《Heaven's on Vacation》 Prologue : Through the Ages Circuits surged, muffled by a distant explosion. Wire revealed from the torn metal, electricity sparked between thick lines. The ceiling shuddered. Water gushed from the broken wall. It happened too fast-- a single second, a momentary spark. He saw the light illuminate the water, the pain surging from within. The smell of burnt meat came after. He screamed; a distant high cry? Throwing him into confusion, the pain radiating all over, until the touch of warm air, the gentle kiss of needles quelling the shakes, a soft hum snuffed the rest. He tried to open his eyes, but to no avail, swollen; puffy and numb, that if any color appeared through it was only a blur. Noises came, but they were eerily unfamiliar; voices of a foreign dialect. A breath cast it all aside, clearing his mind. He was... alive?! The base had withstood the bombardment? He was saved? He tried to move his arms, but even a finger proved to be too much. Just how many painkillers was he on? Scared, and no doubt crippled. If he recovered; to see even the light of day? Would it matter? The short time took more out of him than he thought. But something came to him, he suddenly felt small. The touch of giants nestled his form, his delirium no doubt. A voice slowly became clearer than the rest, once strong, slowly drowned to a whisper as he squirmed. A touch of warm water dripped on his cheek. The faded sigh of the summer wind and the pounding beat echoed in his ear thereafter, lulling him to sleep. Perhaps after this all, he would be able to see the damage. The realization of how much he had to bear? Or the painkillers might fade for his agony to return before long? For the moment he was at peace, the dreams beyond calling. The present could wait, he''ll deal with the consequences in the future, for now, he enjoyed his time of bliss, and faded, to rest. # # # It was the third day he saw the light, the world, the two giants staring over him, carrying him in swaddled cloth. A short-brawny man, smiled like a madman; unused to showing teeth. The other, a slightly taller woman, her appearance was worn, tired, but through it he saw the unending toils, content with life. She smiled, a small, subtle thing-- his heart picked up, and formed one of his own. Letting him pass the days in a whirlwind of thoughts. What was this place; a dream, delusion, imagination...? The woman picked him up and supported him in the crook of her arm. The man''s ashen fingers traced his head as he couldn''t control the giggle. But did it really matter? His heart was unable to bear if it did. Alone no longer. Beyond the fear of the unknown-- beyond what he knew, there was no demand for his life. Nothing to push, nothing to pull, there was only bliss and a family to call. Sometimes he wished he could relive those days. Of being a babe in his parents'' arms, to the first spark of the forge, and the heavy weight of the hammer. The smiles were constant then, but nothing lasts forever, he only wished, he had a little more time... # # # "Where is the boy called Adam Haroak!" Sir Rowth commanded, reinforcing his voice with mana. Giving it purpose, power-- birds flew from the nearby forest. He wouldn''t be here at all if it wasn''t for the mandate, and the wizard towers'' insistence... and the Brotherhood... and-- he sighed. They were all a pain to even an ogre''s ass, but he would never say it. No, that''s for the young Lords and Ladies to grace his day. He was just a simple knight, doing the duty by which his Lord had been commanded, and then delegated gracefully. The thought irked him a bit, no matter how fair his Lord was. Two months of riding on a common mount; best horse in the five lands they said. Clearly swindling some manner of servant set to procure the mount, no matter their acumen, such creatures were still far lesser than the superior breeds of the Snub Horn Unicorn-- fine specimens, they are. Why, Rowth would think that these two months could be put down to one, if his Lord would just let him part with one of the pair. But, no, they were still trying to get the pair to produce a foul, even with the countless failed attempts. Dissuading all common knowledge of countless other Counts that failed to gain an offspring, there was a reason why only the Royal House was capable, and stayed their hands as their arbitrator of balance in between the inner territories. His Lord was smart, but blinded by greed made the man act like an idiot. A commotion brought him out of it, the little village square was situated around the well. The folk whispered behind the corners of their fairly built abodes of stone and wood. Nothing was really new there though, even upon this new land to survey. However, he had the seamstress of the village standing next to him with a betrayed hint of worry. The younger woman kept biting her lips, holding the slab of wood that held her papers, a "binder" they called it. Holding her apparent drawings of dresses and needle work. Something quaint, it was no book, but interesting nonetheless this far on the edges of civilization. He watched as a couple appeared, bringing them along a boy, perhaps no older than fourteen. The boy''s father pushed him along with thick soot hands, calm. His wife was unease; tension in the shoulders, but the boy was handling himself fairly well though. Let''s hope something good would come out it. "Greetings Sir Rowth, I am Ewan Haroak." The man motion to his wife, "This is my wife Wren H--" "I know of your family smith, there is no need for introductions as I am sure you know why I am here." Sir Rowth interrupted, silencing the family. As he bore no blue cape, but still dawning his shining grey armor, it was not conscription. He made sure to eye the boy, motioning to the "binder." "Did you make this?" "Yes... Sir, Knight?" The boy stammered a bit, no matter. "On your own, no one''s ideas or help in its craft?" He pressed. "No, Sir." The boy''s voice was more certain, and the hope that he might get something good out of this stepped up by just the slightest bump. "It takes quite a mind to come up with perspective ideas. One that needs to be focused, and trained for the better." Upon his shoulder he carried his pack, retrieving a metallic ball, outlined where a hand should be placed. He held it out, inviting the boy to the outline. "Should an opportunity present itself?"You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Rowth saw the boy blink, perhaps thinking of a myriad hopes. Internally he smirked. "Sir Rowth, please I beg of you, he''s our only child." The boy''s mother protested, insolent. "The village--" "Silence!" Mana flooded pathways, his voice boomed, louder. He hated it, it always made him crave some water afterward. There was a flicker of annoyance, as Rowth pushed forward a projected force, a gust of energy sent the woman topping on her behind. "There will be no questioning of the mandate, if I so much as hear one more word-- I shall personally take you to Tellovine, and have you stand before its court and pronounced defiance of the Enlightened Charter. Where I shall speak no lie, and wage my status. "Do I make myself clear?" He peered at her directly, the rough woman sat in a daze. Sweat beat down her brow. It was enough. Her husband tensed, all his muscles coiling to rigid metal. Rowth raised a brow, internally he thought of a minor ''altercation'' that could take place and scoffed. The man was built, but still not Ascendant. Weak like the rest of this dull village, but at least he knew the situation. And that, was commendable. "Place your hand upon the orb child." Rowth spoke plainly, seeing the boy whip his head abruptly, murder in his eyes. He allowed it, only for his age and the boy''s mother. The seconds dragged on, Rowth''s expression hardened, thinking that he would need to force the boy, but he calmed. Taking the final step to place his hand upon the orb. There was a sharp click, the boy''s eyes widened as the sudden influx of pain set him to his knees. The orb spun, ticking-- spitting out a long slip of paper lined with symbols and numbers. He frowned, there was nothing special about the boy. Then perhaps something more natural? Rowth put his hand on the boy''s head, their eyes met for just a moment before he sent a surge of mana into the boy''s system. He screamed, howling as reminded himself to tune it out. He surveyed, pushing through the boy''s pathways. Before his frown deepened, and let the boy fall flat. Rowth took a step back, "Pathetic. Not a morsel of talent." He turned to the village leader, behind him, and called. "Are there any others of age?" "No, Sir Knight. All the children are less than twelve, or had seen the previous knight." The old man said, bowing slightly. Adequate. "Very well, I shall stay no longer." He whistled and called the horse to gallop around the bend. He hoisted himself upon the saddle, peering at the smith holding his boy, his wife on her knees crying. Hysteria seemed to run wild whenever he came, because, in all his years, not one child had died under his tests. It was nearly an insult, but with the bare grace of knowledge that it was only the boy''s family who made a commotion set aside the issue. They spoke no words, so he gave no command. Leaving on his horse on the quick gallop. With some luck he''d make it to his next mark by nightfall. He hated camping under the stars. # # # 673 Years Later
[Bridges Apart] Type : World -- Grand Sequence : Final ... Objective : Conquer the [Wo''lnix Dungeon] ... Time : 068:27:34:02 (In Progress)
"Percy!" Adam yelled, straining in the center of the formation. His Armor cracked, the stylized plate of a white knight faded to gray as the crystlline processors burnt themselves out. Smoke escaping his joins, a smell of torched metal in his helm. The formation shuddered, another sector went off line. The dungeon lost itself to another rift in space. Unable to be reinforced by Adam''s near depleted mana reserves. Yet he didn''t care. His head craned up, to the podium admits the wide hall. The exit portal at the center. And the traitors on the edge, sneering down. The Witch of Destelwood. The Godling of Fire. And the prodigal scion of the Winds himself, the genius of the era-- the bastard. "It would be best," the shattering of space didn''t stop his words. "If you would have some dignity, after all the lives you''ve ruined." He spoke, knocking an arrow to his ethereal bow of the Seven Winds. Wasting not a second. Firing at one of the central nodes of the formation. Shattering the connection. The outer circle of the formation shattered like glass, along with the walls, whisked away into the spacial twisters. Death was near the boy took his sweet time. Adrenalin pumped, his life flashed before his eyes. All those he would lose if he died... "You... You-- BASTARDS!" He raised his own hope-- and made his own bridge. The formation turned; a circle to a funnel. The hall shattered in an instant, leaving but the podium and portal. Unstable rifts flickered at the edge of stability. The traitors took stance. He shot forward. His metallic soles exploding with energy, appearing before them in a flash. Hand reeled back, pulling his reserves. Ready to break their front and dive through the barrier. The Witch stepped forward, holding a preserved baby Drake by the tail. It''s scales shone bright, a shield enveloped them all and the portal. Three lives lost in the final push, and they still had the nerve to still hold trump cards! Adam unloaded. Big Bang The weight of compressed Laws clashed with the Aspect of the Drake. Brimming with power that would be the envy of the Variant Realm. But neither wavered-- Adam was forced to gamble once more. "Final Stand - Override Pass : Link." He said, before the armor could spout warnings. The inner skeleton clinked it''s gears. Long nails pierced within Adam''s tissue and organs, pumping exuberant concoctions. Overloading his cells; killing them for mana. His fist surged. Armor rattled. A hole cracked in the shield. The Witch staggered with screams of blood. One chance, he peered beyond. Darkness teetering on the edge of his consciousness. Readying a final burst. His sensors flared on high alert. Only to see the Godling and Percy channeling their desperate wills into a final arrow. Fire and Wind came together; a solar flare was born. "Good bye," Percy whispered. And the boy let go. It was too close-- too sudden, another fist was brought forth. The last dredge of a desperate man met the burning light and... failed to met it''s equal. Adam''s momentum shattered with the bridge as the duo took the Witch through the portal. His reserves empty, his systems fading to ''Life Support''. Darkness was near as the portal fizzled out of existence. Wasted beyond reach in the infinitesimal between of unknown eternity, and with it, Adam was gone. # # # He should have never listened to Sigurn. He should have slammed the door in Pierre''s face. And kick Batu from his hermit hut. Regret. Shame. Malice... It was all there was, between the moments of consciousness. His instincts took the rest, reaching for the bland touch of mana, only... there was weight, a pressure on his mind and metaphysical origin. From one thought to another-- it slogged, before his resources regained a tenth of their power, and clarity slowly started to return. But all was not well. A muffle masked the creaking in Adam''s mind. The slipping was erratic, the return, abrupt-- Adam grit his teeth, fighting off the delirium. Anger gave him strength, it gave him the moments to push forward, but it only kept pressing, until rage was not enough, fizzling softer memories, unmoved by the pressure. Titan... His home, and all that he formed from this life was under threat. The traitors still lived-- he needed to go, he needed to come back home. He held off the rebooting the suit. It was his mana sense, the rare moment, his gut instinct warned; the second everything connected, he would be overwhelmed. So he took over, pulling all the mana he could to ward reinforce his mind. Until his reserves were full, and he no longer had an excuse. Moment of courage he forced booted the system-- the holo-visor spewed nonsese, his mind screamed, his teeth grit at the flood of pressure. His minding tearing apart, he "saw" it all, floating within the discord. Color. Mana. Laws. And what he could only assume was Intent, lived a nightmare of a twisted cycle. Fusing, breaking, destroying, creating... He didn''t believe it-- he couldn''t believe it. Yet he kept on staring, analyzing, reflecting all that he''d known. Questioning everything-- How? Why? When? The readings blew warnings. And once more, Adam''s mind creaked. This time, he wasn''t so lucky. Crack. V1.P1 - Chapter 1 : Strangers An alarm chimed; a quarter century passed. The leather creaked, metal shrieked. Adam forgot about the centuries old chair. Gazing to the spread of half-burnt micro bulbs. The numbers fading, letting the last hue of red decay, twisting a knot in his stomach. Today was the promised day. A small lamp stood in the midst of scrambled notes. Papers stacked on high off to the furthest corners, muddled with countless thoughts, a miracle that they hadn''t fallen over. He didn''t need to use such amounts-- the whole process really; the ink, paper, even the desk was superfluous. But he couldn''t shake it, he liked it. Writing, drawing, having a physical substance, there was just something about it. Pushing the shakes away. Against the wandering memories. The Void. Falling over upon himself, his thoughts, his entire world, thrown in disarray; he could barely breathe without a minder. He was less than a babe in knowing his own body. He remembered the solid ground. The shallow cliff he laid upon, the clouds overhead. A burn the first sight of stable color, a touch of rain had fallen. Was it warm, or was it cold? He didn''t know at the time, but the world let him learn again. The days drowning one another. It was cold. He paused-- another deep breath. He couldn''t linger. Thankful for the clarity. Cleared of his shivers, and a night well rested; absent of the jolts and sudden walks. He felt more passion in the day, leaving his heart to pick and unpleasant beat. Soon, it would be... home. And this long, self-imposed exile would cease. The dreary days would end; a return of warm memories, and the hope... That he would not lose himself, again. Blurry memories broke the minutes in mind; only still images and shame. Batu, the Guardians, the look of loss on his boy especially... he couldn''t bare it. Not like this, not when he was broken. There was but a sloppy note left from his escape. Running away to his most secluded lab. Hiding. Going dark. Sealing the cold mountain, leaving but time and crisis for his freedom. Though even in those day, he prayed. Guilt weighed upon him-- he prayed, those doors would never open because they needed him. Because power without sense would hurt everyone he cared for. His hand strayed along the edges of the desk. The nicks were evident. He strained a smile. Until he ran off where the right corner should have been. The smooth grain of wood was cut, charred at a sharp angle, grimacing. Hardlight was a fickle thing. He felt close to a breakthrough, but even after a decade, there was still something missing. Something just out of his reach. A jittering sigh escaped his breath. The last of his work had maxed the [Notes] transfer for the day. It needed to be done, but, he would miss the printed word. With a wave, he controlled his mana to lift the papers into the air. Another, and they were sent off to the far end of the room. A grate opened from a subtle probe, and he released. Letting them fall down into the pit, igniting, incinerating everything with a metallic echo, leaving nothing but specks of ash. A cracking hiss shifted his gaze. The vault door opened, lighting up a stark passage. He rose with a sharp breath. Making sure he had everything stored. Smelling his arm; the faint scent of flowers, a small hint of pride welled up from within, glad he remembered to shower. His clothes were pristine. His hair stylized short and off to the side. His speckled grey beard trimmed, keeping to hard angles his mother had given his father. It was the best he could muster. Heavy footsteps took him to the newly lit hall. A grunt made himself more upright. Stepping beyond the threshold, a shiver trailed his spine. Looking back to the dull room; memories of his insights, turned to refining his creations, to be something more than a quiet existence-- he flipped the switch. The lamp shut off, and the door began to close. There was ten minutes before the power in the passage followed suit. But, maybe a nice walk was just