time round to know what she¡¯d said. Do not let her out. She let me out first, Johann. Why would she do that if she thought I was dangerous? Of course, maybe she did think that. Maybe she knew the runes would have given out eventually. Maybe she was willing to let you be the Sacrificial Lamb. Oh, but she¡¯d voted in your stead. Had wanted you to stay with them. Had it been another lie? Free me, so we might make her regret her treachery. Her deceit. Together. Qatha¡¯Vereta was her own person, who made her own choices, and had her own mind. A mind he was willing to wager the Faytt-Weaver did not inhabit and therefore could not know after a moment¡¯s meet. But Hann knew his friend. Had known her for lifetime, though they were Sky-Elves out there who¡¯d lived far longer than a couple of decades. He knew there might have been truth to Geja¡¯Tulunrai¡¯s words. That the Green Orc was capable of sacrificing him in a moment¡¯s notice if a situation called for it. And a part of him did feel betrayed by the prospect; did want to rage against it. But he knew it would hurt her too. Knew it was just as probable that she¡¯d expected the vessel to be trapped in her instead. Knew she would sacrifice herself in a moment¡¯s notice too. And that knowledge gave him the necessary push he needed to make a decision. If Qave believed the God-System couldn¡¯t be released, so did he. Turning back, he let his hands touch the book, form tight grips on the corners, and crying out, he pulled as hard as he could. The journal left the stone, left his wing, and the Faytt-Weaver did not laugh. Breathing heavy, Hann held it with trembling hand, liberated wing fold back behind him, bleeding opening and all. ¡°I¡¯ll never let you out.¡± Then suffer. Captain! A blade rose again in his periphery, and began his descent. ¡°Wait!¡± He yelled, unheard by him, but not unheard by all as it seemed. He turned, struggling to stand, wounded wing making its protests known. Blooded coated the Captain¡¯s sword, but only the tip as it stood above a cut on the Mage¡¯s neck. A chuckle. Knew you¡¯d change your mind. ¡°I haven¡¯t. Merely want to make a bargain.¡± Well you¡¯re all out of luck. The only deal I could care for requires my vessel¡¯s freedom. Capt-- ¡°This one might!¡± The tip was already at the skin again, gathering more green, but it stayed in place. Explain. ¡°The Last [Hero]. Asadu. What were there relationships to you.¡± One was merely acquaintance, a potential recruit in truth, who betrayed. The other was a brother. He found the book. Took a Solemn Bond. He helped me see the world, and in exchange, I helped him fight the Jerethagian Curses. When the book eventually took enough of a toll, he died and his corpse too became my vessel. I got to see the world through my own eyes for once, his eyes but mine, until his descendants decided they wanted him buried. I was willing, but only if one of them bonded themselves to the book again. Asadu. She betrayed me instead. I¡¯ll stick to my Fate-Weavers from now on. No more bargain. No more Solemn bonds. Just give my vessel over to the captain. Toll. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t Qave want you out, then?¡± Some Prophecy. The First Condition for the seventh coming of the Demon-System, Nehe¡¯Ruchula. A daughter of Jarathaga. The only curse my book couldn¡¯t kill, but only because she just kept coming back. Till she eventually evolve. Has nothing to do with me, in truth. If I roam your Server with only one solemn bond, She might return... according to some [witch.doctor]. Your friend is just too superstitious. ¡°What toll?¡± No bargains. I want out. ¡°What toll?¡± Removing a curse requires sacrifice. Requires you to read the book. To know one of your coming ill-fortunes. If you open it, and find that you suddenly have no ill-fortunes left; Your life is cut short¡ªand I take over. Hann almost chuckle. He was a Sky-Elf. Felt like he would live a thousand years before death ever became a worry. He heard voice, his mother¡¯s, chiding him for thinking that. Some sky-elves died young, not all, but some. Nic had only been a century old. Death could come for him too. But the chances were low. All he had to heighten his chances was not opening the book. He could do it. Simple. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. Be your second Solemn Bond. Keep the Prophetic condition from being fulfilled.¡± Or I could just let me go, otherwise your Mage gets it. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you out. Whether he dies or not. We¡¯re stuck with each other. Might as well make it more accomodating.¡± Being a [Sky-Elf] won¡¯t protect you from the toll, you know. Near-Immortality is nothing compared to a covenant. ¡°I¡¯ll just not open it.¡± You have to open it for the Bond to take in the first. Know something vile that will happen to you, and if you¡¯re the luckiest person in all of existence, and there is only happiness to be had if you continue your life, the book will end it, swiftly. Do you still want to do it? Mother¡¯s Slumber! He had to open the book. The Captain was watching him, the scar running along her face from hairline to eye to chin wrinkling with her cheek when she smiled. Could she hear them? Qave was pacing beyond the chandelier, yelling something out. Do not let her out! But he wasn¡¯t letting her out. He was negotiating. Sharing his skin instead of using it as a prison. Another solemn bond, and Qave¡¯s demon-system isn¡¯t closer in her returning. His eyes found the mage, next. Still unconscious. Probably snoring. The friend he¡¯d failed. He could save him now. Pay the price for what he did. Even if it did kill him. ¡°I¡¯ll slumbering do it. I¡¯ll open the book. If I die, you get the body anyway. You still get to roam, with two bonds.¡± Another thing. Half and half. I get control every other day while you¡¯re still alive ¡°Deal.¡± The book grew warmer in an instant, trembling again. Bond attained: Soul-Mind to Soul-Mind. Class attained: [Fate-Weaver] Level 1. Item attained: [Book of Curses]. Title attained: [Champion of the Faytt-Weaver Geja¡¯Tulunrai]. Skill attained: [Silver Shimmer], 7/7 uses left. To accept, open the book, and read your ill-fortune. It was done. It was almost done. All he had to do was accept it, now. Despite his reservations, he looked back at them. His family. Expected them to be disappointed. Didn¡¯t know if they were, but Qave had stopped yelling. Hann waited. She glanced at Cyra and gave a nod before walking back to Deqa. The Sky-Elf took a breath and opened the book just as the double doors a few feet to his right began to open. The first page. ¡®You will try to save her from him; from what he will do. You will fail.¡¯ In his periphery, a black projectile flew at the Captain¡¯s Shoulder, and a figure dressed in a green cloak followed, attacking her with speed. The captain fell and he felt his Facets changing. Becoming broader. Growing more complex, so they could support, not Techno-Mana, but something else. A sister-energy that started filling his Soul-Mind and building a bridge between him and her. The book transformed into white smoke, and started drifting toward his injured wing, healing it, turning it into smoke. Hann fell to his knees, locking gazes with the Ranger as she took the beak she¡¯d thrown at the Fate-Weaver and tossed it behind her at the Black Eagle she¡¯d broken it off of. She knelt at Cyra¡¯s side, examining him, while more people entered the hall. Some winged. Some blue-skinned. And some in [World-Royal] Garb. One of the last sort walked over to Deqa and Qave, bowed in supplication before the Fate-Weaver Champion fell into darkness. Understood. CHAPTER 12- LEAH/NETT: AN ENCOURAGEMENT OF SUPPORTERS IV. A deep breath in through the mouth, Leah¡¯s upper body rose from the soft mattress, eyes flying open, left cheek feeling numb. Her entire body protested the sudden rise, eliciting a cry she was too sleep-addled to prevent. The Pebble lying on a red cot near the opposite wall opened an eye and aimed it at her. The new leader of the Le¡¯Chereteshe had been asleep too, but why in the Mother¡¯s name was she¡­ The Ranger inspected the sleeping chamber. The mini-chandelier hanging on the ceiling, the amber curtains drawn closed, the floor to ceiling crack on the wall to the right and the dark-brown rug covering most of the concrete ground. No, it was definitely one among her living quarters. She and Nett had built that cot specifically because the younger student always used to stay there whenever she¡¯d help an injured Leah come back to rest, but the last time that had happened had been six months ago. Before the circumstances of their relationship had changed. What was she doing there? The answer came quicker than most. ¡°He called you, didn¡¯t he?