what he needed to settle his heart? If only? # # # Luck is never enough, when the demand is unending. Powerless, helpless, chased to the ends of the world. Breaking hearts at unknown crossroads, masked as dead ends, lingering on the unknowing burden, but resolved for the exchange far too great to realize the simple worth of ancient tales and traditions. Perhaps it would have been better, that it would have been right to discard hope for such legends, so nothing would change, for the few to cherish, and continue a new hope to tomorrow. But the ways of the Spirits were not so easy to ignore. Ingrid reminisced, the days of the Var¨¹r; wanders of the northern passes, guides of the winter''s lost voices. Their hunt, unending, tied to near forgotten trails. A life carved by their fore mothers, to hold fast against lurking chills of the long nights. She longed to return gentler times, but the day would not let her. The sun shone without interruption, piercing though the thick, woven pines. Months of snow layered on some branches, dripping from the scarce day for the Regvic Valley. Mountains cradled the descending rings; sheer cliffs of rock and packed snow encircled the valley, sinking down till the ¨®rgr¨ªmm Ravine, marking the edge of fragmented stories. Deeper underground, endless tunnels twisted between unrelenting beasts that never saw the sun, but would eclipse it''s light. She imagined the sight. Some great leaps from their high alcove; the snow and frost glistening, the peek of green determined to shine. Smiling at the thought. She loved the little trails made by her own adventures, the duty of a trapper she was grateful to prove. Even in this land, where her mind would ache from the constant attention, never knowing the ease of tracking, forever keeping to shallow breaths, there were moments of peace. Savoring days. The world was beautiful in it''s still silence. It was unfortunate that the sky posed a threat to her future. Memories made due. There was much to be done. Away from her musings she trailed behind the concealed cabins and pavilion of pine, to a patch of shade. Frozen over by the water they boiled, the little flakes almost sticking to the ice. Her hands, coated in Sutar; the will of the spirit, thickened, laid on top of the frozen cache. She searched for the edges, enveloping the solid sheet. This was the moment she took hold, for if but a single crinkle was made more than a whisper she could not think of her self as a Wolborn. She enclosed, seizing-- willed-- the ice broke with a muffled wake. Ingrid smiled, it was better. The ice was brushed away from the cured pelt layers. Leaving only the finest working offerings for her family. Their coats were due for a change, and a bit more growth. She held the cuts of a beast that would fell anyone of them by their lonesome. Peerless this land might be, the scattering of their tribe; an ache the cold could never truly dull, her grandmother commanded, and left them in the most desolate land they could still thrive. Away from prying eyes, was hope. And for Alma, there was nothing they wouldn''t give. Crack! Branches shattered-- her peace was broken. Her twin axes took over her hands. The pelts crunched into the snow without care-- instantly her sense spiked, her Sutar flowed. Hearing the tumble and crash, she peered the origin; the coalesced ball of snow, breaking to see a figure groan. "Faeir!" She rushed, uncaring of her steps. Helping him up. "Faeir, what''s happening?" Ulf, scared from a hundred ill-fated hunts spit blood, rose with defiance, his sword glistened, shield chipped. His teeth grit red, struggling to breath. Glaring up the ridge, a single word was all that was needed. "Dragor... His man has found us." Her world shook. A rush of dread flooded her veins, colder than the heartless winds of the frontier. She was forced back-- two blows hit the cabin, knocking down the weeks of snow. A spear cut through. An arm reached out, fighting off the pain. "Sven!" She called, her father rushing up over the ridge once more. The sounds of metal clashed. Leaving to run to her husband''s aid. His legs shook, he struggled to stand even with her support. Their eyes met; with all the love of their first meeting. A gathering from their Sister tribes that neither thought to be so festive, turned with a glance. A word was all he asked for their bond to be forever tied to the Realm of Spirits. They never hoped for so much, but now, there was a truth to their love. A purpose that was greater than one another. A single breath escaped his lips. "Alma..." She looked into Sven''s blue eyes, taking all that she could. A kiss much too quick for her heart. But it gave enough for her Sven to grit his teeth and stand. She yearned, ready to run, her spirit committed to a new motion. A burst of wind, and the sight of her father shattering the woven branches changed it all. Before a few leaps stood a short man. Gruff, but sharp, his appearance unlike anything she ever seen. The shallow tan mixed with his black speckled-grey beard and hair. Stood against her family''s blond hair and light skin. His clothes; buttoned leather, packed and creased with puff, paired with boots outlined a foreign presence. Had Dragor spent his fortunes to hunt them?! Ingrid never would have thought the part. If he still desired a seat on the Durgard Council-- never, it''s not possible? Unless something changed, Grandmother... "Ingrid." Maeir spoke, returned over the cabin to raise Faeir. Sharing a look; one knew by all. Together. Sven rushed around, Faeir took the front. She and Maeir enclosed the sides. The enemy raised a brow, grimacing at the sight of her bloodied father. Their forms flooded with Sutar, sinking the area in a chill; as the snow merged, and the ice took over. Her heart beat with a beast''s fury. Together they would survive, not even the likes of Dragor would leave unscathed. Not when everything was on the line. Their Sutar pulsed as one, linking together, they knew each other-- The Agrio Circle formed. The hunt began. As one they echoed their most profound technique. Igni''s Bite. The frozen ground shattered. A faint wolf''s maw formed over her and mother''s axes. Her father added his triumph. [Frosted Edge] His sword and shield pulsed with a chilling cut. Sven called his own. [Breath of the Jun?r] His spear whistling as the storms of the endless night. Together, they had the will to fell any beast... to see the light of tomorrow, they would end it here... But the man just sighed, "It hasn''t even been an hour... I can''t, I''m sorry for this..." There was a blur-- the circle shattered, and before the pain came to her. The world went dark. # # # "Can you sound this out?" A distant voice trailed her ear. "Re-Ren-aaaaa-g-ade. Ren-a-gade. Renegade." Alma''s voice came sweet. Ingrid could almost imagine her concentrating; her eyes leering. The budding resolve at each turn, till the end, she could hear it, her smile. She felt it like a dream-- her eyes shot open. Ingrid flew out of bed. "Good job." The door to the bedroom shot open. Before the gentle fire, she saw the stranger seated in a chair that they did not craft, rocking back and forth. Alma sat in his lap, nestled in a soft blanket holding a unknown book. "It looks like your mother''s awake, Alma." The stranger spoke with a soft smile. "Would you give us a few moments?" Alma''s snowy hair shimmered with a nod, jumping out and taking the book to her room nearby. The soft click settled some worry. But the man stood motioned her to the dinning table. There wasn''t much room thought. It was a single space, for their gatherings, cooking, and rest area. The few chairs near the fireplace weighted thick blankets and warm furs, the rest were paired with the dinning table. Her eyes drifted to their entrance, a crack letting in light. Dusk was near. She took a seat across from man, tension in her shoulders. The feeling familiar; the hunter turned hunted, and prey. Only this time she couldn''t see a way out, if things should turn... she could only hope Alma remembered her. "Cute kid." Ingrid twitched. "Sorry, I don''t have any alcohol with me." Her heart racing to catch a glimpse of hunter. Where they stood, was it high or low? Maybe... just, she could lead him to something else. Away from her love. "Why are you here?" The man paused. His expression, strange, almost slow; unsure of what to show. Her heart pounded against her chest. The man tried to hide a sneer against his tight lips. She expected something, a flare of Sutar, a harsh retort; men from the settlements never did learn, the weak sent back with bruises. Did they not have ears? Or eyes?! No doubt their loud mouths eclipsed the caravans'' that traded their wares and tales. Countless warnings they gave, yet many still desired to simply take. She thought this man the same, but his eyes didn''t linger here; not in the moment, so far bellow him it was, he looked to the fire, the flicker of flame in his eyes, dancing almost by it''s own whims. She prayed to the Spirits, this man wasn''t a flame. Yet their eyes met, and a frown showed. Her hands gripped the hemp of her pants. Perhaps this is the end, against this man she could not face Dragor, but, if nothing more, at least another prey to take and let her family escape. "Please, don''t take my child." Ingrid pleaded, her eyes bowed. There was no other way. "Anything-- I''ll give you anything you wish, just not my child-- not her, please..." A promise broken before the Spirits would never find love in death. Her ancestors might scorn her, but Sven would understand. Alma is the only thing that mattered. She waited, until she heard a hurl? Her eyes shot up, seeing him out of breath, hand over mouth, pain in his eyes. "Stop. It." He spoke through grunts. "I''m--" the man choked, "not here for anyone. I even don''t know who you people are!" She blinked. Then why... why was he out here? She needed to know. To hear the words, "Your... not one of Dragor''s men?" The man''s confusion came quicker, "Who?" "Dragor; the Frozen Fang of the Borlnn Steeps?" The man was still not there, perhaps "The Grendel on the Bone Throne?" Again, confusion? Who is this man? Ingrid thought. To not know such a cold butcher? Foot steps creaked, Ingrid looked over. Seeing Sven at the edge of battle-- they shared a look, a nod was enough to bring him over. He sat, reaching for her hand. She took it into her own, as some of the tension bled to bliss. Sven looked on, "What will you do with us?" "Nothing?" The man sighed, an arm rested on the table propping up his head. "Listen... I, really don''t want a part in whatever you have going on. I was just out for a walk and--" "A walk?" Sven interrupted. Ingrid squeezed his hand. But the thought was absurd! The man hummed, both of them flinched as he pulled out a strange cube of dark metal. The edges, indented, lit, a shiver trailed their spins, but felt nothing in the way of Sutar. Sweat beat down Sven''s brow. The man''s frown was evident. "Why are any of you even here? By this, none of you should be here, if you came across any of the real dangers of the valley, not even your resonance would do you good." Her hunter''s pride felt shame. Knowing when to end a hunt was the necessity of anyone of their kin. Her grandmother, and a handful more might be able to challenge this land with a honest contest. But if the man knew such things... well, she kept the curiosity to herself. Only she wasn''t quick enough for Sven. She felt it, her eyes shook. The lingering touch of Sutar willed itself over the table. Her minor taps went ignore, Sven''s entire pride put forth in stealth. Perhaps one of best of their generation and the last, if she was so bold. But not this man they couldn''t-- Sven''s Sutar paused-- and shot back. He coughed, reeling. But their was nothing to sense, nothing to know the cause. How? Sven''s hand held a tremor. His shoulder''s looked panicked. They looked to the main, awaiting, until... he laughed? "Ohhh, that was pretty good. You have some talent their Sven." "Huh?" Sven blinked. "Alma told me-- oh. Sorry, been a while." His hand reached over, "Adam. Sorry for the panic." Sven took it, "Yet we''re here." Ingrid elbowed him in the gut, a small whine came as the two men broke. "Yeah.. Like I said, been a while." He looked his hand, grasping. "It''s bit hard to control my output when I''m surrounded." "Then what was the attack on Ulf?" Sven pointed; his eyes sharp. "Sven!" Ingrid tried. "That--" Adam voice shut from a higher tone. He took a deep breath. "No offense, but that man is a lunatic. Three times I tried to explain, but nooo the man just came at with a sword. Cursing like mad man." The man scoffed, "Idiot."Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Ingrid froze, only just holding off from barring teeth. Silence returned to the cabin. Unsure of what to do, what to say. Adam gave a sigh, and whispered. "Probably shouldn''t argue in from of the kid." Her head whipped. Seeing a peeking crack of blue eyes and tiny hands. She smiled, they would talk later. This was much too deranged for the powerful to play, her instincts told, feeling no turn of the heart. Especially with the man''s lack of pride. Her hand broke Sven''s and beckoned her love over. Alma pulled the door, rushing to her mother''s arms. Hoisted up to her lap, the book cradled to her chest-- shoved forward, throwing a leer at the man. Adam kept his smile. With a motion three cups of glass were manifested before them. Sparkling liquid filled with another, faint with some sweetness tickling their senses. Her eyes were locked, transfixed, not by the rarity of glass, nor the faint concentration of Surtar from the drink, no-- [Inventory] rank 3... the memory of her her grandmother recounted. The estranged encounter with a Trial brought her close to losings a leg to gain such a privilege. If this man was more, then... what would a man need Dragor''s attention? The last of her distress whittled away, but before she could "accept" the offering. Alma beat her hands, the glass was emptied before the snatch. "Awwww," Alma whined. Reaching for her glass. Failing. Her eyes sough another-- Ingrid took hers-- Sven snapped his away. Alma whined again. Adam just chuckled. "What is this?" Ingrid asked. A hand over Alma''s mouth kept her down, ready to cough up the contents. "Samosa; a drink from some fruits and a fresh spring." Adam replied, taking out a glass for himself. A crisp breath left his lips as Ingrid watched to the very last drop. "Always bring something nice whenever your far from home... If you can spare the space..." His tone drifting off, reminiscing. Ingrid stared at the drink. For the an old tradition, and confidence in her instincts. She gave thanks to the Spirits, and toasted in their teachings. A sip was all it took, feeling color flushed her cheeks. Sutar perforating her body... such a thing... "Spirits..." Sven muttered. "Why would you offer something like this?" Ingrid held off her curiosity, relenting to Alma getting her glass. The man filled it up absently. Adam shrugged. "I''ll get more soon. But it was mostly for her," he looked to Alma. Filling another glass. "Can''t be good for a child to grow up like this. Something to make it brighter, I guess." The loss hurt her pride as a hunter. But the words he spoke, burned her as a mother. Yet couldn''t find a word otherwise. She looked down, the happy smile as Alma took far too much from the man, finding the truth of what is. "What Chasm have you passed?" Sven asked, looking on. "Sven!" Ingrid gasped. Alma nearly jumped at the words. The man shrugged, "I don''t think I need to say?" Though it felt like the man didn''t want to. "Then, would be willing to offer your hand to our cause." Sven professed, his heart wholly with him. "To free our people from the tyrant of Dragor''s blade?" Ingrid didn''t have a word for his confidence, such boldness... He looked very striking right now. But Adam shook his head, "That I cannot do." And their hopes wilted. "I have my own battles, to have myself out in the open so soon is not something I want, nor should you want. Because if you think things are bad for you now," his expression turned flat. "You don''t want my help." Well... It was worth the question. Despite not having council-- She felt Sutar flare from the next cabin. Adam frowned. "Can''t it ever be quiet around here?" The door burst open, splinters flew, Ulf grit in determination, blade drawn-- a gust of wind blew, and the unyielding giant cracked the floor with his head. "Faeir!" Ingrid shot up with Alma and Sven. Her love was terrified. "Relax, please." With a wave Ulf''s body was lifted and placed in a chair by the fire. Another and the pieces of wood lifted, pieced together the next motion, and then fused, tightened. The frame thinner, smoother, but how? Ingrid stood still, stunned. Sven''s eyes went wide. While Alma''s turned to sparkle at the impossible. The man turned to them, almost sheepishly asked. "So, dinner?" # # # Dinner was served; a tough and weary exchange. Some kind of stew, thick with the smell of meat and herbs sprouting with Ice mana. Paired with some rounds of Samosa, it made a pleasant retreat from the years of nutrient paste. He would have liked to enjoy it more, but despite the silence, and the family whole, the grandparents didn''t care much for his words. They hesitantly took the drink, but anything more? Their poorly hidden frowns were enough to tell. Maybe on purpose? "Are you really leaving?" Alma stopped twirling her spoon. Barely a dent in her food, her seventh drink half empty. She held back; eyes shimmering, chin creased. He felt a vein strain. Control... Emotions were welling up. Nausea setting aside his dinner. He could hold it. "Alma," Ingrid''s hand found her shoulder. "He has his own trails to follow, it would not be kind for him to stay here." "But why?! This is stupid! Why can''t he stay?!" Alma whined, her eyes red. "Alma..." Her voice trailed, trying to find the words. Shooting a glance at Adam. Just what was he supposed to do? "It''s not fair!" Alma shot up. Her grandparents flinched. She hid her tears, taking the book, and ran, slamming her door. He heard a distant scream, muffled by a blanket? A pillow? He didn''t linger, suppressing a groan from the unease. His stomach turn, as the bright little girl learned the meaning of spite. The table sat frozen. But the giant was quick to glare. He was not in the mood, "Don''t." Ulf only leered harder, "Your presence is a toxin." "Why? Cause of that, hardly." Adam scoffed. "None of this would have happened if you just minded yourself and left us in peace." Ulf retorted. Adam huffed a laugh. "You--" Ulf rose. "ULF!" Liv''s Intent pressed on the man. His eye''s darted to his wife. "That''s enough." Their absence of words and mana were a mystery to Adam. But in those seconds; their gazes locked by one another, he at least knew, an argument was had, and the next, it ended. Ulf grumbled, glaring down at his bowl. While Liv''s eyes twinkled with victory. Iov, still the wonder. Out of all the people from the four great continents, Iov remained an enigma to his mind. There was just... something about it, a way, the experience, of life, condensing down to instinct that made the unspoken come alive. Bonded across different territories within, sharing this form of keen awareness. Their ways of mana much more entwined, deeper than he could hope to untangle. Suspicions aside, whether one could hone this instinct was another matter, but for this family, they certainly had it. The Spirit. "We''re sorry," Liv spoke. "Hmmm?" Adam broke the thought. "Oh, it''s fine..." Returning to muse. They weren''t weak, per-say... so-so, their coordination could bridge the gap given the opportunity. They were lacking a bit of direction, but that shouldn''t have been an issue. For such a family, how great was this threat? And, why? "This Dragor, man. What could you tell me about him?" "Well-- I-- Where do you we start?" Liv looked around the room, asking her family. Adam felt a wave of weariness. I guess to the heart of it then. "What does he want with Alma?" The battle field returned, the family brimming with mana; cold and bitter, chilled the roaring fire, frost crept along the edges of the table as their stew froze over. Ingrid took a breath, "Our Alma has a chance..." "Ingrid..." Ulf spoke, his wife hand whittled away his objection. "She bears the signs of our oldest tale." Ingrid regained her composure. "The Touch of Winter. She who is favored by the frost would become its stewart. Gifted the body of ice. Forever cold. Their presence a constant storm. To one day they would not fear the fire descending from the sky, but reach the spirits, leaving a trail of snow in the wake of their last trail... so the tale goes." Adam massaged a headache coming along, "A Constitution... so, young..." The implications crossed a myriad of vile paths. "And, he wants Alma for?" Ingrid bared her teeth, "To marry." "Fuck." Of the many foul thoughts, perhaps it was the least. "The world is still a pile of shit." There was a great breath, a relieved look in the family, but there wasn''t much solace. What words would help? His console? A stranger''s words? He didn''t wish to speak on the matter as he felt the corners of his mind retreating, the view of the world turning distant. They lingered around awaiting, but no answer came. Ingrid took their bowls, hesitant on taking his, but with a great deal of effort, he gave with a smile. But this was no place to weigh such thoughts. His motion was abrupt as all eyes turned, "I''m going for a walk. I shall return within a day." This time, no one made a move to stop him. He closed the door, and walked on the snow. Not a trace of his passing was left, as he set his sights down deep into the howls of the Valley. # # # A Constitution at five... Out of the millions, perhaps billions of lives. It was a tribal girl, and her family of wanderers that were forced to bear the consequences. He did not need to know Dragor. His birth? Ascent? Triumphs? Lineage? Company, nor promises. Because it was all the same, the results-- forcing ruin, making their own turn on one another, just for the sake of another breath for themselves, their friends, their children... The fortunate ones met the edge of a cold blade. The others... mana ground down their bodies, reaching to break their mind and sapped the last dregs of life from their cries. What was left? A pile of soaked rags, and but a man locked in the shadows. Too weak to act, too weak to do anything... He felt his blood rush. His weight faltering against the snow. A hollow chill in corners of his mind. The Void... it''s scars still bore; the highs and lows, lingering beyond it''s time, further to the early days. Running around the continents. Sometimes he wished to forget, but the gifts of the Core Realm went against him. He remembered anyway. Five. In his long life, he met only five children confirmed to have a Constitution before their Rebirth. By luck for one, and a brush with death for another, they were saved, but the others... they were empty promises. "Crap," the thick snow came up to his ankles. A step brought him out of it. Massaging his brow, an exasperated sigh flushed the memories. The world was calm again. He opened his [Inventory], taking out his smart phone. The reinforced glass simmering in the moonlight, the white snow scape blended with the pristine metal casing. It''s been a long time. He held down the power button, and his breath. Countless days and sleepless nights, mana-- ever the wonder, really sped up mundane research. Along with some added benefits; why, he could have dropped this from a mountaintop, down a jagged ravine, and it would still be fine... Maybe some scratches, but it was fine. A diamond came to shone bright, as three rings encircled, pulsing bright. It still worked! Still the old loading screen, much to his dismay; he could draw, but artistry? That was a good waste of a month... The signal connected; his network was still running. Spotty connection, but it was enough. Yet there was nothing. No notifications; no system malfunctions or maintenance required. Nothing needed his hand... He let the tension bleed to thick mist. If all seemed well, did he really need to send a message saying that he would be late? Ah, screw it. What was a day? He put the phone away. Taking out his Manafying Vexicon once more; the dark cub pulsed to life. Adam tunned the mana in his eyes, guaging the right frequency, till a dark screen of white lettering came to. Let''s see here. The range was set, parameters aligned. All it need was a push. Adam summoned his mana; igniting the multitude of Catalytic Mana Nodes. The cube rang, humming, a fifth of his reserves vanished with a wave of mana. The numbers accelerated. Calculating. Before the black screen gave him all he needed, and more... ''Primary Mana Distribution: Ice, Water, Nature, Stone, Lunar, Earth, Magma.'' The general survey noted. Lunar... His eyes widened, turning toward the direction of the cabins. White hair-- no, Silver... It was common enough, a Constitution showing signs; pitch black eyes, blooming muscles threatening to break the skin, saliva dripping with potent poison... but, he had never seen one so, subtle. He would almost say hidden. For Lunar mana to be in abundance... Adam could count on one hand where he had know it to be. Was it the girl? Or was this land already attuned to it''s nature? Was that why they were here? Adam thought, his old discarded thoughts coming forward. The Will of Mana, a vexing concept; was it always set in stone, or could it change? Did it ever? A journey of lifetimes, and still, there was no answer. It didn''t matter. He glanced at the rising moon, and the distant stars beyond. Soon, he thought. There wasn''t a need to care for such answers. Not anymore. He filtered the readings, and found a suitable target. A slight brush set off a chain; his carved pathways churning with mana. A single step cratered the snow, overtaking a pine, he jumped from it''s peak, shaking the years of white and frost, leaving a proud green in the wake of snow. Adam adjusted the Cube''s mapping, show a hint of the world underneath. Not all-- some unknown interference, but enough. The path was just ahead-- he jumped off another peak to his descent, and shot towards the clearing. He slammed down; a whirlwind kicked up the fresh flakes. It wasn''t enough? Again-- The ground echoed a crack and the clearing fell through. Oh, good. He smirked. Taking out a crystal ball from his [Inventory], pouring mana and tying it with a thin string composed of Fire Law. The ground gave way; down into the pit. He could''ve survived the fall-- but his knees! He wasn''t a Body Practitioner. A small propeller of mana made whole from his raised hand. Spinning with the furry of a storm. Slowing his descent, until a gentle touch down. Take a moment to see; a whole new world. Fractiline Ice drooped the walls and stalactites, refracting light, and igniting the rainbow within the cavern. Sharp lines of stone almost seemed to cut through the fine mist of vapor, blocking the encroaching ice. He could not feel it, but there was history here. A meticulous battle for control. Of who? Perhaps no one knew. Adam quickly took some pictures. Before relenting, his target was nearby. A myriad of tunnels connected this place, and a short one brought him to the ends of a hole. The front of a man-sized mole sticking out. It''s silver fur shimmered in the light. Adam took it by the scruff and threw the body into the main tunnel. His steps lacked silence as he walked closer, letting the tremors pass. The wriggling of the fur would have been unnoticeable in the dark, but it could not hide from his mana sense. He stepped forward, leaning in. Teeth burst from the skin, wriggling of flesh and blood. Adam snatched the worm. It squirmed, shrieking, secreting thick coats of mucus to free itself. Luckily enough this thing was weak... weaker than him at least. He squeezed, and with a final cry it''s vessels burst. Spewing poison and blood from it''s round mouth. Adam grimaced, wiping away the vile remnants. Guaging his bounty, then to the corpse it made it''s feast. He shrugged. Why not? A wave brought the dead to his [Inventory], with one task left to finish. He opened his [Notes] with a sense of forlorn. A pen and paper in his hand as he returned to the beautiful cavern. He couldn''t help but frown. He missed the Library. # # # Ingrid felt the touch of another day''s dawn, absent of the joy that was yesterday''s. Alma wasn''t speaking with them. She stuck out her tongue and ran to the shade of the great pines. Head tucked between her knees, hidden from the sky. Ingrid felt her heart strain. Gazing to the far off mountain peaks. Their height stood waiting against dark clouds rolling in from the frontier. It wouldn''t be long, she could feel it, deep within her bones. A storm was coming. Ingrid walked over and settled with Alma. A hand brought them closer. Her little one didn''t try to fight, the tears in her eyes long gone, the faint shimmer of snow on her coat; in desperate need of more care. "Alma," she whispered. Her head rested on hers. "Would you like to help me clean the next kill?" "Won''t Amma be mad?" Her little one''s head rose with weary eyes. Ingrid smiled, "You let me worry about that. Okay?" She opened her arms for her daughter. Alma jumped into warm embrace, a small sniff escaped. "Okay..." They stayed together, the snow beneath them melting from the faint heat, gone from the world. Their love unending, forever entwined; heart and soul. No matter what came, Alma would live and smile, Ingrid promised. Because that''s what mothers are for. "That''s sweet." A voice said-- both of them whipped their head to the side. Ingrid''s eyes went wide, she didn''t feel anything. "You got a second to gather everyone?" Ingrid stared. "I can. I can!" Alma jumped from her lap. Adam smiled, rubbing her head. Messing up her hair, she giggled as she ran to get the others. "Are you departing? Ingrid stood once more. "Not yet," rubbing his eyes. "There''s still a few things to give." Confused. She could almost hear the unease, but stayed her questions. They returned, choosing to walk. Seeing the family gathered near the front of their cabins. Ingrid stood with them. Sven took her hand, their free hand on Alma''s shoulder. "Thank you for having me. And, for the misunderstanding..." With a wave, the snow picked up. They flinched, a silver beast lay before them. "I thought to prepare some gifts." "What is it?!" Alma said, trying as she might, failing to wrestle out of her father''s grasp. To her Ingrid had no answer... "Maeir?" But her mother locked in a trance, the weight of her foot steps crunched the snow. Telling all she needed. "Can it be?" Liv spoke, her hand coming to caress the fur. Turning over the Beast. "A Silvin Mole?" Ulf stood straighter, "Impossible-- they should be a third this size!" "The young and sick, the weak and brittle." Liv replied, a smile coming to her. "Those are the only ones that would ever touch the surface." The last one appeared about a century ago. Found by a rider, and given to the new Chief as a succession mantle. Adorned with the voice of the Spirits. It was a treasure of their tribe. Liv looked to Adam, "Is this real?" "As real as anything can, but that''s not the prize." Reaching behind the Beast, revealing a long, slimy snake? Only it wasn''t so much. Liv gasped, realizing the teeth of the beast. "What-- is that?!" Adam shrugged, "Some kind of parasite? It ate the mole from the inside out." Ingrid felt her stomach drop. "But don''t worry, as long as you have a thick coat of mana on your person, the poison won''t reach you." "Mana?" Sven asked. "Ah-- Sorry, Sutar." Adam replied, his hand gaining a sharp sheen of Sutar. "But let''s get this out of the way." His hands were too quick to follow, discarding the blood and gore. Revealing three crystals colored with the sky. A faint flow of mana escaping from the cores, before Adam closed his hands, Ingrid felt a yearning. "That thing was in the Foundation Realm?!" Ulf shattered the awe. Sven''s hand grew tighter. "Just about--" He stored away the trophy. "It only just stabilized so the shards are a bit muddled." Sven gulped, "And where was this creature?" "The first layer of the tunnels, really got a lucky break with this guy." Adam replied. Sweat beat down her brow, glad to head the warnings of her grandmother. Frightened by what still could lurk beneath them. "Well, I better get to work." He left behind the cabins, till they could not see him anymore. She felt a tug on her arm, Alma''s eyes twinkling like stars. Ingrid sighed, but gave a weary smile, tradition would be broken. Ingrid let go and knelt with her mother. Their eyes met, the wonder quickly gone and a furious conversation took place. Sutar flared, searching for each other, hearing Ulf, Sven, even Alma stepping back, but Ingrid would not relent. Not for the potential of her daughter, and the life of Liv''s granddaughter. Feelings, will, understanding, Liv looked to Alma and beyond the years to come. "Alright," Liv whispered, a faint smile coming through. "Alma, would you like the first cut?" Alma froze, before the brightest joy shown on her. She squealed and tackled her grandmother, "Really?!-- I promise to do it the best!" Liv hugged her granddaughter, chuckling. "I have no doubt you will." A breath left from Ulf and Sven, a smile of their own as they looked to Alma dashing around the mole. Liv storing the worm in her own [Inventory]. Ulf carried the mole on his back, towards the pavilion; greeted to a sighed of piled stones, ice, and snow at the bottom of the ridged. They felt the shifting of the earth, unsure of what to make of it, but after all the man has done, they laid their worries to rest. Ingrid took the sharpest knife they had, and gently placed it within her daughter''s hand. Guiding her along. "Now Alma, cut along here." Alma nodded, listening to the tellings of her family. Sharing the knife with each other, they sliced through the wider, tougher, sections, returning it to their young snow bud as they made the final pass. They smiled and praised. It was not the way of Isgard, but did it matter? Their tribe could wait. For the moment was theirs; and nothing would change the notion. # # # The sun was setting, the frontier storms kissed the mountain peaks, dashing them with fresh snow. Ingrid cooked a meal in their wait, a creak at the door stilled the room. "Come on." Adam waved, tired. And so they went around their homes, the rubble cleared, marked with a small path to a wide set of double doors indented into the ridge. They followed through without a word, coming to a wide space, illuminated by crystals high above. From the front to the back, it must have been fifty paces wide and twenty tall. "Don''t blink, or just might miss it." With a snap of his fingers, the room filled with color. Countless shapes and symbols overlapped, revolving in ways unknown. When the light settled, the room felt different. As each breath gave more life to their movements. "The Sutar... is more?" Ingrid spoke her thoughts. "Good catch." Adam said. "The formation should settle at around an influx of forty percent if all things work well." "This--" Sven''s eyes went wide. "You made a Sutar Hoard Pattern?!" Adam shrugged. "Such things... I never thought to be in the presence of..." Sven whispered. Alma ran around. Only the Council and the Clans were said to have the knowledge. But for them, here? Ingrid felt faint, wondering whether this was all a dream. "Give it some time, will need a day to finish the the final calibrations." Adam said, guiding them out. Faeir looked pained to leave the room, but Maeir dragged him along. Outside, they went to the light. Further than they were often comfortable under the open sky, but today. They saw the beauty of the valley, revealing in dreams of the future. "Those... patterns... will only last for the next twenty years. So use your time wisely, once it''s done-- it''s done. Don''t try to tinker or it might implode the hill." His face flat, serious. "We understand..." She wavered. "Thank you--" "One more thing," Adam interrupted her, gifting her a book. Its cover pressed with a snowflake. "I''ve taken some time to mark down some note for the practice of Ice mana-- Sutar, sorry. It should allow for more control and make the transition to reach the Foundation Realm much easier." Her heart skipped a beat, she almost couldn''t believe his words. None of them really did. "Alma however..." Ingrid returned. "I do not truly know what kind of physique she''ll form, but for what it''s worth, it''s probably something with the moon." Another book was offered, the moon and ice adorned its face. "If her Rebirth is tied to Lunar mana, this guide should help her tinker with the general energy flows. I can''t claim all the answers, somethings might even be wrong, but it''s there, in case you are looking for them yourself." Ingrid cradled the books. "And lastly, for the girl of the hour. Alma!" Adam called to her, coming with a bounce. He knelt down to match her height. "What is your favorite weapon?" Alma''s eyes brightened, she looked over to her father. "A spear." She said. Her grandparents'' heads fell. Sven was proud. As Ingird felt a smile. "Well then this''ll be easy." Adam pulled out a boar