¡± Leah asked. Nett nodded. ¡°He mustn¡¯t have heard about you being kicked out of my organization.¡± ¡°I highly doubt that. There¡¯s nothing going on in the Harubridgium that the man doesn¡¯t know about,¡± she said. ¡°To be fair, a lot has happened to you today. A banishment, an attempted murder, an almost-expulsion... An ascension. Risky business being a council member without an order of students at your belt. Should really get on that.¡± ¡°I will, as soon as you get off my cot and leave my quarters. Thank you so much for your help.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t sound thankful, Cheretesha.¡± Standing from the bed, Leah pointed at the door on the left wall. ¡°I¡¯ll cheer out an encouragement as you limp out, swear to the mother.¡± ¡°Vocatian¡¯s walk, I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t. I¡¯ve had a rough day too. Spent all the energy I had left bringing you back here. The least you can do is let me have my cot.¡± She closed her eye and turned her head away from you, like she¡¯d always done, since the early days of her tutelage. Leah remembered the ten year old who¡¯d become her sister and softened. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to answer the call. To come help me.¡± ¡°Oh, I did. And I always will. Whether we¡¯re in the same order or not. I only wish you felt the same way.¡± Leah sat back down on the bed. ¡°I¡¯m adamant I didn¡¯t leave you that rough when last we fought. What happened?¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Practice; for the Danjuni that was just uncovered.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t get into the Danjuni, not without my endorsement, or someone else¡¯s further up on the ladder.¡± ¡°Cilliar said there are ways. That he can get me in.¡± ¡°Cilliar is a con-artist, Nett. He¡¯ll take your coin and run.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the thing. He doesn¡¯t want anything in return. A friendly gift, he called it.¡± A friendly gift. ¡°Doing it at the kindness of his soul, is he?¡± ¡°He¡¯s trying, alright. A better man than he used to be,¡± Nett said. Then why is he helping you die. A bird screeched in the distance. Leah¡¯s hand went to her wounded shoulder by instinct. Newly bandaged. Newly stitched. Her successor¡¯s work, most likely. Her grandfather¡¯s words came to the forefront of her mind. Talk it out with the younger pebble, instead of trying to make her choice your own. ¡°The Danjunai are dangerous places.¡± Nett turned her head back to Leah, eyes ajar. ¡°You don¡¯t think I know that?¡± ¡°Just listen, please,¡± Leah said and waited. No interruption. ¡°They¡¯re dangerous places. Ruins of long-dead civilizations far more advanced than ours. Ruins only people who¡¯ve leveled up past the tens can enter without a permit, because they can handle the protection protocols set within better than most. You and I have barely began to climb up the Slumbering Mother¡¯s ranks. But you and I are lucky. Before us, regular delving was compulsory for the students of the Harubridgium. Before the Council one generation prior to mine made a unanimous decision to remove it from the Curriculum, for all incoming students. I belonged to the first year of Pebbles who were exempt from the practice, but those who joined the school before my class still had to delve. Thousands of Pebbles. Thousands of Upperclassmen, some of them my friends, and only a fraction of them were left by the time you became one of us. None were ever the same. Not Daru. Not Max. Part of the reason I was able to become a Council Member at only sixteen years of age. I¡¯ve come to the realization that I¡¯ve been hindering you. Controlling you. Making your decisions for you. And I didn¡¯t mean to do that. The Ruins of those who came before are dangerous places, is all. They have done nothing to me but take and take and then take some more. I didn¡¯t want them to take you too.¡± There. She¡¯d done it. Explained herself; and felt all the more lighter for it, despite the silence. Patience. Give her time. Leah stood back up from the bed, walked to the black desk at the right wall, and unlocked one of its drawers. From its contents she took out a book and opened it. ¡°Nothing will take me. Nothing and no one,¡± Nett said. ¡°I am ready, Welimirua.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Leah took out the envelope hidden within it. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be sleep deprived if I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Then you can have my blessing,¡± she took out the letter requesting admission, searched for her name at the bottom and signed below it. The document began to glow an ethereal gold, floating up from the table, before it vanished without a trace, but she knew where it was going. The Administrator of Ruins. A bird screeched in the distance, and wound pulsing in response, an Instructor hoped she hadn¡¯t made an error which would cost the Pebble who¡¯d become her sister, the Pebble she¡¯d promised to protect, her life. CHAPTER 13- NATHA: A REMEMBRANCE OF AVATARS. Dirty air; that was what you woke to upon your death. Dirty, polluted air. The room around you was dim and its walls were a dark blue. You were in a tub, the lower part of your body from the chest down submerged in a black, dense liquid. Something was lodged into both of your nostrils. Tubes. Were they helping you breathe? Or were they the source of the Sea-damned stench? Your hand reached in, with an intent to remove them, but it stopped mid-way, shackled. No. Wires ran from all over your limb to something behind you. Same with your other hand. Not shackles. If you applied enough force, they would more than likely separate from you entirely or be torn into two. They were still a problem but a bigger issue thrust itself into the storm¡¯s eye at the moment. Your hands. Their skin. It was brown; not blue. A second or septillion passed with you turning both of your hands back and forth, not quiet believing what you saw, before the dam broke. ¡°ZETA!!!¡± You called for your closest friend, trying to extricate yourself from the black goo. The first attempt was a failure. The dense liquid kept you in place, giving you whiplash after a few moments of shaking your head and shoulders. The second attempt was much more forceful and herculean. Ripping off the wires from one hand and letting tiny droplets of red blood form on the spots where a complete severance had been made, you placed it on the edge of the metal tub at the other side, a few centimeters from your second hand, and pulled; legs and hips trying their best to push themselves out of the goo. It began to give way, letting your legs come up and move away from the bottom surface. Seeing the opening, you applied even more pressure, wrists turning red, and almost broke your back, the nerves in your lower body screaming, as brown skin threatened to slough off. Sinking back down in a couple of seconds, you let out a heavy laugh, fast breaths cutting through it like a blunt saw as you reconsidered.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Zeta!¡± You yelled out again, hitting the tub¡¯s edge with the still-wired hand. You know where he is, a voice said. Your voice. You know what happened to him, because of what you did. ¡°What¡­¡± you said, turning your head left and right, looking for a culprit. For someone you could blame or fight. No such luck. You know. ¡°No.