spear; a metallic point and blunt end was familiar, colored in the shinning white. The shaft, however, was made of bone, of a creature she did not know. "This next part might be a bit scary, but dab your finger on the point." Ingrid blinked-- Alma pricked her finger. She didn''t scream, as the faint blood touched the metal. Ingrid watched, as they all watched, the spear shrunk down for Alma''s size. "There," Adam gifting it to her. "As you grow it will grow with you, but if there comes a day where you need a new spear-- don''t be afraid to get another one. Okay?" Alma absently nodded, staring at the spear within her palms. Ingrid was on her immediately. Sven and Faeir stared at the weapon. "Good luck, Alma." The wind picked up as Adam began to rise from the snow, Ingrid''s mouth went agape. The family looked on, starstruck. "Amma, how is he flying?" Alma''s voice came over them. Adam chuckled. A shrill wind followed as the man flew high, farther than her eyes could define. She watched as there was a shift in color, a deep black sheen reflected before a blur set to the frontier. Ingrid stared as the speck was lost to the distant storm. Not knowing what to say, silence bore the land. But in the deep reaches of her soul she felt a rising hope, that tomorrow would not be a sacrifice. For the day to come where the Bone Throne would fall, and the butcher to be slain was not a mere dream. With the luck of the Spirits, they were given a chance to bear their daughters future. And with it, nothing would stand before their return. Prey no longer. The Wolborn would rise once more, and towards the newfound trails. The hunt began, and so the Northern wind blew. V1.P1 - Chapter 2 : Reunion There exists a small hill; an insignificant bump in the stretch of frozen tundra. The winds bellowed, far from the Hoarfrost pass; the colossal pair of glaciers parted the edge of the north to the Frozen Depths; a land entirely of ice, a sea frozen over, riddled with caverns far below his sensors managed to pierce. "Auh--" His face met a giant snowflake. Forcing him to clean his snow goggles, but the blizzard didn''t let up. The cold pressed against his senses; his armor stowed, bare but basic winter wear. He regretted testing the cold. His resistance hadn''t improved in the slightest! He retrieved his phone-- forty unread messages plastered the screen. Shaky hands dissuaded the notifications, he was close enough; a couple more minutes... and a few codes later-- the ground shook. By his side, a glass tube rose, enclosing a platform. He trudged to the handle, opening the door, reeling a breath absent of fog. Closing the space, his descent began. A rim of lights appeared below and above, reflecting the ethereal blue. The ice slowly faded to stone, the sight of reinforced metal thereafter, until the metal groaned, and locked. The shaft was sealed. The defensive protocols enabled. A warm light ignited the small room. Bare but a forgotten computer; it''s screen small, the case taking the space of a car, thick wires haphazardly splayed the floor, connecting to the small Gate off to the side. It''s ring old, the purple crystals lined the outer edge, nearing their end. One, perhaps two passes left? His hands were a flurry on the rugged keyboard. The sequence accepted. The Spacial Gate hummed, the mana batteries depleted, the computer roared. Webbing dozens of formations upon each other. The rims spun, igniting ancient glyphs along the face; attuning to a matching frequency. Adam grimaced, the portal groaned. Fluctuations danced on with the extremes, spiking and dropping from it''s critical parameters. Another mystery to history. Without the runes of the Jui-Op bridging his knowledge, the Helios Gates would not have existed. But the maintenance alone was a nightmare for the Foreign Gates, without the Spacial Rubic, none of it would be possible. A failure, even if it did solve the money problems. The center of the ring stabilized, darkness manifesting, contained by the inner rim, sparks ignited within the ripples of space. A pulse birthed; brushing away the night for a blur of beyond. Adam took a breath, his steps trudged more than he would have liked. He peered at the edge of space, looking back on instinct, shaking his head. And stepped beyond. His body felt stretched, his senses straining as time began to twist... the feeling familiar... The Void-- He blinked. Wood supported his soles, feeling gravity again. The sight of the lounge; filled with tables, chairs, and couches, echoed a memory of laughter. The bar was still in the corner. The lights were still warm. Adam a breath, everything was as he remembered it... if he discounted the five level 3 Androids raising the flag of Halo... a circle with a diamond within. What was this? Two waves of mana touched his senses; the residual mana of the collapsing portal, and the other, well, it was overblown. The far doors burst open, a rush of metal came. Adam smiled, opening his arms, embracing Link. His one true miracle-- his boy. The sound of muffled static came to his ear, a tinge of regret followed, but he was here. He was okay, well enough to face him again. They parted. Even after all these years he still wore the same clothes. A white shirt and khaki pants. His eyes softened at the pixelated smile within the curved pane. A little shimmer of light shone off his body. He had obviously buffed it. There wasn''t a common scratch, but his arms and neckline gave him away. The Phoenix Bronze had a fine shadow of red tint, and the bonded Zylon fiber gave a much more vibrant hue of gold than the yellow he remembered. Between the sparse pockets, Salu Platinum showed its faint radiance. He was reminded of a wondrous time, a miracle he couldn''t hope to recreate. From the Cold-Titanium Alloy in his bones. To the Runret Silver of his circuit nerves. To the Trinity Winter Dew coolant in his blood. To the Nine Scale Engine of his Heart. And the Multi-Threaded Atlas Core processor of his Mind... He remembered everything, but... he hadn''t the words. What could he say, after so long? "You took your time." Link quipped, a faint smile brushed Adam''s lips. "Had to make a stop, a family needed some help with their little Forte." Adam replied. Pixel brows appeared, and one raised. "A Forte?-- Was it a Bloodline? A Fragment?--" "A Constitution, to a young girl of five." Adam sighed. "You have the worst luck in the world dad." Adam frowned, while Link''s pixels laughed. "For a second there I thought something worse. I couldn''t find any activity in the satellite feed." "You think your old man has lost his tricks?!" Adam hurt, exaggerating offense. "Secret bases are secret for a reason." Linked chuckled. A strained silence came about. "Are you okay?" His smile eased, feeling the probing mana around him. "I think I''ll be alright." "Your Realm, it stabilized." Some unknown tension released from Link''s shoulders. "And the Title?" Adam sighed. Rare enough were titles-- the frustrating thing was but the second "undefined" he''d come across. Only one that had any effects.
[Abandon] Force cancel an accepted World Quest, by any means necessary. Effects:
  • Locks [Quest] to Lvl 2
  • Lock World Quests
  • Reduced Rewards gained from Dungeon Completions
  • Additional Conditions to Advancement Quests
  • Inhibits access of Hidden Pieces
  • Major Reduction on experience with the [Progress] Privilege
  • Minor Reduction on Known Privileges
  • Added Conditions to Conjoined Authorities
  • Locks Unknown Privileges
  • Locks all [Privileges] to Level 4 (Max)
  • Takes a Title Spot
"No..." He hadn''t spent any time finding a solution, but he couldn''t tell Link that. "I haven''t been able to come up with anything. Have you?" "Sorry dad," Link slumped. "There hasn''t been any new information." Adam mirrored, "What about Convergence?" The Privilege he unlocked coming back from the Void.
[Convergence -- ¢ú¢ó] Through forces willed and unknown, the near impossible followed and gave birth to your existence. ''Treasure the Moments Young One, be Wary of the Life Ahead.'' Summary:
  • Enables System Integration Network.
  • Cannot be leveled through Dungeon Delves.
Privilege:
  1. System Node Registration
Link couldn''t meet his eyes. "Convergence is still the highest recorded rank." He was still the only one then. After decades they were no closer. But, that was alright-- he swung an arm around his boy. Shoulder to shoulder. Link turned to face him, bearing a downcast of pixels. He smiled. "Don''t worry about it, Link. I can make do-- whatever happens, it''s not world ending." Link''s form straightened, a small smile returning. "Glad to have you back, dad." "Glad to be back, son." The mood returned, as they began a walk. Motioning behind as they left through the door. "But what''s with the Andriods?" Link''s faltered, he paused in the middle of the hall. "I... thought you would be arriving earlier, so I had order a procession." "Huh," he chortled. "I''m a little to old to be playing Royalty..." "Perhaps a poor Count then?" Link jousted. Adam chuckled as they continued. Passing a fork in the hall, an elevator awaited, carrying them up to the peak, the ceiling opened to a small patch of grass. Rows of trees guide a pristine stone path, up to the end. A headstone of mundane marble stood before a dark tree without leaves, half of the plot dedicated to a meadow of colorful flowers... Fractaliens; an iridescent flower, famed for their color, and chaotic mana alignment. With each new day, their petals would change, and so too would their concentration of mana. He took a breath. A mix of summer; the warm smell of a fresh air reached from the forest slope. A wave of left him free, he had relearned much, yet there was grand projects to be finished. If only things were a little bit simpler the higher I go, he thought. His gaze landed on a great tree, it''s bark; dark as night, branches bare of leaves. Long ago, it had no true name-- it''s only proof of existence was the cuttings sold on the black market. Months of searching through fields of misdirection lead to a discrete mountain cliff. Locked away in a courtyard by a Clan of Beast Tamers, guarded by those approaching the Core Realm. It stood a third it''s size, weak, and clinging to life. He felt little pity when their location got "leaked." When the fires came for their doors, well, he took his chance. He enjoyed snatching the prize. Brining it to the one place it could truly heal, grow, and taste the touch of Stars. Years would pass without a name, in the end Link was the one who gave it. A little spot on, but it deserved every moment of awe. When night would fall, the truth would be revealed. Leaves of faint stars would shimmer in the night, reaching for the sky. A cluster by it''s own right. And so it was named... Starlight. The last piece of his mountain of wonders. Titan was finally whole, and set in motion. The treasures that adorned it now-- he looked upon the nine petals, the chaos adorned. Reagents Alchemists and Wizards cursed for centuries, vexed by the teasing of the mystical "weed". He grinned, yet it couldn''t dissuade a muddled irritation. Adam looked to the other half, a grave of weapons stood. Broken spears, swords, shields, daggers... and a handful of others, embedded the ground, drinking the ambient mana. He couldn''t feel it, but there was little doubt a heavy Intent lingered the broken metal. Enticing enough, young warriors might set out their own blades to meditate between the rust. He squinted at the finer details. They weren''t his. Right? He couldn''t remember, a chill trailed down his spine. "The weapons...?" Adam pointed. "A gift from Pierre, the flowers were from Sigurn." Link replied. The shattering glass echoed. Time slowed. The world faded... Pierre... Sigurn... Strangers. Customers. Allies. Friends-- Like Hell! It was because of them! Because they pushed, because they were allowed on the mountain, he followed the World Quest once more. He should have kept it to himself; the impossible dream of Ascension. Yet they came. They tried to help-- "Never before has such a party been formed, Adam the rewards are well worth this chance..." Pierre''s voice echoed. The Girfel Bastard! After all he''d done! For all of them! "--d! Dad! Wake up!" A faded voice came through the color. "What?" The world shot back. He frowned. A cage of arrays sealed his space, the mountain funneled the brunt of the entwined power. The faint lines of mana faded, a distant alarm blaring throughout the city. "Sorry, I wasn''t quick enough..." Adam felt a twist in his gut. The flow of mana recoiled from the sudden burst, the waves in the atmosphere echoing beyond the slopes. His phone pinged with warnings. He lost control, his heart beat the thunder of shame. If Link hadn''t thrown in his hand-- the consequences... Titan would be-- A hand found his shoulder as they turned away, half here, half toiling with the rise of subtle shakes. The descent of the elevator was no longer pleasant, the silence was sickening. He hated it-- this feeling, dammit all-- he couldn''t control it. Gritting his teeth, forcing it down, long till an after thought. Later, that was the way; he would deal with it later. # # # "...Just moments ago Class 4 Alarm blared across the city. The direct result remains uncertain, but we''ve been given the following from Titan: ''At the time of 1:34 pm, today, a partial leak of the Cryalein Energy Reactor occurred from a cross section of errors resulting from new testing procedures. The leak has been averted and sealed, no damage physical or otherwise has occurred. Further measures have been put into place to alleviate future issues resulting thereof.'' We are joined by Professor, Francis Ferns in discussion..." Link tuned out the crystal screen. The cafe was still, as all eyes were on the far wall. A subtle distraction, from their Ruic; their crystalline phones scrolling through ''Bulletin''; the social media app Link ran. Though the feeds were a flurry. ''Doom''s Day,'' they called it. Any more posts and the tag might just hit the trending page. Utter nonsense-- but it was better than what it was. He had to mind himself not to stare at dad. Both of them were concealed in an Illusion, a Technique, refined from the stores of their records. But for Adam, they had to stop by a personal vault, housing spare Cloaks; a simple band that went on the wrist, synchronizing with the user''s mana to shroud them in a new form. Dad had always been paranoid. They wore different clothes, different appearances, but kept a subtle relation of being father and son. It was the only good thing about it, the rest came as a burden. Having eyes, being unable to turn off his expressions, forced to connect his consciousness with his appearance... it was a chore, but today, it didn''t matter.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. This would not be soiled. Today was a day of rest. No matter how much he wanted to help his father. He would not ask. He would not meddle, because this was their time-- the world could wait a day. Link sighed, grimacing. Flesh was complicated. "You alright there Lane?" Dad called him by his false name. How long has it been? Perhaps well over a century now? A smile came to Link''s illusion. "I''m alright dad," he lied. "But you''re thinking of something," Adam replied. Hoping for more, distant of the hallowed look in his eyes. "Otherwise why are we here?" The iced coffee touched his lips, a smile relieved some strain. Vic''s Cafe did close down decades ago, but had also moved shop to the outskirts of the city. Alexander had taken over his mother''s business after her passing, and changed it to accommodate a more serene location. Fields of green and gold painted the wall windows up till the edges of the forest. The brief sight of the main road filled with wayward travelers with their eyes full of wonder, staring at the sprinkling of skyscrapers and pristine beauty of metal merged with nature. Sometimes he would stop by, under invisibility, and catch a moment. "I don''t know where to start." He spoke wistfully, another lie. He knew where not to. "Then, the little things?" Thank goodness. "You know there is rather interesting development that I''ve been monitoring," Adam leaned in. "A new specie of duck has come to the southern pond." Father groined, "Too small. Come on, Lane." He chuckled, a bit unsure of himself. "If we''re going for a bit big... business has been on the upside since the Continental Drift." Adam''s brows furrowed. "The what?" "Ah, that''s right. You''ve been gone for so long I guess you wouldn''t have know." Adam''s eye''s rolled. He needed just enough to sate dad''s curiosity. "A new Punishment has been attached to some of the latter Rank Dungeons; failure means that you just find yourself on a whole new continent." "It doesn''t just kick you out? What about the Keystones?" "Some do, as for the Keystones; there are ranks to them now." He sipped his drink, a pleasant taste of vanilla. "If it doesn''t match or exceed the rank, then they only have a rough chance of putting on the same continent?" Adam frowned, much less pleasant. "And trade?" "A... much more sensitive matter since you left. New resources for the lower realms, even though Avatars have been lagging behind." "Tier 6 Dungeons?" Link shook his head; their was no such thing, the completion of the World Quest brought nothing this time. "Shit-- it might not have enough..." A weariness took hold. "Of what?" Link paused. "Nothing, uh-- don''t worry." Adam replied, unbothered by Link''s leer. The silence was deep but mild. Link received a notification through his internalized system. He held back clenching his teeth. Dad turned over his phone, unaware. Long since he had moved the information pipeline from it''s standard course. He wished some weren''t so petty in their complaints. Just one day, I would like nothing to happen. Link thought. "You have anything else planned?" "Not really, though there are some documents that need to be finalized." If he didn''t raise the tariffs of iron for this. Adam scoffed. "Paperwork? Come on, don''t you have better things to do?" "I guess so," Link stood. "This''ll only take but an hour." "Don''t worry about it." Adam waved him off, leaving with him. "I have to go make another stop anyway." "Where will you go?" "Where else? To the Guardians." Link faltered a step, as a flurry of messages were sent in an instant. # # # On the east side''s slopes of Titan, a small path graced it''s way by a trail of moss and cobble. The gentle wind tickled with the scent of fresh grasses, brimming mana, easing his steps. Still, they dug into the earth. Adam could push back the storm with his mind... Only his worries expected this day