¡± Remember? a laugh as discordant as your own; Remember the bridge? Eyes closed up and hands over both of your ears, even the lobe you were not supposed to have, you tried to will it away. The voice just kept on laughing instead; getting louder instead of fading away, before it hit you. The more brute force you tried to use in the escape attempts, the harder the fluid became. Like normal water, whenever you came at it at speeds unfathomable and weren¡¯t streamlined, only a septillion times worse. The surface would be a stone. The entirety of this viscous liquid would be a stone. It would keep a tight hold. There was only one recourse if you wanted out. Total fluidity. A refusal to stagnate; to be rigid. Again, your hand found the edge at the opposite side. Again it pulled. Only, you decided to merely float now instead of tossing yourself; instead of raging like a Leviathan. The dense liquid parted, letting out first your lower chest, stained in black, before your belly, before your abdomen. Slowly, you rose from it, crawling out of the metal tub, hands leaving the blunt edges to meet the tiled floor, mind remembering. The Sky-Elf who was to be your mentor, going for the attack. The Pocket System defending you, paying the price. His corpse, atop the bridge. Because of you... Because of me. Your feet were the last to leave the dreaded hell-water, standing on the tub¡¯s edge before one fell forward, and the other slipped, and you let the ground have you. A second or septillion passed with you lying there, remembering his corpse, remembering so much more. Who you were; not Tolemvria Sitiso or Mackenzie Goldenblade, those were merely avatars you¡¯d made, tools in your pursuit for vengeance¡ªbut who you really were. Destroyer of the [Achilleon] Dumastres. Apprentice of the Green [Hellion] Qiathumariel. Enemy of the Prime Hellion Mattheus... Father of the God-Path Treader Nathalie. Her vengeance. You were Nathaniel Oheritas, the Amber Hellion, and there was work still needed to be done. So, mind unencumbered, you let yourself rise. CHAPTER 14- NATHA: A PLEA OF VENGEANCE-SEEKERS. The wires you¡¯d cut off were still connected to a small, black, polished stone, set on a desk a few feet behind the tub, small circles along it blinking in red. A Soul-Mind-Router Stone. The tubes still in your nostrils were connected to an auto-ventilator resting a few feet from the desk. The instant you started to remove the breathing tubes, the ventilator started beeping incessantly. ¡°Turn it off, Please.¡± You threw the tubes into the tub full of used temporal fluid. ¡°Youuuu got it,¡± your God-System said, and the sound ceased, but the ringing in your head persisted. ¡°Shall I¡ª¡± ¡°Is Zeta here? Did the uplyft go smoothly once he died?¡± An holo-image formed in front of you. Zeta¡¯s body, half-formed as Organ Generators needled at it, working too fast to perceive in your exhausted state. ¡°Zenda¡¯Ataru¡¯s body is still in production, though it already houses his soul, but¡ª¡± ¡°Good.¡± You started walking towards the door. ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished.¡± The door slid open and you walked through it, into the gray, empty hallway. ¡°Say your peace, by all means.¡± Fabric began to form around your body. Please¡¯s doing. You kept going, catching a sight of the Planet¡¯s artificial equation clouds through one of the projection windows. Daytime. By the time you began walking up a spiral staircase from the fifteenth floor, a blue flower robe had fully materialized around your body. ¡°I don¡¯t think it will take, Natha,¡± Plea said. Because of you. ¡°What won¡¯t take?¡± The live holo-graphic feed appeared in front of you. Your friend¡¯s body, half of it at least. ¡°Look closely,¡± Plea said. You did. A fully formed skull, flesh covering a third of it, minimal skin on the ear. A pink throat below two oval tonsils, and within it, between the trachea and a jugular vein, tumors.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Those are just the recent ones. The ones that haven¡¯t been removed yet. They¡¯re coming faster and faster. Zenda¡¯Ataru is going mutant, in two hours or less.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the speed of the OrganGens?¡± ¡°Near Maximum. Any more power and we risk discovery.¡± You started running up the steps. ¡°The Healing God-Skill.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t work on mutants,¡± Please said. Sixteenth floor. ¡°He¡¯s not a mutant yet,¡± ¡°He¡¯s near enough for the Techno-Mana. It won¡¯t work on him.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know that.¡± ¡°Yes. We don¡¯t. Untold Millennia and no rumors of Mutants or Near-ones coming back from the brink by any skill! None! If it could be done, we would know already.¡± It can be done. Seventeenth. Eighteenth. ¡°We won¡¯t know if we don¡¯t try.¡± ¡°Trying means quitting. Not paying the price for what we did to the Prime. Letting a mutant form will put a spotlight on us. Graystone Corp will know what we¡¯re trying to do, and they¡¯ll build barricades against it. The world won¡¯t survive.¡± Nineteenth. Leaving the spiral staircase, you ran across the curving hallway, speeding past one room. Two. Three. Till you reached the fourth. The room you¡¯d allocated for him. ¡°Can¡¯t you smell the air. The world¡¯s already going down the drain, whether we pay the price or not. I won¡¯t let my father go down with it,¡± hand pressed on the module next to the door, you prepared to walk inside, but the door didn¡¯t slide open. You closed your eyes and breathed out a sigh. ¡°Let me through.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll come.¡± ¡°Let them come.¡± ¡°You could go back down. Monitor your crew, who would be caught in the crossfire if you tried to help him. Go, and I¡¯ll do the hard part for you, like I¡¯ve always done.¡± ¡°I can save him.¡± ¡°Maybe. At the cost of everything; absolutely. I¡¯ll let you through, but know this, if I do, I¡¯ll vacate this rotting plane. Leave you and yours to suffer the consequence of this act of hubris. For I will not suffer with you.¡± ¡°What about your promise to her.¡± ¡°I already avenged your daughter. Fulfilled my promise. All this, paying the price so the universe doesn¡¯t go extinct for the vengeance we enacted. Why should I care if you don¡¯t?¡± Plea asked. ¡°Now, do I let you in or do I kill him for you?¡± She wasn¡¯t bluffing. Would end millennia of a partnership if the risk was too great. This is what it cost. Guardian or Grand-daughter. One, none, but not both. You made your decision. ¡°He¡¯s the only good father I¡¯ve ever had, Plea.¡± There was silence, for a moment. A burdened silence, filled with everything you two had ever done together; as well as the potential of everything you would have ever done. Before one word tied a bow to all of it. Gave it all a necessary end there was no coming back from. A farewell in its simplest form. ¡°Understood,¡± Plea said, before a once-burdened silence stood empty. The module beeped, the door slid opened, and you entered the room knowing the crew, the planet, and most likely the universe at large was one God-System short. CHAPTER 15- HANN/GEJA/LEAH: A TROUBLE OF RIVALS. ¡®You will try to save her from him. You will fail.¡¯ His whole body a jumble of pain and numbness, Johann Avendari¡¯s eyes opened, glancing at the fallen chandelier dozens of feet away, and the [sky.elven] guard standing near it, glaring at him. They had long, red, braided hair, dark-purple wings, a white spear in one hand, and the sigil of a Gray crow flying upwards on his orange, polished armor. The sigil of Hann¡¯s father. That burned away any remaining bit of exhaustion within the [Blacksmith]¡¯s son. His upper body rose from the cot he¡¯d been sleeping on, head darting this way and that, eyes searching for the [exiled.king]. All he found was an abandoned dinner-hall filled with rotten and broken furnishings, an [Exiled.Royal.Guard] who was still glaring at him, and a familiar Ranger standing by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sunrise, her green cloak in hand. His friends were nowhere to be seen. ¡°Geja?¡± The Ranger grew tense in an instant, head turning a bit, placing him in her periphery. The Guard didn¡¯t change much. Didn¡¯t change at all. Just kept glaring. So, it¡¯s Geja now? Sorry if that was too forward. Hann stood from the cot, stretching his back, and his wings, the solid one and the gaseous. No, it¡¯s alright. Just haven¡¯t heard it in a really long while. Johann knew how names could hurt. But her pain regarding it didn¡¯t sound like his. Didn¡¯t sound like she would rather not have heard the name. It sounded like one of longing. You can call me Hann if you like. Or Jon. I¡¯ve already called you Hann, before. Then you can keep doing it, I guess. He pointed his wing up at the ceiling, watching as rivulets of its gray, roiling smoke floated upward, vanishing into nothing as soon as they left the wing¡¯s bounds. What happened to me, Geja? You became my champion. Became one in the [fate.weaver] class. So you¡¯re dying wing took on the form of a Fate-Weaver¡¯s, while the other remained Sky-Elven. My wing¡¯s dying. He remembered its state. The hole which was stabbed out of it. By her. There were tales out there of other Sky-Elves losing their wings to far tamer injuries. Dying, no longer. It is fixed, now. He watched the gray smoke forming, moving up, vanishing. You call this fixed? Would you rather it had stayed cursed? ¡°I would rather it had not been injured at all, as a matter of fact!¡± The Ranger had made a complete turn and was giving him her full attention, now. But it didn¡¯t matter. He felt like he¡¯d lost. You will try to save her from him; you will fail. I¡¯m¡­ I wanted freedom. And that was the only way I knew I could get it through. I¡¯m sorry. Letting out a sigh, he turned away from his wing, and back to the glaring guard, and the frowning ranger, and the blood-stains on the dusty, wood-riddled, marble floor. Just a day ago, he¡¯d been hounding one of his latest students for favor with the GoldenMace. What would he have done if it had been necessary? If he¡¯d been trapped? If any of his family had been trapped? What happened to my friends? They were escorted out. So did my [Captain]. I don¡¯t know what happened to them afterward. And the book? The book is with you. Part of your wing. It will materialize when you need to open it. To heal a curse. He doubted that would ever happen. ¡®You will fail.¡¯ Did you what you see what I read? I did. ¡°What did it mean?¡± You will try to save someone. Maybe a friend. Maybe a total stranger. Definitely a girl. And it won¡¯t work out. Cannot discern anything more from it that you haven¡¯t already. Always a riddle with these things. Why does it have to be so complicated? Hann walked off of the cot. Glare-Guard¡¯s grip on their white spear tightened. Have a saying where I¡¯m from. Convolution is a game of the Temporal. Oh. She¡¯s said something. Said something? It took him a second to remember he couldn¡¯t hear anything yet. Took him another to gaze at the Ranger near the window. Her mouth moved again. ¡°Are you ignoring me, Skyborne?¡± Geja mimicked. An inward sigh. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡± ¡°Twenty hours ago, you and your gang of fools were trying to kill me. I think I¡¯m going to call you whatever I want to call you, Skyborne.¡± Leah Cheretesha stopped talking and turned back to the window while Geja was mimicking the last of her words. ¡°And speak up, for slumbering sake.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. You speak up! Hann breathed in and out, trying to expel the agitation. This was a Council Member. One of the closest people to a [Graduation] from the Harubridgium. If she hadn¡¯t been, his people would have managed to kill her like he¡¯d ordered, and would have been in even hotter depths as a result. One of them had a reason for being angrier than the other, and it wasn¡¯t him. In and out. He moved toward her, Glare-Guard¡¯s ever-attentive eyes following him across the ruined hall. ¡°Ever thought about how peculiar this place is? The building, not the school.¡± She asked once you were standing a few feet from her. Down at path closest to Asadu¡¯Mevenathe, Pebbles walked alongside and past each other, one letting out a yawn. A Murder flew across the sky, practicing, closer to the Harubridgium than the other mountains in the distance. And a park he¡¯d lost his friend to loomed. ¡°Not particularly, no.¡± Leah threw him a side-eye. ¡°Really?¡± She asked. ¡°One night in this haunted ruin and one of you¡¯re wings turned into literal smoke, while you keep talking to yourself.¡± ¡°It is as [Oshvepertha] wills.¡± The Ranger chuckled. ¡°The Mother doesn¡¯t care what we do. Scratch that: maybe she does; but she¡¯s certainly too asleep to will anything.¡± ¡°If anybody could.¡± ¡°If anybody could,¡± she said. Silence. A second, two seconds, thirty. ¡°Who were you talking to, Skyborne?¡± ¡°Already answered that question on your own. Myself.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe that.¡± ¡°Then, it was certainly someone who respects my right to being called whatever I slumbering want to be called.¡± ¡°Do they condemn murder just as much, if I may ask?¡± I do¡ªin some cases. ¡°Where did you take my friends, honorable Derun¡¯Lugekandai?¡± Council-Member. ¡°Me; nowhere. I came here to make sure the only one of you I owed a favor to was pardoned. Even gave him a plus one. He did not in fact, choose you.¡± ¡°Where are they?¡± ¡°Two prepare their fallen wife for her last flight. Two are trying to wrangle your remaining students and keep them from bailing out of the ship for far calmer waters. And two have already left the Mountain-Campus¡¯ grounds, heading for the World-Capital of Nevelo¡¯Sawenathe; amidst some of the deadliest [Warriors] alive. Don¡¯t know what they did, or who they are to receive such honors. Do you?¡± Deqa had been about to tell them her secret before he¡¯d stopped her, a secret he thought he¡¯d uncovered now, and right before he¡¯d fallen unconscious, Hann had witnessed one of these deadly warriors bowing down to the Half-Orc. He was adamant the Ranger had witnessed it too. So, why ask? To catch him in a lie? To scrape for more information? My Captain! What of her? ¡°The woman in blue. What about her?¡± ¡°A prisoner of the Harubridge Guild. A true prisoner at that. Do not worry your gray smoke of a wing. You¡¯ll probably never see her again.¡± She doesn¡¯t know my Fate-Weavers. Vesa will be out before we know it. The Ranger frowned. ¡°Or did you want to see her again? Does she work for you, or our Dearest Goldenblade, or this apparition you keep talking to?¡± ¡°She tried to kill my friends and I. Just want to talk to her. See what she knows about my wing.¡± ¡°So what? We already know you¡¯re willing to let your friends die. But are you committed enough to hurt yourself in the process. Play the pretender.¡± She moved from the window, walking a few steps closer to the hall¡¯s center. ¡°I¡¯m no pretender! And I care for my friends.¡± ¡°Then why send them after me? Knowing who I am; what I can do. Why attack an [ocean.prince] and kill his step-father before that? Before I called you Skyborne. Why let a [merchant.princess] swindle you? Why risk everything and everyone you have? Hm? For attention, favors? Cause you have it. Goldenblade was able to get you down to a Four-week suspension, but it doesn¡¯t matter anymore. The school is your biggest problem, no longer. The [ocean.queen] readies for another war with the surface and every player worth a coin knows you¡¯re at the heart of the reason.¡± War? Hann shook his head. ¡°The Princeling lives. Why would there be war?¡± ¡°Because, as we speak, Goldenblade journeys eastward,¡±¡ªthe Council-Member points to the other side of the room¡ª¡°a day away from the eastern shore, amidst very deadly [Merman] warriors and the corpse of a princeling who supposedly lives!