to be filled with more scorn, demanded it in some ways. In many was he had been a poor leader, and a worse father. What would his father say at a time like this? What would his mother? The time was shrouded by joyless thought, the faint memory of the family forge keeping the madness from ruining the day. Adam paused to probe. A leyline coursed beneath. Nothing was amiss. The Guardians were fine. He continued, his eyes lingering on the thick vegetation and refined trees. Company in the brush. Farther into the shade and the darkness of the canopy predators stalked. Gauging their prey, mana probes were sent, silently along his steps, trying to catch a moment. Finding nothing-- a surge recoiled their connection. A yelp muffled roar shocked the forest. The predators dispersed, leaving only the small eyes to follow along. The path continued to a clearing of circling stones, his pace slowed. Evergreen Moss coated their surfaces; a faint shimmer of green pulsed a steady beat of Nature mana from the natural anchor. Underneath, hidden under tens of Obscuring Arrays, formations and machines went with the beat of the Node. Though it didn''t seem to stop the Diviners-- the cursed profession. It was peaceful. Quiet, but compared to the heart of the Sicurac Forest, it lacked power. Perhaps a few could grow to Foundation Establishment on pure sustenance. But more; be it beings or realm? This clearing could only support a single being at a time. He humored the image of opening up the mountain. Imagining the lines reaching he to the Outer rim. A shiver went up his spine. Making a reminder to double check the Obscuring Arrays. There were few things greater than the sanctity of his home. The Guardians secondary assignment, first being managing their designated Nodes. His shoulders dropped. That was if the rascals could even pay attention. A green chipmunk lay basking under the sun. Sleeping in the center, by the brightest Evergreen Moss. Some Guardian... Adam grumbled. "Reggie," But the chipmunk slept. "Reggie... Reginald!" The rodent squeaked and jumped a dozen feet in the air. A little blur shot at his face-- Adam caught the terrified chipmunk. "Sleeping on the job?" He turned off his illusion. Terror turned to shock, as Reggie''s eyes went wide. "Ch-- Chief?!" Reggie squeaked, like he couldn''t believe it. Had they not known he was back? "Who else would it be?" Settling down the Guardian on his resting spot. Silently standing on his hind legs, staring. A wave of unease nudged, "What?" "Is... it really you?" A worry settled. Adam blinked, "Is everything alright Reggie?" The chipmunk looked downcast. "We didn''t think you would return after everything that happened." He shifted, the memories weren''t coming to him. "Were you there?" "We weren''t-- Batu came the first week, and we saw a recording. Then, Link came around for some time, saying that you left." Reggie supplied, feeling the mana of the little chipmunk poke and prod. "Did he not say the time?" "We didn''t know more." He sighed. Maybe it was for the best. "It''s not like it was before..." Reggie exclaimed, his Beastal senses were more attuned to a change in nature than emotion. A person''s stability, in heart and mind. "Colder, I think... but, fire... Change is still continuing." There was a pause, a deep breath taking in the crisp air. Adam recalled-- tried to recall brighter days, happier times. He frowned at the muddled emotions. [Parallel Processing] The Skill oozed a wave of pressure, gorging at his mana; a testament to his incompetence within offerings of the System. A crutch. His mind split in two, his view of the world stretched until he was helpless. Leaving but one central focus-- himself. His life at world''s mercy, who knows what his enemies made of themselves in his absence. The risk of his incompetence. Together both minds worked, one imagined the future, another the past. Waging through the highs; the birth of his son, the first day of flight... and the lows; failing to save Colette, wasting years to an explosion... the memories came forth, and yet dulled. The future came with silence and ruin, neither was his desire. He pushed the skill deeper. His mind ached, color seemed to twist and fragment, a glimpse into the nightmare. He saw-- the Void stared back. The Skill broke. He gasped. Falling to his knees, sweat beat down his brow. Reggie''s chirps were secondary to the pounding beat within his ears. His stomach churned, groaning-- his nose clogged, failing to contain the warm trickle. He touched his lips, tasting iron, finding a faint red upon his fingertips. He snorted the blood. How long has it been? He could not remember the last time he pushed the skill this hard. What''s worse-- he felt jarred, alien; the muddled swirl of emotions, into the burst of shattered glass... Adam''s mind teetered on the edge-- the little squeaks overpowered any reprieve. "It''s alright Reggie. I''m fine." He patted chipmunk scurrying on the grass, staring up at him with concern. He tightened his grip over his mana, resolved to not a single trace being left. "How was I...?" "Breaking-- Breaking!" Reggie squeaked, his voice strained, blaring instincts. Petering out by a time long past, but his eyes did not waver. He rarely saw such intensity. Reggie jumped to his shoulder. Little hands hugged his neck as he felt soft fur. A whisper, quiet and scared, "Feeling danger; like prey." Emotions would not have drowned him so easily if he regained control. The beat of his heart picked up. Resigning to sit on the grass, his back to Reggie''s rock, staring at the sky, the clouds passing by, he thought of nothing but the moment. Reggie made no move to separate, nestling himself by the crevasse of his neck. A balm for his his aches. He really needed to get out of these clothes. The pain lessened. A reminder that coaxed out past days, traveling under a hooded cloak and a little chipmunk that beat the odds; stealing priceless seeds under the nose of Beasts twice as strong. Simpler days... Adam thought, his hand reached across to Reggie. He felt a shudder, as Reggie''s paws clamped down on the leather, a strain of his mana flared in defense. But thats all there was. Gentle strokes and soft fur calmed, purring for the time. A gentle smile relieved some of the turbulence as they cared for nothing else. Lost in a moment. Thinking of nothing, as the world sought nothing of them. When Adam relieved his hand, he turned to wide eyes commanding his attention. Reggie tried to speak, stuttering with no words; his body pushed and pulled for meaning. But the chipmunk relented, casting a less intense gaze. "Are you meeting with the others?" "I am." Adam replied, wanting to catch up with them after so long. "It might be hard." Reggie meeked, "Only Abe, Lar, and Bane are on the mountain." Adam blinked, "Have the rest left?" They were not bound, the Guardians, but they had to do their part; manage their node, and defend the mountain. Should they wish to leave, they were free, with some conditions-- though what Beast would? Even Reggie defended his rock with ferocity, having not the will to leave, it was in their blood, and Mana Beasts would rather die than relinquish their territory. People they were, human they were not. But sometimes things tended to blur, if they truly left... Titan and his hope, would be a bit less whole... "No?" Reggie''s voice waned. Concerning. "They''re here but... went away for a bit." Relieved. He didn''t have the time to find another Guardian. "Do you know where they are?" "Kraith left to go exploring, but she should be back in a few days. Iskis and Vagha have left north for the Kelch Mountain range to do battle." Reggie replied. Fair enough, holding those three was a fools errand anyway. But he couldn''t help but count, there was still another missing. "And Grace?" Reggie''s expression faltered. Adam frowned. "What?" "Grace hasn''t touched the mountain for a few years now." His brows shot up, his heart sunk. If she wasn''t at the Metal Node, who was? "But she is still around, in the city... I think?" "You think? Why? What happened?" Grace was strong, her presence stood at the peak of the Refinement Realm when he left. By now she should be well into Foundation Establishment. Why was she in the city? A man-sized bat would''ve surely caused a panic. "She attained her Human form," Reggie whispered, so quiet he barely heard it over the distant song birds. Adam''s mouth went ajar, all the dread evaporate-- "What?!" He shot to his feet, taking Reggie in his palm to see the lie... but there was none to speak of. "She... chose to be Human?" She chose to abandon the power of Beasts. "Yes..." Reggie''s voice petered, looking torn. A heavy thought on his mind. In all his years he never met a Beast that chose the Human path-- he heard rumors, whispers in legend. He focused on Reggie''s weary expression-- but there was a price that stood against everything a lesser Beast could hope for... "We''ll go for a visit," Adam said. Settling Reggie on his shoulder, "Maybe bring the others on a little trip?" Reggie chipped, not really here. He sighed. The little one would be alright. Reggie has always pulled through whatever stood before him. Tenacious as a Dragon... One way or another, he''ll get his answer. # # # The Oaks wound their ways upon each other, reaching for the little bit of light that had not yet been claimed. But the day could not be snuffed by their presence, as the grasses, bushes, moss, and ferns reached in their own efforts. A calming sight of green. Adam felt it, the pulse of Nature mana channeling through the metaphysical pipelines. Bound to travel to the farthest ends of the mountain, and back again, but it would never be the same. The mana born here would have long since departed, gone, as the channel brought another wayward. Spurring on the artificial cycle as all beings knew... as he knew, but couldn''t wholly muster. Cultivation. Centuries, an empire''s worth of insights, and experiments, poured the channels. It helped the foundation was strong; the life here measuring their time by hundreds, if not thousands of years, eased the strain that he would have otherwise been forced to carve. Sustaining a theory long since he stepped foot these slopes. A Cultivating Mountain. "Close," Reggie nudged his neck. Adam couldn''t help but smile, reminded by the gushing creeks breaking into gentle streams. Sourced by a single cascade, and the torrent of the waterfall. Fresh dew and subtle sweet florals tickled his senses. Adam took a breath-- breaching the forest to a muddled shore. Water lilies sprinkled the surface of crystal water, some taking their time to bloom as the white petals caught the light of the sun for their briefest days. His gaze rose to catch the cliff face holding a minored awe. A waterfall crashed to a mist blanketing a corner of the small lake. A high rumble shadowed them all-- a blur of green skipped the lily pads. The water underneath soared like a rock dropped from the cliff. But the little singer did not care. A frog cried, staring up at him with big blue eyes. "How have you been Lar?" He asked... and the little green bellowed incoherently. Ah crap-- Reggie jumped from his shoulder, spinning in a whistling wind. A foot peaked out his descent... "Gahg--" Lar belched, his head planting in the muck. "We don''t have all day Lar!" Reggie squeaked, cast a hard gaze at the stumbling frog. Lar... had strange troubles for a Beast. Stranger for an amphibian, he was a very emotional frog. His spurts sometimes lasted for days; days of happiness, days of sadness, but they had a pattern; the more striking the emotional seizure, the more time it took for Lar to settle himself. And... well... he hadn''t thought the frog cared for his presence all too much in the years he''d made him Guardian of the Water Node. Lar looked up, trying to compose himself. "Adam...? Chief?" He only heard Reggie call him Chief. His smile brightened. "Yes Lar, I''m back." There were no words. Lar jumped to his shoulder, looking deep into his eyes as Reggie once had. Lar''s mouth ballooned, and a piercing cry sang his song of a hundred frogs. Bellows high and low, tuning one another, his heart on display. It was minutes until he calmed, settling to an eerie silence on his shoulder. Reggie jumped to his other, staring curiously at Lar. "We''ll go see if Abe''s awake." Adam said, leaving Lar to muse his troubles. Reggie squeaked, and they bid off. The path to Abe''s abode was much shorter-- part of the difficulty in managing the channels of this mountain was the mana sources weren''t perfect. The defining mechanisms were illusive, but what stayed the same were the physical properties reflect the metaphysical space. At least most of the time... The Celestial Elements never did play by the rules. Nature mana dwindled as more outcrops of rocks took the space of trees. Stone mana coursed through another set of channels. All the way to the shattered cliff, boulders ascended, stacked on top of one another, nestling a set of stairs leading to the forest above. He ignored them, walking off to the far side where boulders nestled the unbroken cliff. He did not paused, shrouding himself and his Guardians with a thin coat of mana. The illusion did not ripple, nor break, finding himself in a darkened room of soft lights. Winding its way around till they were right under the set of stairs. Before a giant tortoise three times his size. Abe slept in soft breaths. His form was coated with a thin layer of dust and powder. Large dome spikes protruded from his shell, the natural shades of grey of his armor, and the dull white of his skin made him seem part of the stone itself. Always the sentinel. Less adventurous than the rest, content on sleeping or reading in passing days. "You awake Abe?" Adam asked. The tortoise opened his eyes of ash, raising his neck high beading down at him. Uncaring to hide his power. Foundation Establishment, Third Stage. "You''ve returned." Abe spoke, an ancient voice rumbled. "I can only assume things have settled for your mind and realm?" "Yes," he strained. The tortoise''s eyes dilated, a stubble shift in his expression-- he was getting a lot of those today. "I assume you''re well, and Link has found no complications with your arrival?" Abe asked, waning out of his hole to stand. He frowned but the Guardian paid no mind. "I am well enough to keep my head." Abe smirked, "Then we can only hope for brighter days in the coming challenges your presence shall bring." Adam huffed, exasperated. Looking off to the cavern wall, reinforced with dozens of formations, and heavy illusion... A passage, leading deeper into the mountain, to a room with far more protections than even the Ascendant Library. Titan''s Archive of Knowledge; the Memorium. Unbound by definitions of good and evil, the library contained everything not of his own works. From the mundane to vile and sacred works-- nothing was without reach, if it was knowledge, it was kept safe regardless of its history or make. Abe''s tertiary duty. He loved the library. The tortoise stood steadfast at works that would render lesser souls twisted and cursed. His eyes bore a deep gaze, and his spirit the essence of the mountain. Alone he learned, and bore on to the next challenge to sort. "Are the Guardians to gather?" Abe''s form shrinking to reach his knees. "If you want? I''m going to swing by Bane, and see if I can find where Grace went?" Adam replied. "She hasn''t returned to the mountain?" A flash of concern dotted his features. "No," he sighed. Abe bellowed out a hum, contemplating, settling deeper into concentration. A brush of mana further compressed his form until he was the size of Adam''s palm. Mana swirled around the tortoise as Abe began to rise, before settling on Adam''s head. "Why do you always go for the high perch? Are you a bird?" Adam quipped. "No more than your head becoming daft." Adam snorted. "Alright, then." He made way out of the cave. Catching the sun''s rays. A subtle prompt in his mind invoked the [Arsenal]. Metallic gloves, boots, and greaves, came forth in their shine of black, brass, and subtle violet. "Hang on, I don''t really want to walk around the mountain today." Mana drew from his core, empowering the armor. Delving to call the limited memory of his Array programs. Circles of countless symbols shown from his hands and feet. A flex of his channels, a tweak of the illusionary shroud for his passengers, and they were off... A gentle course, taking it slow. Feeling the warmth of the summer''s day. He took a breath, brushing up the Laws of reality, feeling the stability, and the cradle of his home. Casting a gaze from the mountain to the city, and beyond. All within his sights was the work of his achievements. It was nice to be back. Leaving to the gentle descent before a mound of dulled earth, crowning a large fern. How many could guess that the stalk was just the end of a very large carrot? A Balyan Carrot, but still. The earth shook. A cloud of dust and black carapace rose the length of two men. The beetle stood undaunted, ready for a fight. Foundation Establishment, Fifth Stage. His brows rose. "At ease Bane." Bane replied; closing his wings and lowering his rear. "Everything alright?" There was a click from his mandibles. "Then do you need anything?" Two clicks responded, before Bane returned to bury himself underneath the ground. Leaving everything as it once was. "Couldn''t even wait for even a second." He grumbled. Nothing had changed about the beetle. At least he remembered how to answer back. Adam didn''t know if insects could develop higher level intelligence. Most were just hungry, constantly looking for a feast. Emotions and duty were absent in their living, no matter their Realm, the only thing that seemed to come was Instinct. The grueling hours of training brought simple commands. A fortress that cared for nothing but his little patch of dirt, and the Node he was instructed to guard. "Guess that''s it..." He thought aloud, feeling the awaiting anticipation of his companions. "Let me just check in with Link first before we go on the hunt." He pulled out his phone and sent a message, expecting little, it would probably be a dead end. Though their might be something on the Servers, who knows? Maybe there was a record? The response came near instant-- an address, sure. But a poster? Adam looked up, and for the first time in a decades he knew a headache was coming. V1.P1 - Chapter 3 : Consequence of Failure This can''t be right. Once more, cloaked in illusion. Adam stood with his guardians-- hidden in his hood-- changed from leather to something more current. A grey hoodie with blue jeans. Across the street stood a behemoth of reinforced glass and steel; one