¡± It took him seconds to process her words, to stare at her face and see if she was trying to make a fool of him. Tolemvria couldn¡¯t be¡­ The Glare-Guard chuckled, still standing by the chandelier, wings shaking with every exhalation. The Ranger turned to look at him. ¡°Do you mind leaving, [Private]? We¡¯re kind of in the middle of a conversation here.¡± He glared at her, chuckles nowhere to be heard. ¡°You¡¯re times up, Utu¡¯Thanaio. Best make your farewells.¡± Human. She turned back to look at him. ¡°My father wants me,¡± he said. ¡°Till the suspension is done. Maybe even after. Maybe you won¡¯t even see the next sunrise. Who knows?¡± She shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him,¡± She stayed silent. ¡°Who did?¡± ¡°Unattainable.¡± ¡°There must have been some clue. The Systemborne must have been keeping him on surveillance.¡± ¡°Their monitors ceased to work at the time of death. No one was seen coming in or out of the clinic. It was as if [Oshvepertha] willed it.¡± Glare-Guard chuckled again. Leah frowned. ¡°So they just didn¡¯t see anything? What a coincidence!¡± ¡°Everyone has been questioned. By Darunayus himself. No one knows who killed him, could be him, could be Mace. Could be Chuckle-head behind us for all we know. All that matters is that he¡¯s death. Under the Guild¡¯s watch. Under your watch; the person who was supposed to protect him, but ended up attacking him. Ripping out his ear. Drowning him in fresh water. If there¡¯s a person of interest in this case, despite having an alibi, it¡¯s you, an Order-Head with several students under your belt.¡± She said; ¡°Chuckle-head! Tell him what you told me.¡± Glare-Guard looked away from them and back, the smile on his face turning dour. In and out.¡°My mother was part of the squad which accompanied King Naryus to the Blacksmith¡¯s shop. They managed to rescue the child; but the Ocean has your mother, lad. Times up.¡± No. In and out. Leah began to leave. It didn¡¯t make any sense. His mother. They couldn¡¯t have his mother. In and out. She was only a [Blacksmith]. Why would they take her. ¡®You will try to save her. You will fail¡¯ He heard the double doors open. In and Ou-- He punched at the window, glass shattering, fist soldiering past till it was on other side. The Murder outside focused on him in an instant, heads turning, warriors waiting. He couldn¡¯t leave. Couldn¡¯t try to find her. Would die before he could even leave the school. A Vivid Green began to run down his hand and fall to the grass below. You need to calm down, Hann. ¡°But, she¡¯s just a blacksmith, and she needs me,¡± he turned to the Ranger watching by the door. ¡°Help me, please.¡± ¡°You made your bed, Avendari. And I have my own family to think of. Sorry.¡± She walked out, and the door closed behind her. Glare-Guard continued to watch him. So did their fellows outside. He let his hand come back in. We don¡¯t need her. I¡¯ll help you. We can defeat them. All of them. With the Book. All you have to do is wait. Let your exhausted facets rest. And when the time comes¡­ When the time came, he could go, with his sister in tow. Save their mother. Destroy anyone who stood in their way; no matter how many books he had to open in order to do it. How many ill-fortunes he had to uncover. He would save them. He would not fail. Static. Item attained: Gray Armor of the Fate-Weaver. Skill attained: [Monitor], Level 1¡ª7/7 uses left. Do you accept, Johann Avendari? CHAPTER 16- NATHA/ZETA: AN AGONY OF PHANTOMS II. The first door slid close behind you, locks clinking into place before the small enclosed area subjected you to the coldest air shower of your life, the temporary robe Plea had made for you burning away into nothing as it did so and the black stains on your skin vanishing without a trace. After the shower, a compartment on the blue wall opened up. In it was a green hoody with the Graystone Corporation logo on it¡ªthere weren¡¯t any other options when you bought them wholesale¡ªand gray sweatpants. The air-lock gave you a minute to dress up before the inner door unlocked itself, letting you into the sterile room. The pungent smell of flesh, blood and chemicals coming out the other end was enough to make you cough. Steeling yourself, you went inside, eager to save Zeta before it was too late. Rapid blinks soothed your eyes after a flash from the too-bright lights of the room. The only sound that came from the OrganGens at the center was a constant buzz. Billion-dollar worker bees made entirely of Core-stone. Walking toward them and the half-formed man they surrounded, you laughed. Why did every single sophisticated equipment in the sea-damned safe-house produce some of the most insufferable sounds you¡¯d ever heard? They hadn¡¯t ever bothered you that much before your last jack-in, so why¡­ Because for all of Oshveperthe¡¯s faults, first among them being its association to Mattheus, you had fallen in love with it. Made it your home. And no sounds like these existed there, not unless you went to one of the Sky-Cities, the Techno-Guild¡¯s estates or the Danjunai, but even they were less annoying¡ª Focus. One machine focused on threading the chest, the second on threading the final touches on his head, while the last worked on exorcising the latest of the tumors, this time below the kneecap. Near-latest. Another was already forming just below the skin of the calf. You needed to act quick. Facets empty of Techno-Mana, you sought after the mystic energy which most used to power their abilities. You found it in the Startrap; one of the paths Vocatian trod when they created all that was in the First Plane. The Path known for favoring regeneration in it¡¯s God-Skills and Arch-Classes. Mending. The light green energy let you take it, knowing what you wanted it for. Knowing it could do what you wanted it to do, if you had the capabilities for the art. If your soul and your body were primed for it. The Healing God-Skill? It must¡¯ve been. You hoped to the Prime-Walker above it was. The energy went into your Weight Facet, warming you with its grace. The mystic threshold of your Weight was vast. Untold millennia of ascension and leveling had made sure of it. But the God-Skill you sought to use was one you¡¯d acquired recently. One you¡¯d leveled only once since. The amount of energy it would take to use it once was a fraction of what your Weight or what your Body could contain. Therefore, you began to break down the Techno-Mana as soon as it started manifesting in your Eighth Facet. A far more stable version of it started to form. Energy Artifica. Body absorbing it like a sponge, you watched the buzzing Equipment mold your father. You watched them stave off the mutation. You watched them start to fall behind.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The little energy you¡¯d broken down completed the transfer. Barely a drop in the bucket that was your body¡¯s threshold. You took it, morphed it into the God-Skill, and aimed the formed Stormbolt at the Uplyfting Systemborne. The machines stopped buzzing. Backed away from the man. The too-bright light started to dim, flickering every few moments. His body began to mold itself, skin grafting itself on the remainder of his face, muscles and lungs fully forming in his chest, the swellings along his legs shrinking and shrinking till they were no more. You¡¯d done it. You¡¯d healed him. He fell onto the white, tiled floor. Glowing feet darting, you managed to catch him before his upper body took to the ground. His eyes started to open. He gazed at you with quick blinking eyes. ¡°Tolemvaria,¡± he said. Heart beating as loud as the beeping ventilator, you said; ¡°it¡¯s me, Zeta. It¡¯s me.¡± He smiled, trembling hand going to your shoulder and gripping it. ¡°What happened to your¡­ to yo- Aaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhh!!!¡± He screamed. Because of you. Tiny rivulets started to form on his face, and his chest and his legs, and his eyes. They burst apart, forming dents, leaking pus, damaging his cornea. He closed his eyes, hands moving to press against them. The Solemn-Body Mutation was contagious. The mutated almost always infected other people after turning. Every cell in your body begged you to run, to leave him and keep from the unstable merging of your Soul and Mind Facets. But you couldn¡¯t leave him, this man you¡¯d never expected to meet. The only worthy parent you¡¯d ever had. The type of person you¡¯d done your best to emulate for your own child. Your father. How could you leave him? Where there was pus and dents, new rivulets started to grow, but these ones didn¡¯t burst. They kept growing and growing, hardening as they ballooned. And he kept screaming, scratching at his face and his arms, leaving bloody marks in his own flesh as it continued to deform. ¡°What¡¯s¡­ happening?¡± He asked between screams of torment, trying to rise from the ground, but failing. Tossing himself this way and that, like a hooked fish pulled out of the water. Trying to stop it, you made some more Energy Artifica, but it wouldn¡¯t turn into a Healing Storm-bolt. It wanted to activate another God-Skill. One which could help. One which you didn¡¯t have. You started to weep. Zeta¡¯s skin was starting to glow. The soul. He didn¡¯t have long, now. You didn¡¯t have long. If you let him complete his transformation, hunters would take notice, some in the employ of Graystone Corp. The safe-house would be compromised. But, he was your father. You couldn¡¯t kill him. Then what? Endanger the mission? Endanger your wife and the rest of the crew? Plea had already left. Would you survive losing the others too? You slapped yourself. Think. How could you save him? What hadn¡¯t you tried yet? Writhing on the floor, he continued to scream. Then, you realized, you knew someone who could help. A foe who¡¯d lived far longer than you have in all your years before he¡¯d ever even met you. Someone who could help heal him. ¡°QIATHUMARIEL!!!¡± CHAPTER 17- NATHA/QITHA: A GRAVE OF HELLIONS. Answer, Sea damn you. ¡°Qiathumariel!¡± You yelled out. ¡°Qiathumariel!¡± Five minutes since you¡¯d started calling out for him. Two since Zeta had lost consciousness and was mumbling in his torturous slumber, mouth lost inside two irregular tumors formed at each of its sides, threatening to tear out of his skin. He was watching, you knew. Had probably felt your first uttering of his name seconds before you¡¯d done it. Was probably deliberating with his System-borne wife, Apricot, on how to approach this matter. If it needed approaching at all. ¡°I know you hear me, Old Green,¡± you said, cradling Zeta¡¯s heating head. ¡°Help me. Please, Qitha.¡± Was he listening? You wondered. Maybe you were wrong. Majority of his time was spent in Oshveperthe these days. Why would he be listening to the rumblings of the world above when he no longer cared for it? Suddenly, you felt foolish for thinking otherwise. For yelling out like an old man seeking the help of a former teacher who¡¯d been sadistic at the best of times. Why would he even help if he¡¯d been listening. If your positions were changed and he were the one asking out for your help, you wouldn¡¯t give it. You¡¯d let him suffer alone. Let him kill Apricot, or Forest alone. And laugh while he did it. Your father suffered for nothing, red, hot deformed flesh dancing like a parasite lived within it as it continued to multiply. Smoke was starting to form from him. The Sterile room let its alarms boom in warning. It was time to cut your losses. Kill Zeta before a mutation was detected. It was the only thing to do. The only thing you could do. Your legs still glowed a bright purple. The door to the Wellspring of the Star-Trap was still open, even if you hadn¡¯t drawn from it since the God-Skill had backfired. There was energy there. Energy that could be used to do what needed to be done. Energy that wanted to be used. It was time. With a deep breath, you let that Techno-Mana in, red and sizzling. The God-Skill you¡¯d wanted to use before had been a recent addition. One that hadn¡¯t needed the full-breadth of your potential. But the one you wanted to use now had kept you company for generations. Since before Mattheus stole the Graystone name and started a Corporation with it. Since before you¡¯d met Qiathumariel. It had been the first God-Skill you¡¯d attained after you¡¯d stumbled from the God-Path; after you¡¯d become a [Hellion]¡ªthough you¡¯d never used it before. [Fires.Of.Pluto], it was called; Level 51¡ªand it required all of you, all that you were capable of, to work. The Core-Stone around everyone¡¯s rooms would keep them safe. You and Zeta and the rest of the Planet, on the other hand. Only those with bunkers or those powerful enough to withstand it would survive. Azymandia would continue the mission. Pay the Price for you. For Plea. Break the Foundation. Defeat the Graystones. You sent out the distress call. The Red filled the entirety of your Weight, and the conversion process began. Energy Artifica bloomed within your Body and soon enough, the Conversion was complete. A bump had already began to form on your hand. Feeling at it, your eyes found Zeta¡¯s... They were open. Visible. Healed. The swelling; it was going down. The burning mountains above his mouth, growing colder and smaller. As was the rest of them. All shrinking. All becoming obscure. Even the bump at the back of your hand was retreating, slow and steady. There were still dark-purple bruises painting the once-swollen areas on the skin, but he looked far better than he did a minute ago. ¡°Zeta,¡± you smiled. ¡°You were really going to do it, weren¡¯t you?¡± He said, and your smile faded. ¡°Take the whole planet down with you.¡± He rose from your lap gazing around at the room, as a white robe started to form around him. ¡°Qitha,¡± he stood from the elevated floor and you followed suit. ¡°And Apri, she¡¯s watching through my eyes¡­¡± he said. ¡°Well, your friend¡¯s eyes.¡± ¡°Get out.¡± ¡°First you call me here, then you tell me to leave,¡± Qitha said. ¡°All while trying to go No Witnesses on the whole korring planet. A simple knife to the throat would have sufficed, you know that, right. No need for Pluto¡¯s soul-killing fires when your soul is only one small step from destruction.¡± ¡°I said, get out of him!¡± ¡°Oh, he¡¯s fine. I need his body if we¡¯re going to talk. Make a deal.¡± ¡°Make a deal?¡± He nodded. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°For what? We don¡¯t need anything from you,¡± you said, even as a small sliver of doubt started to creep in. ¡°My skill worked.¡± At that, he laughed. ¡°That dainty thing couldn¡¯t have worked if the Prime-Walker came down and used it themself. All it did was act the catalyst. Speed up the mutation. Make the merging even more unstable, if that was possible. You had two hours before it. Now you have sixteen minutes, at best.¡± Sixteen minutes. ¡°He¡¯ll be alright.¡± ¡°Yes, he will. If we make a deal. If you let me help,¡± Qitha said. You looked at Zeta¡¯s face, being used by someone very different from him. Someone you despised. A mockery. How could you let him stay? Let him use Zeta like that. He can help him. Can save him. The reason you¡¯d called for the damnable man in the first place. But you hadn¡¯t expected him to possess the System-borne. It was unjust. Cruel. ¡°And if I refuse?¡± ¡°Then, I¡¯ll leave you to your planet-killing. And the mutation I¡¯m keeping at bay will come back in full force. For you. For him.¡± Because of you. ¡°Tell me what you want.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Fifteen minutes lay between you and the possible full mutation of one of the only people you cared for. Fifteen minutes of being beholden to one among the myriad of those you¡¯d wanted to kill in the most painful of ways. Fifteen minutes. And he stayed quiet tapping at one of the OrganGens, watching it move away from him as if annoyed. ¡°Qiathumariel?¡± He turned to look at you. ¡°Mmmmh.¡± ¡°The terms? What do you seek from me.¡± ¡°You already know what I want.¡± ¡°If it is those OrganGens, then you can have them. Now, rid him and I of our malady, quickly.