of the five skyscrapers, standing tall with its sharp edges and cut slopes. Climbing high like some of the faded memories, but it was not a place of business-- no-- it was a home for the prominent and "wealthy". An icon of constraints and imagination. The Veriet. At least it didn''t look sore after all these years. "Well this''ll be easier than I thought." Adam said, slightly disappointed. A woman passed, giving him a crossed look, another huffed walking around him. Their fine attire aligned with sharp shirts of a solid color. Marked by a single flower, or leaf, their dress adorned with weaves of artistry. Prominent flowers, trees, and the mountain was the trend these days it seems. Mostly for the woman, and their garments. The sparse crowd continued the same as he left all those years ago. He hoped Link didn''t go through too much of this crap. Double checking the address, then the poster. Was this really it? A striking woman, with slightly larger ears, gave an aggressive if seductive pose. Her eyes, the wide grin, the confidence that oozed-- a far cry from the indiscreet mumbler he remembered. ''Lessons in Coalescence.'' She barely spoke before, and now she was advertising her expertise. "This should be interesting." Abe said, his gaze intent on the flier. Yeah, right. This was grey zone in the agreement; if they left the land, then they were honored to keep their silence of their experience and time on the mountain. But what if they left their post but not the land? Trouble, he thought. "Top floor..." Adam trailed. "We''re taking the tunnels." There were too many eyes, especially with the staff. Androids didn''t manage the nicer establishments, it was always some Ascendant or highly skilled laborer. Questions would be posed. By someone-- most of them very entitled with running the place-- a good thing, Link assured, but if he was found out... What was a simple walk, turned into a few days of remodeling his illusion. Just so someone didn''t wise up, and connect some unknown dots. It happened before-- it will not happen again! He sighed, sometimes not having Intent sucked. His steps turned to a nearby alley. The voices of the crowds dwindled as the buildings'' shadows became deep. Making sure no eyes or senses were upon him. A command was pushed, prompting a flurry of security questions. He grumbled, taking his time, less the Swarm went on Red Alert. A necessary protocol. In a world of unknowns, security was worth more than any Crystal or Gold. No matter how annoying it was. The ground gave way beneath, closing with a new cover just as fast. The shaft illuminated as the air filled a hum of lights and gears. It was a pleasant ride down to the small chamber. A vault door loomed; it''s circular frame shimmered with dull metal. A pin pad lit. He coalesced a simple string of mana. Tapping the numbers. The sizzling groan sucked a breath, taking it''s first from the decades worth of slumber. He let his hood down, the Guardians need not be cramped. Abe on his head, with Lar and Regi on his shoulders. They were on a small journey, yet he couldn''t help it. He needed to know, if he was lacking. A weariness in his stomach-- he flexed his sense. Copper and fiber optic wire ran with flux mana cables on the ceiling, as the high voltage wires filled the sides. Bellow, the second tunnel ran in parallel, carrying the necessary water for all in Halo''s domain. And further down, in the deepest reaches of the cold earth, the last tunnel churned with machines carrying the sewage of all said occupants. Mana flaked from the Flux Cables, but they did not lose their purpose. Pressure built, but the pipes didn''t rattle, the machines kept on doing their work. At this rate, perhaps he didn''t have to put a hand on this for another century. He would have to set up a timer. Traveling was one thing, abandoning another. Though thinking about taking these things apart; replacing them bit by bit... it made his heart mourn with the memory and the all consuming task. "Fitting we are making our way through the underground." Abe floated, twirling his head around. Beside Link and himself, perhaps he would be the most knowledgeable about secretes that laid beneath Halo. But his senses did not reach out above his own. The other Guardians? He could feel them. Their curiosity taking in everything they could. He smiled-- reactivating the mana jammer. Lar croaked. Regi squeaked. Adam laughed as they poked him with their mana. Even in jest he couldn''t relent-- a thought drifted to the forefront... "You''re excessive, what cause could put forth a need for such debilitating security?... What is this city but a lavish slave pen that works with nothing but to fulfill your own needs?... What good have you done Adam-- really, but give false hope, that anything worth of value is purely for your own ends, the rest be locked in your own troves?!..." His brow creased, Batu... The nosy man. One of the few that made him think the improved memory of each realm was not the boon most thought it to be. His lips creaked, holding off a frown as they arrived before a flat wall. The tunnel taking a hard turn on both sides. A gentle hand, and the pass of mana clicked the mechanism. The stone gave, falling back, revealing the passage. His face scrunched, waving his arms at the cloud of dust. He felt a tickle in his lungs. Lar sang; a whirlwind of mist and dew. The stale ages sank, falling like rocks to water. Adam grunted a cough, "Thanks." Lar croaked, a soft smile on the amphibian. "It might be wise to alleviate the pressure of these passages once in a while, less the disparaging ways of time unsettles whoever comes after us." Abe said, the lights flickering on with each step. Adam scoffed. Arriving at the end to input another code, "Not in my lifetime." The tortoise went silent, he could feel Abe contemplating. An old sigh left, "A shame." What? Reggie flinched, and the elevator opened. No... this was not the time. He hardened his expressions and went ahead. Tile laminated the floors as dark wood coated the walls and ceiling. Fine work, one of the best, but there would be no pleasant music, silence was the only answer. His destination set, it just need the right... The lift gilded backwards, up-- to the side, missing another descending elevator as it shifted into the private hoist way. It didn''t take much longer for the doors to open, absent of the normal shake and chime, to main hallway. Paintings, swords, and metallic ornaments decorate the place. Free of dust and cared for wholeheartedly. This... is certainly a change. Voices echoed from the main room, one instinctively familiar. He tightened the hold over his presence. "...The gaff of the men-- asking me for my heart and hand! Do they still not teach manners in the outer rim?!" Grace huffed, lounging about one of the couches pointed towards the distant forest and far horizon. "Don''t remind me... I''ve been having this same conversation with Elias all week." The woman on the adjacent couch replied. Her form; professional. Her attire; cut and sharp, designed with flowers growing on a mountain. Taking a bit of time to make some notes on her pad of pen and paper. Adam internally raised a brow. "But could they just not--ugh-- If I could only bite them off like the bugs they are." The other woman began laughing-- she snorted and Grace''s head whipped. Leaving herself more focused than Adam had ever seen here. "Why..." Her whine came with a realization. "I dare say that some of them would very much like to be "bitten" by you," the woman continued to chuckle. "Though you might get the Chancellor to come down and force your hand in cuffs." She wiggled her brows. Grace scoffed, "Like hell he is." The other Guardians flinched. "I''m not going to be on the late night news. Besides, he''s got his wings spread far as it is, I doubt it would be him anyway." Grace took her sip of juice, pleased. "Besides, things have become even more hectic these past few months, he''s getting rather annoying-- I had to mute his incessant calls, a complaint won''t matter." "Still..." The other woman spoke with a tone of reproach. The conversation was getting a bit too personal. "Not of my concern, if--" Alright. Adam let himself be known. Grace shot up, Metal mana coalesced her extended arm. Reaching to claw forward... A vein ticked, he communed with the Metal Law; thin strings formed from his finger tips. Attacking the space around Grace. The woman groaned, her technique faltered. Her legs shook; feeling as though the world had been pressed on her shoulders. "I wouldn''t do that." He warned the other woman, taking a pose flayed out palms, her power was only in the Tempering Realm. Ready to fight, a gleam in her eyes. Commendable, but that was not his main concern. He broke his illusion. Grace''s eyes went wide. "Still quick to jump the gun... guess, some things haven''t changed." He said, the other woman looked scandalized. Retreating his power. "Sit down, the both of you." A muffled squeak escaped Grace as she jumped to take a seat by the other woman. Grace''s hand kept the both of them down. The Guardians took their place on the other couch, exchanging curious glances with Grace. Adam, however, strung his mana along, and plucked one of the chairs from the dining room for his own, blocking their view of the setting sun. He messaged Link about the woman. Silence hung in the air as he wanted to chose his words carefully. Though, that didn''t last for as long as he thought-- he got a reply. "Grace... who is this man?" Angelina, apparently Grace''s main and only assistant for her instructional endeavors. Grace kept on steady; making no move. Her eyes locked past Adam. She wasn''t here, not entirely. Like this was poised by her whole life. A foreign resolve flickered her form. "Grace..." Angelina appeared stricken. If not for her hand tapping a message on her hidden Ruic. He chuckled, startling the two. His eyes locked with Angelina''s, a smile on his face. "You know, for a woman, you got some massive balls." Angelina turned a offended-- he wretched the Ruic from her pocket, turning her a shade paler. He laughed, "Too much? Maybe-- but your fine. Your Ruic might turn to a brick, but I am not here for trouble." Angelina regained a note of indifference, staring at her unresponsive screen. Her tapping brought no such help. Yet Grace returned impassive, internally he frowned. This... somehow didn''t feel right. "Who are you? Why have your trapped us?" Angelina spoke, a spark of fire in her eyes. At least he didn''t need to be blunt about it. "Mmmmm... Maybe we''ll get to that, but first, I need my answer." He turned to the, former Guardian? "Grace, why have you left your post?" Grace took a deep breath, her body fixed her minor slouch. A chill tickled his spine. "Do I not have the right?" She asked. "This is a critical moment int the gathering process," his voice turning cold. "Lifetimes of work hang in the balance in your absence, if you do not return... then, it all might just collapse." Grace''s lip trembled. "After all those fail safes, you still think it would fall? You concern yourself over it like a moth to the sun, and leave us all to rot-- when everyone else I see got a choice; something I never had when I could barely think for myself. "I want my freedom-- not your leash. Now. Because, it my choice to make. You hear me-- I''m done being a Guardian of my own prison. I have done enough!" His head reeled back, mind whirling of the cascades of failures; of what could happen. No... he wouldn''t let go. Abe hummed, "Poetic." "Shut it." He reflexed. The tortoise looked between them, frowning, retreating to his shell. Lar''s head drooped. Reggie could only look on, like he was fight a loosing battle. He saw them all; their hearts captured in the moment. Damn it! "You know the agreement," He cleared his throat, gathering what he could of himself. "With your resolve I would ask you to leave and--" "Wait, Wait. What the hells is this about?" Angelina chimed, her hand gripped Grace''s tighter. The woman flinched, catching Angelina attention. "What deal did you sign?" He raised a brow. For once, Grace''s eyes shuddered. "I, don''t think I can say." He nodded in approval. "What do you mean you can''t?! It''s your right to speak-- Graci, please." Angelina''s hand wrapped her shoulders, "You have nothing to worry." Adam leered. His mana extended, breaking their hold. Angelina yelped. Sending her to the other end of the couch. "I am warning you girl." His voice bellowed, a reminder of his dealings. "I will not have you coerce secrets of my private affairs." "This isn''t just your life!" Angelina sat up, remaining unfazed. "She has the right! I have the right! If you try to defile us anymore-- even if you kill us, every power in this city will be coming for your head. "So I dare you to try-- see what nightfall brings. You steaming hunk of shit!" The woman was out of breath, Grace and Reggie stared in horror. Abe peeked out, while Lar''s mouth gaped. Silence awaited Adam''s word. He wasn''t not like this. Nor the woman. How did she even become Grace''s assistant? With an attitude like that, why wasn''t she stronger than Base? But... It might be best; to dissuade more harm. He turned to Grace, "This is your responsibility-- I will not tolerate word getting out. Do you understand?" Grace meet Angelina''s eye. A brief exchange, an all knowing out come. She returned with a nod. "Good." He addressed Angelina, "From this moment on you shall be put on a Watch list. The Laws of no land will protect you if you choose to share Halo''s secrets. So I will ask, one last time, do you wish to bear the consequences?" She scoffed, "Try your worst." He scowled. "[245] years ago, a [Silver Crested Bat] was asked to be a Guardian of Titian in exchanged for 5 [yellow crystals] worth of resources." Angelina was confused, before her eyes promptly bugged out. "Though there were a few conditions; one of which, if they chose to leave, was to give, ample time before hand, so we could protect the mountain." Adam leaned in, but Grace didn''t budge. Slowly Angelina''s eyes turned. "Grace," Her eyes sparkled. "Your an--" "We are not getting side tracked," Adam interrupted. "You can talk about the revelation later-- I want to hear how breaking the contract is even remotely acceptable." "I broke nothing! Because there is nothing more to protect-- after all your insight; don''t you feel it? Titan can''t rise anymore!" Grace stood. Radiating words practiced a thousand times. Shock on Adam''s brow. It was asinine. "It doesn''t need me, or any of us. Your formations and machines can only cultivate so much, unless you want to throw the mountain into some "Pocket Realm," you''ll waste all our lives for nothing!" What did she know-- A vein ticked. Rage on the cusp of lashing out. His very dream; to reach the stars, he needed the mountain. It was an attack at his very being. He wanted nothing more than strangle the bat. Nothing more than doubt, a hoax, a way to skirt her agreement. Yes-- that was right, he''ll prove it, right here, right now. His phone summoned connecting to the Network, elevating his access. The Repository! The Sensors! They would be able to show the changes; the cumulative effort of the compounding Nodes were tracked and recorded on a secured server. Set to explode should anyone else access the information. The averages of each week were calculated, the spreadsheet turned to a graph. Showing the end of an exponential curve; leveled off entirely. Well before their mark. His teeth grit-- a swift command. Last time he check this information: ''Seventy-eight Years ago.'' No. No. NO-- FUUUCK-- His eyes closed. His phoned cradled, pressed against his drooping head. Adam lapsed. Reggie shouted something incoherent his squeaks blurred commands. The room shook, its protections strained. The Guardians surged; encircling Adam. Abe called forth his shell. Ingrained layers of arrays, flickering over one another, until the tortoise''s eyes shone white. "Now!" Abe yelled. Lar and Reggie pulled forth their power. A case erected around Adam''s seat-- the pressure in the room vanished-- the cage shook as the air it''s turned a haze. Angelina threw up over the side. Grace stood to help her fellow Guardians, Adam sinking deeper into his knees. The mana spiked, and the Guardians groaned. He was wrong, his hypothesis was wrong. It was a third less than what his calculations showed; what he hoped to create. He failed to meet the threshold. His foundation; his life''s work, a failure. All that time... it was for not. "ADAM...!" Grace''s voice shook him, echoing within. His head rose, seeing the thick shield of an array construct. Feeling his nodes leak a torrent. He activated his internal safety, tugging it back, but the flood would not close so easily. Minutes passed before any clear sight returned. When the mana pressure leveled, only then did Abe let go. The shield dissipating into fine motes of light. He stood without thought, silencing the whispers. Beginning his retreat, Abe, Lar, and Reggie rose to their spots on his head and shoulders. Making way to the elevator he called. "Wait!" The screech was more a whisper. Seeing Angelina standing at the end of the hall. The look in her eyes, ask a thousand questions. Yet only one came, "Who are you?" "Does it matter anymore?" "Why? Because it''s nothing special?" She smirked admits the sweat on her brow. This woman... Grace found a good friend. The elevator opened. He stepped through, their eyes met for the briefest moments. Once he thought moments like these would have been fun. But, now? He wasn''t so caring of the consequences. "I am the Founder." Her jaw dropped. The elevator closed and zipped down without a word. He stepped out with an absent mind, reeling, staring straight ahead. Taking each step slow. Going passed where he came, as he gaze around the history of his long nights and endless plans. Useless, with no hope of expansion. The end... "Please, let''s go home." A whisper came to his ear, as Reggie nestled his neck. Lar croaked a faint song. As Abe solemnly hummed. Yet he continued, deep into the passage of tunnels. Drifting in and out of mind. The pressure continued, but allowed one lapse-- a single thought revealing into the dark, full of malice. He began to recall some names. And it would be his end. The Black List. # # # One Month Ago [Sever] The final blade cut into the spine of the Dark Hound. The mutt fell limp, the light of it''s eyes fading. The ash flaking from it''s wounds until there was nothing left but an empty room of dim light... And a World Screen.
Quest Completed : Defeat the Hound of Exim Way! Rewards:
  • Experience
  • Privilege Insight -- [Map]
  • Dagger (?)