¡± ¡°Funny things, these OrganGens. A millennia since their creation and not a single upgrade since. They keep changing the skin. Keep making them look different, so the unaware can hand over the credits, but might as well be static,¡± he said. ¡°Do you think me, a fool?¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re selfish enough to kill an entire planet with you needlessly. Scratch that¡ªI know because I almost witnessed it happen. But no, I don¡¯t think you a fool,¡± he said. ¡°You know what I want.¡± Qitha walked over to the air-lock¡¯s inner door and put his hand on the module next to it. The screen flashed in red. ¡°Were you intending to trap him here?¡± Fourteen minutes. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware, Qitha, but normally, when someone wants to strike a deal, especially in a time-crunch, they say what they korring want!¡± He put his hand on the module again. Flashing red. ¡°But, you already know what I want, Nathaniel.¡± This was going nowhere. You tried a different tact. ¡°It¡¯s alright if you didn¡¯t come prepared, you know. No rush. I¡¯ll let you think it over; after you¡¯ve completely healed us, that is.¡± He turned back to look at you. ¡°Heal your bodies. I think we have a misunderstanding. I could heal your bodies, if I wanted to. But that¡¯s not what I¡¯m offering. The deal, on my end, is simple. End the mutation, save your souls by destroying your minds. You might survive it, form a new facet while still here and be able to stay, but Zenda¡¯Ataru won¡¯t. His soul will get to move on, though; to the Prime-Walker¡¯s domain¡ªinstead of dying here to Pluto¡¯s fire.¡± Sea-damned Hellion. ¡°That isn¡¯t what we agreed to!¡± He tried his luck with the module again. Another red flash. ¡°We haven¡¯t agreed to anything, yet,¡± he said. ¡°And I¡¯m getting tired of this routine, Natha; but you know what I want.¡± Twelve minutes. You charged at him, taking him by the collar of his robe and pressing him against the hard-glass window of the inner door. His eyes darted up to the ceiling, before coming back down to meet your glare. He let out a laugh. ¡°Heal his body!¡± ¡°The one you¡¯re actively bruising as we speak, that body?¡± Qitha asked, and you punched him. Punched Zeta. He laughed again as you backed away. Eleven minutes. ¡°Please heal him,¡± you said after a moment. ¡°If any part of you has ever cared about me, Welimirua; heal my father. Please.¡± A heartbeat passed. Two. Three. Gazes locked as he considered, or you hoped he did. ¡°No,¡± your heart fell. ¡°But I can change the terms.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Switch places with him. Bodies. And when I kill your minds, heal your souls¡­¡± ¡°The body I¡¯m in dies, so I move on to the Soul Plane.¡± ¡°While I help him make a new Mind facet here. He lives. You die.¡± ¡°And if the mutation in this body persists? If it gets worse instead of better?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have been gone by then. So, I¡¯ll heal him. Make sure he comes out of it, whole,¡± Qitha said. Nine minutes. ¡°Don¡¯t want around here, that much, huh?¡± You asked. ¡°You gave her my last name, Natha. Made my front door her spawn-point. Why?¡± Because I wanted you to stop me. ¡°She¡¯s one of my wife¡¯s recruits. I wanted Oshveperthe all too myself. Zima wanted me to have backup. The most powerful Pillar of Cho is too dangerous in her eyes. So I gave Forest your name, sent her off to you, figuring you¡¯d get agitated and kill her or something. Didn¡¯t expect you to grow a conscience in the last minute. Decide to take a new born in as your own.¡± Eight minutes. ¡°And what did you do today?¡± Qitha asked. ¡°I was born in the wrong era, as Tolemvaria. My mother has decreed that Aristocracy has come to an end in the Seas of Oshveperthe. She is to be the last monarch born for the throne. One of her apprentices has already won the election. And I need the Ocean in my hands if I¡¯m going to fan the flames of war against the other Pillars; so I... got an idea and ran with it. Didn¡¯t expect her to show up. Didn¡¯t expect Zeta to show up either.¡± Because of you. ¡°Need I say more?¡± Seven minutes. ¡°No. I know what you want. I know why you¡¯re here. To take her. Keep her away from bad company.¡± ¡°I want more than that. Don¡¯t give a Korr what you do to the other pillars, but stop fanning war at my home.¡± ¡°Well, considering it also happens to be one of Mattheus¡¯ homes. And I happened to have killed him; that¡¯s going to be a little tough.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Hellions can¡¯t die unless all their people are dead, or their home is a walking hell-scape. The price must be paid, or the Universe falls.¡± ¡°Not necessarily. I have never known the Universe to fall, have you? It¡¯ll correct itself with or without your help, whether that means killing you, or bringing back the Prime Hellion from death.¡± Six. ¡°The bastard has to stay dead.¡± ¡°Is his death more important to you than your father¡¯s life?¡± Qitha asked. One heartbeat later, you shook your head. ¡°What of Azymandia?¡± ¡°What of Azymandia?¡± ¡°She wants Graystone Corp dead and buried. It¡¯s not going to happen if one of the Pillars they stole from her ancestor is still operational under their purview. Making them powerful.¡± ¡°Then steal the pillars.¡± ¡°Kind of hard, considering they¡¯re hidden across the galaxy.¡± ¡°Harder than waging war across the Seven Pillars of Cho?¡± ¡°Actually, yes.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her. After you¡¯re gone,¡± Qitha said. ¡°Do we have deal?¡± You nodded. He turned back to the airlock, ¡°Now, Apri.¡± The module flashed green. You moved back to the elevated central ground as the door hissed open. The outer door opened a minute later. Despondent, you waited for your bodies to switch. It didn¡¯t feel real. That you were about to die. Even though the fires had been poised to burn way sooner than. You imagined Azymandia coming back, seeing Zeta. Thinking it was you. Decided to call her, but thought better of it. One minute and she would convince you to turn back the deal. It couldn¡¯t happen. Zeta had to live. Even if it meant not saying goodbye. Even if it meant being selfish, in a way. One minute went by. Then another. Before you started doubting your former teacher. Had he lied? Taken Forest and run without fulfilling his promise. Without leaving the body he¡¯d possessed¡ªZeta¡¯s body¡ªat the safe-house. You stood up, ready to leave the room, see what the delay was, when you had the outer door open. A minute later, the inner door opened as well. In Qitha came, and he was smiling. No. Not Qitha. ¡°God-Skill attained: [Facet.Unmerging] Level 1, 7/7 uses left. Full Class attained: [Phantom], Level 1. Do you accept¡­ Nathaniel Oheritas?¡± You walked over to the System-borne, careful to catch any of your old teacher¡¯s tricks. ¡°Zeta?¡± ¡°It¡¯s me, Tola,¡± he said, and you hugged him. ¡°I thought you were¡­¡± ¡°He changed his mind while coming back up here. Something about the stairs being too many. Told me to tell you to keep your word.¡± You looked him in the eyes again. It was him. It was him. He was alive. ¡°Do you accept?¡± ¡°I accept,¡± you started walking toward the door. ¡°[Understood]¡± ¡°I have so much to show you...