Delphine groaned. Falling onto her back, uncaring for the bruises and gashes upon her body. Death never came with euphoria. Where a memory would unfurl; the sight of her father''s sullen eyes looking down at her, her mother followed with a frown. Chasing the man whom she will never wed, a man, after countless hushed affairs, still held a blind woman to scorn her. Anger chased the thought away. Gritting to stand. They didn''t deserve better. She deserved better, but the path remained shrouded; vaults were seal, knowledge taken, her training cast aside. Half thought Techniques and Cultivation methods would remain hazardous or empty. The moment her father decreed her banished, it was over. There was nothing to regain favor. The only thing of value remaining was her name; one she had "no right" to bear. But it served, if nothing else, cutting through the line to gain a Dungeon slot. Fighting on the brink, all for a simple chance at becoming more. She called upon her rewards. The energy of the World seeped into her body. Finding their places in the far corners of her being. Her wounds began to close, and bruises set to return her lush olive skin. Then, it stopped. She hoped for more, and sighed-- it appears this was the limit for her body and this Dungeon. There no improvement to her foundation or energy, nor any sign that she was adjusting. It had been four years since she deviated from Cultivating, and yet, the wall stood still. She stared at the dagger in her hand, a fine blue sheen glided along the flat edge. Perhaps this was something special? A Rare find? Maybe she would have enough money to finally afford some decent equipment? It pained her in a way, relying on luck. She sheathed her longsword, passing through end portal. A moment of darkness, and the world shone through. The morning sun blared over the crest of the shallow cavern. A man awaited at the edge. Decked in armor, spear in hand, and a sand dial in the other.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. "Two minutes under," Dieter waved his spear to the not too distant clerk, seated in his own shed. Calling names of those who awaited further in the shadows of the forest. Delphine stood by as party of four took their quick glances before they retreated into the dark. Her faint hand took back the dial. "This your last?" Dieter knew the answer. If he didn''t after two years of passing, he wouldn''t be a Dungeon Guard. "Yes," dissuading the group. "Don''t take too much to heart miss," He stood guard regardless. "You''re far ahead of countless others your age." Maybe for the peasants, but not her half-siblings. A pause looming over them, she turned without a word, but she could not ignore the weight of each step; paces away, yet she could not leave without relief. A burning question within her heart, "Do you think I will live long enough to match my father?" A tick shot his left eye, but that was enough-- the man would never say but... "The world is vast and prosperous-- I wish you well, young miss." His voice and mana carried only to her, a lingering tone. Perhaps she would not see him again? Tier 0 and 1 were his post, 2 was her ambition. She almost had enough nerve in her wears to make the attempt. She sighed. Why was everything needlessly complicated. Her feet left to trail through the forest, and to the subtle plains. The Capital''s walls stood in the distance, she paused for herself-- knowing, someday, she prayed to need not look back to this place. This last reward, was just another step. Tomorrow another, Marick would surely have more fetch quests-- the bastard-- him, the League, her father-- all of them could be damned to the hells, for all she cared. This was her life, and no one else''s. # # # The merchants of Berlemn quarried with faux smiles. Haggling and shouting to peasants young and old, careful with the Ascendants that came to gawk their wares. The ones that continued on-- the "young" ones; the newly Rebirthed were simple to spot. Two fellows pasted her, their minds absent; eyes reading empty space-- doubtless on their ways to the more restricted markets, or the Offices of Dungeon Affairs. Terrible habit. How could you be so oblivious as to let your guard when a thousand eyes could track your ever move? No matter their newfound power, a peasant gang with some lower Ranked Artifacts was enough of a threat to them. She shook her head. Too many whispers where trails went cold. They knew-- surely they had to, the countless warnings by the guard and clerks weren''t for nothing... or so she heard. Yet the whispers continued, unknown to those of the Tempering Realm; snubbing the complaints of the scarcity beyond their power. And when the time came; when their luck would be their end, it was best to learn fast, or be done with the World of Ascendants entirely. One way, or another... Naive souls, reaped by hollow eyes. Her gaze lingered on the veterans in passing; those who had robust wears, weapons, armor, and the occasional ornate piece. All estrange, yet their attention seemed to pass over; a simple reminder, to keep her distance. Before they disappeared, into the thick crowd, or down the shrouded allies. Gone, without a trace. Left alone, and unbothered. Her grip tightened on her sword unconsciously as she arrived at the end of the line. She looked over the man''s shoulder to see the wait, and groaned. The gruff man turned his head and nodded in agreement. There were many Appraiser Cloaks in line. It would be a long wait till the Obelisk today. The line continued to trudge, as was the experience of all. Because it was decreed-- not by her father, but by the World''s Law; ''no one shall block or favor access to the Obelisks of the Land, Seas, or Skies,'' less they, everything and all around, be eviscerated; body and soul, the land buried to ash. Knowledge of the Ugenki Capital was taught to all Ascendants. It''s said that the land still smolders to this day, that not even the most prominent Druids could settle the destruction and return the land to green. Such is the threat that loomed over the city. The queue continued as she saw the guards posted along the tops of an enclosed wall; wrapping around each of the four street corners. Branching with small bridges overhead as they all encircled the white Obelisk. A placid resolve plastered on everyone of their faces. Determined to keep the line, to keep order, before the judgment of the World. She didn''t know if this was toeing the line as many scholars thought, "The Obelisks are not for us to command, they are meant to be free as the World, without restrictions of our ways, for all sacred Life..." Never bar a man nor creature from their intent upon touching an Obelisk. But it wouldn''t matter, now, those are for sovereigns to tussle with. Not her. The throne was but a dream, though a nightmare it may as well be. A vein tick by the hour. Doing everything she could to not start grinding her teeth. Another hour passed, before she arrived before one of overhanding bridges. A guard stood on and bellow the entry way. Enclosing a circle by the Obelisk, facing her lane, as did the other three; forming a circle around. Her eyes wandered overhead, meeting a guards gaze with no contest. Refinement Realm, fifth minor. She thought, his eyes left to survey down the line. It wasn''t long before she saw the lower guard motion her forward. The man before her returned with a sullen expression. Such is the life, and rarities. All it took was a single step to have countless eyes upon her. Entering the enclosed circle she controlled her pace, expressions, mana-- everything the best she could. Passing the guard to face the white marble towering three times her height. There no trace of mana, no wisps of Insights, but every being knew what this was. Something deep in her soul told, ''This was the connection to the World.'' If only there wasn''t company. A migraine began to pulse as she felt the chaotic mana signatures from the adjacent face. As both were taken by Appraisers; minions and merchants more than not, their single profession resigned to taking unknown inventory and wading the line when others couldn''t bother. Their brown robes covered them from head to toe, their enchantments sparkled; muffling the mana around them as they blocked all who tried to sense their origin. Though sometimes, the stronger ones went further. And inflicted their defenses more than they should. She frowned, glaring. These people were strong, or at least they carried under order of some of note. Let it be worth it. She wanted to get this over with, a gentle hand touched the smooth surface. A will was all that there ever was; a desire to uncover the truths of the items within her [Inventory]. The more exception, unique, powerful... the longer it took, it was a constant battle of focus. It was all it ever was... all she had ever known to be. There was no warning; no sound, no energy. She was there, trying to keep her head straight, and then-- the world went white. She gasped, her heart jumped. Trying to call upon her mana, but... there was nothing. No matter what she did, all she could do was stare. What... is this?! She didn''t expect an answer, but the World replied.
A Choice.
A Life Your Own Or An Aid in Journey
Countdown: [2:58]
The Screens flickered to life without warning, unnatural; to each their own, floating free of her gaze. An Aberration?! A new Dimension of the World?! She had never heard of anything deviating the space of Dungeons, Rifts, or Zones. This... she didn''t know what this was-- was she losing her mind? Her gut churned. There was a call, a whisper to her very soul. Ethereal. Omnipotent. Commanding. Caring. Judging. "Choose." Her being shuddered, and she knew; when the time went. She would be free, to continue as she had been. On her own; A Life of her Own. But, against her fear, against the unknown. There was no quelling the desire; to be more. It had never been easy, why start now? The World hummed in reply, the Screens flickering off; one by one-- sucking in a breath, she felt a tug on her back. She blinked and the White space was gone-- returning to the noise of faint chatter, staring at her own assigned face. Panic arose within her, trying as she might to keep control, she couldn''t bring attention to herself. Not like this. Dungeons were one thing, but the Obelisk-- her mind paused. Catching the robes of familiar company, and further, the next people in line. It couldn''t have been more than a few seconds. She retreated her hand, slowly, and by returned under the bridge with a sullen expression. Much to the surprise, and smile, of the woman next in line. No one looked at her any different, trying as she might to keep her eyes forwards, her senses peeled. The itch to see her Screen left her internally whining. Soon... Just keep it together. She repeated over and over, past the gate, and off the beaten path, till a road appeared out of nowhere. Leading to a broken stone arch. Empty of guards, for what was there a need with a mighty formation? Delphine passed through; the insignia in her [Inventory] gave entry. Accepting her, as the folds of reality bent and a view of diverging stone paths before her. A towering castle stood in the distance. The main path transition from grey to pristine white. There was no gate at the end, but a woman seated in an ornate chair. Melonie; a clerk who divided the path of grey and white, and guided all those who entered into the hidden realm. Those who were family and guests. That which she was not. Melonie looked up from her musing, a book in hand. Giving a simple nod of her arrival. She followed the encircled path, only for the journey to be a ways off, more towards the grass, the forest creeping into view before engulfing it all. Bare of any trails, she followed her heart; winding through the unnatural terrain to a small outcrop of flat ground. Where her home stood against its age, and growing moss. There was little furnishing with the lodgings of an outcast. A bed, a dinning table accommodating a single chair, and bookshelves; lining every wall, nearly filled to the brim. Some of her own purchases, but most of this was here before she ever came. Remnants of the forgotten. She rested her closed sheath on the table. Taking a breath to calm her beating heart as she opened her World Screen. A numbered marker on her [Quest] label caught her eye, as she willed forth the only quest on her list.
Name : Redemption of the Abandoned -- The First Step Type : Person -- Chain Sequence : First Description: To the chosen few, fate is a perilous endeavor. Know that you are not one, but many, and many, are yet not tied to this one. But all lines are drawn, and promises placed, for the Legends known, and yet to be named. Learn, and Temper, the journey is not yet an end, but the first step, towards the far horizon. Current Objective : Travel to the City of Halo on the Akes Continent Optional Objective : Travel to Ostray City -- [??? : ?? : ?? : ??] Main Objective : Ascend to Foundation Establishment (Peak) Judgment : Death Or Dismissal Punishment : Cultivation / Experience Locked - 20 Years Reward: ???
She blinked, rubbing her eyes. And yet the Quest remained-- she closed them, focusing the mana within her. Tracing the old ways; to her mind and back again, she followed. Peering for any sense of decay or toxins. But she remained lost, nothing in the ''Dark Howl Dungeon'' could result in such things. It''s monsters long since deduced of abilities, affinities, and inflictions. So when her eyes opened again, she couldn''t quell her heavy heart. Hundreds of quests. Thousands of hours. And for all that she knew, this... this was no illusion, "Impossible..." Her words died a whisper of a million questions. Yet she focused on a single pressing matter, the ''Optional Objective,'' and felt the return of urgency. She couldn''t let this slip away-- time was of the essence; there was no certainty that what she saw today would be there tomorrow. Because... for whatever the reward maybe, there was a consistent truth amongst the World''s Quests. ''The more you accomplish for the World, the greater reward it shall give in turn.'' She wasn''t about to let this pass. Not in a billion years. # # # A thin gem rested in her palm, six sides adorned the grey mimic of ancient coins. It''s smooth face bare of any discernible markings, and yet she had never known a Land to not use Crystals as currency. It was the only proof that remained consistent. Rewards from the Dungeon, and those callous merchants uniting the world over. A small sack laid on the table half filled with such gems. But she returned the Grey and picked through her trove, flushing out three red Crystals. It''s face swirling to the faint shimmering center. Ninty-seven Greys. Three Roses... It was close. New equipment, armor, sharpening, rations-- a map if I can... and then, tomorrow... Her hand twitched, the Crystal fell with a resounding ring. Off the table it bounced right by the lifted floor board. She rose with a heavy breath, her footing not as solid as she wanted. A knee touched the floor, as she reach-- it fell again. "Come on," yanking the Crystal Rose. Brushing along it''s glimmer, scowling. Her mother''s face overshadowed her mind, looking down atop her bronze throne. She remembered; for a moment she was sixteen again, but-- damn it, if she couldn''t take the first steps-- when would she?! She strapped her sword. Flushing worn coat from under the bed, laying to rest on her shoulders. Her hand clasped the hilt, the other closed around her sack. A shroud of mana protected it from the senses of would-be thieves. Leaving as the sun was till high. The Avatars would be out delving, the stores should be free. Better now than later. Melonie didn''t spare a glance at her passing, returning to the roads beyond the folded realm. Along finer stones, she walked up to a small iron gate. Varied Refinement Realm Guards manned its passage. Peasants would not see it''s sight; it''s what kept this place quiet, less eyes to hound her passing. The few boons the name did bring. It took but a glance, the insignia on display; a crest of a silver mace flared with light. The guards broke rank, quickly ushering her in through one of the personal entrances of the troop. Many dissuaded her presence entirely; hiding behind helms and doors. Fools. What could she do? Her father would probably take anyone of these men as another son than to have her. Always looking for power... the mood slightly sour. Beyond the wall, there was no crowd. But the smiles of knights and dames, hand-in-hand, their fine wears and poise against gaudy merchants. The shouts of noble children passed, followed by some stressed servants, eager to end the day. She paused. Finding the back alleys. What she needed couldn''t be found here in her time. Not with her trove. Away from the wealth, she kept to the small streets. Passing under a subtle arch, and a looming wall. The guards eyed her from above as below, but never stopped those from leaving. The stone turned to cobble, cracked, chipped along the warped surface. The alleys became cramped, while the walls became thin, forcing her to take the streets. Muddled voices of men and woman argued. Children crying through the harsh undertones. Absent of the peasants that parted, glimpsed her sword, giving way. It seemed to be a constant within the walls of the poor. She didn''t know why her senses drifted to such things. After the dozenth time finding a child bruised from a fall, or a lover cheating with another, it should have been done. Yet it stayed. As she found tired eyes from worn wears trailing the moment. Here a second, forgotten the next. Her steps didn''t falter, but her mind lingered. Her heart lurching. Their plight evident, as she hated the aches of mourning, but her mana went along it''s own way. While she could only follow within, continueing towards the edge. The only solace was that it hadn''t become worse. The people endured. Weathering the seasons at the turn of their lives, some for the chance at becoming a Cultivator or Avatar. But most simply lived, struggling, more; deeper in the dark alleys. And yet, people remained together. Old couples passed, their arms locked supporting each other. Large families and orphaned caretakers took children to the brighter parts of the Capital. Faces she did not know, yet faintly recalled seeing throughout the years. Where she saw people disappear from the World of Ascendants, the World of Peasants remained. Together, bonds in the little homes she would never call more than a moment were a lifetime of some. The same faces day by day, a smile every so often. It was strange, a wonder through time. Her mind gained a painful pressure. The dull colors became more vibrant, feeling an onset of a migraine. Her teeth clenched. Her mana accelerated, her control wavering. She was losing... again, her Mana began to drift; seeping out to the world. The peasants felt a shiver. Today, of all days-- no she couldn''t, she wouldn''t! Her grip tightened, as a snarl crept. Peasants departed in fright. Good. Each step she felt her muscles burn, her mana pathways shaking in a turbulent course. Resigning to a dark alley, she slid down along an old building. She had made a promise. Never... She would never falter. Never fall-- never lose the years of endless toil because she lapsed. Control... Control. Control! A creaking echoed through the rush of blood. Her veins popped, scalp tingled. She pulled, compressed, a desperate plea-- her body trembled, the World continued to sup on the flakes of what she could not contain. She fought, daring to dream of the next stage, of hope beyond this place. She just needed to hold on, and all will be well. If not, then-- No-- She dared not question, only kept on cycling her mana. The sun passed high above, a shallow breath let her see through the light of the mid-afternoon. A taste of salt on her lips. Her weight supported by a wall. She dared not trust her legs. But she could not loiter, she promised. Mana reinforced her legs, pushing through. The few continued to dwindle. As did the peasantry attire, found no pride. Where once pieces were uniform, became nothing but scraps. Pieced together by a myriad of different sizes, where color faded to time and coatings of soot. She was weak, vulnerable. But fear was a valuable thing; with just a look, their dull eyes would widen, brake fast down to the broken alleys. Soon it was, but a few moments. As the capital wall loomed overhead, seeing the chipped grain from the centuries. It''s towering stature grand as Hovein Castle. Casting a looming shadow over the street come dusk, and the arrival of the "False Night". The buildings climbing the wall still yet had light. But for many they would not stand a decade more, as their forms were weathered and broken. Here, of all places, was her salvation. Where the creeping rot eroded the walls, and stones chipped off their foundations, stood a building in mimicry. It''s lopsided, cut form, made its dark wood hideous in symmetry, with nails a plenty; disorganized, some with no purpose, others