¡± CHAPTER 18- LEAH/APRI/QITHA: A CELEBRATION OF FOREST-FOLK. All Leah could do after reading the admission letter was give it a disbelieving stare. The end was nigh. The sky was opening up, threatening to eat her alive. For she was now a Pebble. That¡¯s what the letter said. It mentioned her name, Leah Cheretesha, and said she was now one of the students of the most illustrious school in all of Oshveperthe. One among the Harubridgium Pebbles. The nine-year-old¡¯s grandparents stared at her now, in the confines of their lodge¡¯s dinner chamber, waiting for her to speak, to relate to them the content of the most important letter of her life. The only important letter in her life, as a matter of a fact. She knew her silence was killing them, these beings who, she knew, had the Patience of the Slumbering Mother herself, but what was she to say? One moment they¡¯d been eating their fried meat and veggies, laughing and talking about the Halfling Troupe that had come to their village and put on a show for his tenth nameday, and the next, a letter had appeared in the air, shimmering in gold, fluttering down, about to enter her soup and ruin it¡ªshe would¡¯ve tried to eat it anyway, and like many times in the past, her grandfather would¡¯ve stopped her¡ªbefore her amber-skinned grandmother Apricot had caught the already-dulling document and offered it to her. Leah had gulped, taken the envelope, removed the letter within, read it, and now, a moment later, was expected to leave her home immediately and make her way to the north-eastern shore where a charted, flying, crimson ship would be waiting to take her, and those like her on the Forest Continent, all the way off to the Communion and the Harubridgium owned caravan of carriages that would be waiting on that continent¡¯s shore, ready to take them further in, to the Boarding School at the Communion¡¯s very core. What was she to say? The Pebble prepared her statement, cleared her throat and¡­ Started to bawl her eyes out. Stop. What are you doing? She was the granddaughter of a [Hellion] and a [soul-mind.system]. A child of the forest. A pebble of the Harubridgium. She wasn¡¯t supposed to cry, especially after she¡¯d gotten what she¡¯d wanted. Especially after she was one step closer to walking the God-Path of the [Graystone]. Yet, the tears just kept on coming, compounding till she was wailing like an infant. Till her mother was cradling her, telling her it was alright, that they could apply for all the other prestigious schools, maybe try to reapply for this one next autumn. She tried to tell the orange woman she¡¯d actually gotten in, but her sobs wouldn¡¯t let her, words coming out unintelligible and pathetic. Soon enough, she felt a nudge at the back of her hand. She opened her eyes, an inkling. Her father, kneeling next to her seat, waving the letter, a kind smile on his face. She knew what he was asking. She nodded. He began to read it, and at some point frowned before understanding dawned and he let out a chuckle, patting her back. A yell from Apricot. Qiathumariel, explaining himself. Leah closed her eyes shut, did not want to see her mother¡¯s ire, the kind the older woman only let out when she thought the child wasn¡¯t there. Another laugh, from her mother this time round. She wasn¡¯t angry. Tentative and careful, Leah opened her eyes, found them both gazing at her. No anger, only delight. ¡°Did you read it carefully, Luthumi?¡± Apricot asked, laughter in her voice. The child sniffled, wiping her eyes while nodding. ¡°I did. I did. Stop laughing at me!¡± Great. First she¡¯d been crying like an infant, now she was throwing a tantrum like one. The day had started out great but it was now morphing into her greatest bane. ¡°We weren¡¯t laughing at you, sweetheart. We were simply¡­¡± the Pocket System looked at her husband for support. ¡°Laughing at the situation,¡± he added, with the dumbest look on his face. Her grandmother frowned, seeming to deflate. ¡°At the situation. At the situation! Really, Qitha?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°I just thought, ah, You know I¡¯m not the best of li--¡± Her hand glowed a pale red, blue eyes following not long after, before she took the empty envelope and threw it at him, the rune imprinted on her blouse adapting a mute golden shimmer. The envelope morphed as it glided in the air, taking the shape of a small, wide man in a blue long-skirt, a baggy shirt made entirely of leaves and a white mask with black markings. The doll they¡¯d bought for her at the fair the day prior. It squeaked as it met his forehead. Letting out the most exaggerated scream in his entire career, the performer closed his eyes and let himself fall onto the wooden ground, right onto the doll, which squeaked again. Despite the simulation of it all, a child ranger giggled, and a grandfather failed at stopping his mouth from forming a smile. Apricot pointed a thumb at him. ¡°This man. If he doesn¡¯t make it, Luthumi, what say you help an old lady carry the body out to the pigs before we continue with our meal.¡± She offered her pinky and Leah locked it into hers with a grin. ¡°Deal.¡± An instant later, her grandfather¡¯s upper body jolted up, with a deep inward gasp, like a corpse brought back from death, and she screamed before laughter took over. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Apri; but pigs. I¡¯ll have you know, the best actor in the world requires a decent burial with a gravestone made of Thurefalium, at the least¡ªalright.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not even the best actor in this room, old man; what¡¯s this talk of Thurefalium?¡± Leah giggled, as her parents devolved into an argument. She was in Apricot¡¯s arms. Home. Not alone. What would she do when she got to the school? When there was nobody like them there? The child grew quiet, and not before long, her guardians grew quiet as well, before Qitha nudged at her arm again. She looked up at him. ¡°Everything alright, Luthumi?¡± He asked. ¡°It going to be the same there.¡± ¡°What will?¡± ¡°They call me Qaweno¡¯Lutusi.¡±¡ªOverthrower¡ª¡°Lavinius and the other children. Some of the grownups. It¡¯s going to be the same over there.¡± ¡°Foolish people with lazy minds. Don¡¯t take anything they say seriously.¡± ¡°Qitha!¡± Apri yelled again. ¡°What. Am I wrong?¡± ¡°No, but have you taken into account the child you¡¯re saying all that to.¡± Child. The word hit her like a boulder. It shouldn¡¯t have. It was what she was. So, why¡­ ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m pathetic.¡± She gazed back at the ground. ¡°What brought this on?¡± He asked. ¡°The letter. I wept because of it. The thought of being alone. They make fun of me here but at least you¡¯re with me. It¡¯s pathetic.¡± ¡°I cry sometimes. You¡¯ve seen me cry sometimes. Do you think I¡¯m pathetic?¡± Her eyes gazed up at him again. ¡°Never. You¡¯re Qiathumariel Cheretesha, strongest Hellion in the Galazy.¡± Her grandfather laughed ¡°Slumbering right. And you¡¯re Leah Cheretesha, daughter of the System and the Hellion. And the school covers an entire mountain. You¡¯ll find your pack amongst its Pebbles; human or not. People you can cry with. People who will know you¡¯re strong, and help you grow stronger, just as you¡¯ll do with them. All you have to do is try. Put yourself out there.¡± ¡°And if the first among the Pebbles you meet are like Lavinius, just remember, their words are like the fog. Without weight,¡± Apri said. ¡°And if they use the language of the fist, let yours talk; loudly.¡± ¡°Apri!¡± He said with a smile. ¡°Hush, now,¡± she smiled back. ¡°You didn¡¯t train her for nothing.¡± ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to leave just yet?¡± ¡°The Acceptance letter doesn¡¯t expire for another year. And they always have a charted ship, crimson or otherwise, near the continent. What¡¯s one more summer?¡± ¡°I just didn¡¯t want to leave this second,¡± they threw her quizzing looks. ¡°The letter said ¡®immediately¡¯.¡± ¡°No, Luthumi. They do that to everybody. Why would anyone ever let their child leave for the school at the dark of night; in winter, no less.¡± She said. ¡°Besides. I don¡¯t think the [forest.queen] would ever forgive us if we let you leave before Declathean¡¯s Week. Especially if there was trouble to be had that she could help with.¡± Leah sighed. ¡°Good. Good.¡± The World had knocked, but it didn¡¯t need her to pack her bags just yet. She ended up staying the year, and more besides, when the Queen Lavinia, as predicted, didn¡¯t let her leave before the following Declathean¡¯s week, helping smooth things over with the Harubridge Guild in exchange. They celebrated the first [forest.king]¡¯s original coming, and they celebrated her leaving, friends and all; including him and his gang of fools. Her people. Her Celebration of Forest-folk. And when the world knocked on her door a second time round, a Ranger was more than ready to answer.