crooked; sticking out of the wood. She thought nothing of it-- years ago, she stood before the building in much the same way. If anything changed, she knew to steady her breath and prepare. For everything was a battle to the end. She entered, and a night of candle light came with. There was no smell of rot, no lingering light of cracked wood. Only the sparse podiums of large candles adorned the space. Dripping in wax, overflowing their place and onto the floor. The scent of candy tickled her nose. "Are you ever going to clean this up?" She said. The clerk standing where he always was, shrouded in robes of shaded yellows. Resigned to a small desk blocking the dark curtain beyond the entrance. "Ha. Ha-- HaHaHaha..." Marick''s robs shook, waving without the wind. "Why?" She sneered at his tone, useless. Delphine approached the counter seeing the bundle of cloth stretch, he was certainly smiling. The prick. No doubt shrouding himself in high level enchantments. "In this part of the Captial? Lady Dawspire, surely you jest." Probing her patience; she felt her annoyance start to overcome the pain. "But what can I do you for today?" She wasted not a second, summoning her rewarded dagger to the table, accompanied by her longsword, and unbuckled armor. Ready and poised. She was not leaving without something good. "Do you think you can handle the repairs by morning?" She asked, as Marick took a placid expression. Showing no interest as the goods were brought. "I''m assuming this is part of the deal," he asked. Lifting up the dagger, "May I?" Delphine nodded, and the item disappeared to his [Inventory]. "Mmmm, Common." He summoned it in hand, imparting some mana that Delphine could not define. It took to mimic, perhaps a variant of a shrouded technique of sorts? But such things were rare, confined in secret, even after all these years, she was no closer to finding out the truth of this man. Or his presence in this run down street. "Oh, high conductivity... neutral alignment... yes," Marick analyzed, laying the dagger on the table. "An Advanced Common dagger. Not a bad haul, but it won''t be near enough to cover all this." He motioned, "and be done by the dawn." She tossed her trove onto the table, handing off a list of required items. He hummed, "I see-- you finally skipping the prison you call home?" She frowned. Marick was not known to tell his sources, "Can you do it or not?" "No." Her jaw dropped. Despite the ass, Marick always-- always pulled through, "What you mean you can''t?!" Marick held up a hand, "Lady, the smiths already have their queues in order for the next week at least. Unless you want your life in the hands of a novice, I suggest another course of action." Her rage paused, "What?" "A trade, we''ll take your wears and give you something of equal value. Might not be the same style, or uniform, but it''ll get the job done." Leering, "And it will fit?" "Are your fittings still the same for this armor?" He asked. "Yes?" "Then we can manage." Laying the list on the table, "The rest will be waiting with your new gear." Marick attempted to reach for her trove. She smacked his hand away, "Quote first." Marick grumbled, "Come on. You know I''m good." "Quote," she insisted. "There are some days I wished I never taught a princess how to haggle," He said wistfully. Now he was spouting lies! "Or, taught her so much to give me attitude." Shaking his head. "Attitude? This is not-- Marick, just give me the quote." She growled. He sighed. "Very well, but you should learn to check your tone. Merchants are petty folk; sometimes your coin might be good, but not your business. Remember that." He said, taking out a pen for some calculations. "Let''s see, this would be about... Two-Hundred and seventy-eight Greys, and four Flakes." "Two roses and ten Greys," she countered. "Oooo, we''re dealing in Roses?" He looked to contemplate, "Very well. Two Roses, and ten Greys." She gave half up front; a single rose and five greys. "Not so hard? Was it Lady Dawspire." The wrapping upon his face stretched. "You are a shrewd man Marick," glad to be nearly done with him. The man gasped, leaning back. A hand overlapped a false would on his chest. "I am hurt, after all we''ve been through." She had enough to this. Turning without care, trying her best to keep her heart steady. Feeling naked without her armor and sword. "You know a Lady doesn''t always have to be so col--" The door closed before another word. The day was yet to be done, but would it be enough? After all these years, she had to face her mother again. She hoped she was ready. # # # Three decades, give or take a few years. How time flies, don''t it? "Should be about time I head out this place?" Marick smirked. "Would have one less thing to worry about. Ain''t that right, Margot?" The wood creaked in protest, unfolding like paper along the left wall. Draped in black, not even Marick could see her eyes. Her enchantments were silent, techniques near mastery. It''s a shame she had such few interests. "Your jokes are not well received." Margot flicked a bug off her shoulder. Splatting it''s black gooey insides on the wall. "Why, don''t you like company?" He hated cleaning the boards. Margot showed nothing, "There will be no favoritism." "Yeah," He scoffed at her one track mind, "Your policies are all over the place, you know. Especially your King, he really gets around like a--" A heavy pressure fell on his shoulders. The wood cracked. An aura of dark green shimmered her form. "I am warning your Marick." "Jeez, always so serious." He poked, but the pressure did not let. A frown crossed his lips, "Fine. Fine, spoil sport." Margot stood silent, releasing the pressure in an annoyingly slow pace. Still, his curiosity got the betting of him. "The young Lady looks to be leaving you all behind, has the stallion been informed?" The woman turned without a word. Shadows and wood caressed her form, as the building folded to her mana. Disappearing from his little informants. Humorless crow. He looked past the door; reaching out with his own senses to follow the messy mana. Struggling to keep her composure; stumbling every fifth step. Poor girl. The road is far wider and longer than you might think Delphine. He thought, lifting the payment with his mana, trailing his steps into the backroom. Candles aligned the walls with weapons and armor unfit from the notice of the World. Yet further he traveled, down to a set of stairs, to a junkyard of a basement. Filled with all sorts of unprocessed metals and wood. An annoying hoard for any lackey, but it was never more than a show. He traveled to a corner. With a wave, the black stone disappeared as ash to the wind. Returning upon his descent further, deep into the dark. Far, far bellow the city''s wards. And soon enough, a rousing slush echoed. Turning louder as his feet enter the wide room, standing before a pit big enough to swallow the house above. His bond certainly could-- belch. He chuckled, throwing her items in without care. Slipping the folds of his enchanted wrappings-- he tossed the Rose and Greys in; their light fading into the dark. White Runes formed within the cytoplasm, morphing into countless rings. Swirling, exchanging the flow of the World''s truth. "The things I do for charity," he said. Fifty-three gifts, if he counted right. Each time, raising his hands in an old motion. As the mana began to dance, he followed. Around the pit he trailed. His bond gaining a flux of an auburn haze. A call resounded from the pit. Intent as one. "Stay strong kid," he whispered. Because life and time will not be so kind. # # # The morning crest; the light shining through the briefest cracks of forest and fog. Dew dripped off the cabin window, refracted bits of dawn upon her. She laid in bed, her heart beating the bellows of a hundred swollen drums. What must to have been a thousand thoughts played the morning to come. The night spent with her eyes burned to the ceiling. Forgetting to blink. Forgetting to sleep. In the end, she forgot the plan... as she remembered, her mother''s screams in childhood. Her eyes glaring on the day of exile, and the anger to come. "...Leave this place, and never return. For nothing good will come to you on these hallowed grounds." Recalling her mother on the first anniversary of her exile. Speaking for two, and left just as quickly. The last she bore the eyes of her family. Her brothers, and step-- whatever, none would give her a moment, barely a glance. Walking on their own paths, departing from the other entrance of the Hidden Realm just to avoid her presence. Massaging her eyes. Tired, but the wheat sack on the table awaited. It didn''t take long, her clothes hung over the chair. With her boots laced, the last of her wantings came. She hesitated with a great sigh, glazing over the collection of books. Drifting to the floor board below. She got on her knees and lifted, picking up the seal of the hidden cavity. Barren; but a dry hole in the ground. She flipped, caressing the board. Revealing the markings of others she had never known, their names long forgotten by scores of thick ink. Remembered by the remnants of structures that allowed her to live as she was. By the well; on the far edge of the forest. When the drier seasons came, and the water levels dipped, the name ''Saxon'' would appear on the deepest block of stone, touched by the light. Tucked away, behind the rows of books, laying flat on the lowest shelf; the name ''Charlotte'' appeared. And, on the board, two more were written; ''Tanja'' and ''Detlef.'' She clicked her tongue. Maybe she should have done this before going to Marick. Her finger curved as she willed her mana to form a crude tip. Sweat beat down her brow, struggling as she carved her name. A small gasp left, standing on shaky legs. Fishing her trove she took out fifteen Greys from the jute to the leather sack. Tossing it into the hidden hole. She sealed the board; returning how everything was. How it all began, leaving her with a chance. For the next person this rotten family think to judge. She stepped out, the sun blaring down. A sack over her shoulder, closing the door as her heart wandered, looking around the forest; for a sign. Of things to come. Some... realization, some proof. She turned to the dawn; their most sacred crossroads of worship and honor, the source of eternal fire. The symbol of her life that reigned; the golden fire shinning from the silver mace. Together they were one, for one, and only. And soon, neither would be hers. Delphine turned away, and for the first time since her Rebirth she threw the prayer away. Not a thought, no lingering wish for the sun. It was only her, and the road ahead. One, at least a brief while, would not be new, but it would be the last one she would tolerate. One last time. She would follow the grey stone and move in the shadow of Hovein. Melonie sat reading, as always. Not paying her mind this early in the morning. It was normally time for her to delve, but when her foot touched the white stone the woman''s head wiped up, her gaze sharpened. Descending from her chair to meet Delphine part ways. "So, today?" Melonie spoke, her eyes wandering her over. Glancing at the morning light with a frown. "She''s not going to be happy about the time." She scoffed. "I''ll be out of her hair for good-- she''ll get up." Melonie sighed, but made no assumptions. Motioning her to follow. The path of white; the final line of the prodigious line of the the Dawspire Royal Family. Knights and promising talents walked all the way to the great castle of Hovein, where they would be offered a hand; for a lifetime of service. Resources and gifts she once dreamed, now as distant and faded as her childhood. Their travels did not come far, as they walked off the path to a road at the edge of the housing segments. Her stomach churn. Her shoulder ached a long healed wound. When they arrived to the house fit to look more like a fine inn, and knocked on the door-- her heart beat faster. They waited, for how long? Trying to fight off the rising headache. The door opened by a woman stewing in silent rage. Her hair was a mess, blood shot eyes told of her lack of sleep. And her clothes... she was still wearing her night gown, rather than the custom fine silk wears Delphine was use to. Though they were stretched, cascading over a swelling bump. She''s pregnant, again. Delphine looked on, as her eyes rose to meet her mother. The woman leered, without a word held out her hand. Courtesy demanded a brief ceremony... at least that''s what she was told on the day of her ousting. Melonie frowned, as her words didn''t live up to the tale she told on her final day. Regardless, she took out the insignia from her pocket. Tossing it over to the woman, catching it with a discerning eye. Slamming the door. Leaving them to silence. Delphine look on to Melonie, a vein throbbed her stoic appearance. "I''m sorry," Melonie gave a small bow. "I hadn''t thought she would be so brazen, but with your Crest no longer with you, I have to ask you to leave immediately... Are you aware of the departing practice?" She nodded. No longer a Dawspire. "Then, Delphine I wish you well in your life and fortunes." A hand placed upon her shoulder, "Be free. And don''t look back." Her lips thinned, biting her tongue. Holding back the pressure behind her eyes. She turned, steeling her heart. The night was wasted; there wasn''t even a word. An exchange to prop herself-- to prove that she wasn''t just an afterthought. Yet none of it mattered, did any of it? Past the gate, was a new world. A new path to take, she looked to the clear sky, finding it blur as her tears fell. Be it happy or sad, what did she know? V1.P1 - Interlude : Love and Legacy On the highest peak of the Castle of Hovein there exists a table of ornate stone, carved within fine gems; two sides, Ascendants on one, with the rising red carapaces on the other; a mockery of Man''s flesh. A subtle Intent lingered within, faded but an ancient''s will, before even the World''s Voice was heard by all, the table stood, against the trials of time, it survived. Bringing with it, a sharp mind, and unwilling focus to the battle within it''s confines. He needed every bit, for the annoyance came. Jane sat with the demons, a slouch, dressed in her blues, supping upon infused white wine; made from the finest Labliesis Grapes on the continent. Were they not neighbors, doubtful they would be allies. The smile on her face only made Conrad frown on the inside, for interrupting his meditation, more so. But the woman''s sense was caught on the distant gate. One of his children chose today to be the time of resignation. "Must be hard Conrad, for all that a man could have countless wives and bear hundreds of offspring. Not one has risen to your liking?" He let his frown be known, "Many would take your words as an act War to quell their rage." Jane chuckled, "But you are not the man who would delve into petty violence for simple words?" "No. No I am not." "But that girl, First of the Refinement Realm. Of what? Mid twenties? It''s adequate, if anything." He scoffed. "We are not some middling power Jane." Jane tapped her lip, "But still you are letting her go? Bolstering a lineage with the nearby nobility is a common practice in this land, no?" "The Dawspire''s are more than petty bonds-- perhaps holding a single Tower is not so hard when compared to the sovereign powers of this nation." Jane hummed. "A hypocritical statement is it not? You leave your Kingdom less defensed and unified in the powers that matter, while you''re sending your offspring into such a heartless world?" "To imply the world is kind is a joke." He centered his poise, his Intent surged with conviction. "To throw your will into my family is cause, I will not have such words spoken here." "Then what is it? Why do you care?" The annoyance pressed. Her eyes sparkled, ever curious. A constant hunt for questions. "A mercy." He receded. "And a choice, to leave with the final gift I am allowed to bear-- anonymity. They are warned, so long as they don''t speak of their past, their future is as bright as they could make it. Free from my enemies and allies." "Allies? Would you care if I take the girl?" Conrad smiled. "Ah, to be so young, and yet hit a wall. I wish you well with your future endeavors." Jane frowned, the woman was handled. And a spark of joy swelled deep in his soul. "Such a shame." She said, taking a sip of her wine. "Savor the moment Jane," He would savor the day after. "Time will tell that our next meeting is far further than you would imagine." She frowned more. Good. He looked past the false horizon; the world beyond the hidden realm. Finding the sight of Delphine, walking away, each step filled with conviction towards her own life. His heart stung. He remembered the day of her birth, the cries of her first breath still echoed in his ears. Come time a week after, he allowed himself to hold her. Taking her to one of the most sacred grounds he kept to himself. The Altar of Balg; his most sacred ground. None, not even his most promising heirs were allowed to set about it freely. Save for that first week. The moments of cradling his newborn were pure bliss. Keeping him steady. He prayed to Balg, the last semblance of his hopes came with his conviction as he delved into his child''s gifts. Feeling their potential. Searching for any hope of his dealings with Balg. Imagining their future with each tick of the clock. The day Delphine''s test ended, he felt like a dragon had struck him. Her roots were sparse and thinner than her brothers and sisters, bare of any specialty. So faint, it wasn''t worth noting. He saw, he felt, in all of the lands he governed he knew. Amongst all his people, her talent was only fair at best. But perhaps this was what was needed? Hardship against fate, against himself? For his children to rise and claim his mantle... he thought, he tried, but... Each and every time, come their eighteen birthday he could not help but confine himself. Forced to cast out his children to the edges of his realm. It hurt. Each and every time. His heart couldn''t handle it, they could not bear his name. They would die before the end of their fifth decade. So he forced them to turn away from the throne, so that they might have some prosperity for their own futures.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Free of him and his sacred duty. His vision focused, moving past his child. To the line just outside of his capital, families lining, awaiting entry. Absent of bloodied orphans and widows, families unbroken. His pride swelled, keeping his heartache at bay. This was his purpose, his longing, burning deep within his soul. It was his utter joy, his children... at least one had to understand, at least one had to have the makings of a ruler when his time came. By death or ascension, the land that he fought so hard to embrace peace, would find war at the front of their homes. He couldn''t have that, he couldn''t have his people suffer. He loved his children, near and dear to his heart... but the families yet found, the children yet born-- his had to be the sacrifice, he would be the sacrifice. An arm, a leg-- his body, and soul. He would give it all, to protect the land from all those who would seek it''s harm. He was Conrad Dawspire; Champion of the Balg, The Daybreaker, King and Solemn Protector of the Dawspire Kingdom-- he had his duty, and he will follow it to the end. # # # Xu Wen bowed before the doors of the Council of Elders, and held. Waiting for the Elders to deem it appropriate for her presence. But why would they need it? No one should be needing her presence after her Master''s will. Sweat trailed down her back. When the doors opened, time was not a factor. But gentle steps followed as to not disturb the ground she tread upon. Though stone, preservation was insisted by her earliest memory. If one could not let even stone be, then how could they ever tread creation with reverence? The brief hall was bare, save for the vibrate plants that decorated the edges of the walls with vines climbing, clinging to the ceiling. She breached the hall with a subtle breath, the rows of elated chairs of the Elders were before her. Veiled upon white cloth from their boxes, soft lanterns illuminating but silhouettes. The lowest of the rows were the Outer Elders, above were the Inner Elders, and further on, elevated even higher back were the Grand Elders. All three were present, seated and posed. Xu Wen shuddered. Their Intent escaped as streams flowing around their pedestal, and the mark of history which draped below them. A tapestry of a pond, filled and flowing from rivers in all cardinal directions. Mortal waterlilies guarded the legend of prosperity, harmony, and beauty; the Marine Flame Calla Lily. Once it was a single plant with three petals; one for fire, another for water, and the last for wood, growing from the bud of balance. It''s said that whoever consumed the petals would gain their respective affinities, increasing their Spirit Roots in the process. A tale told by a few rarer plants, but a legend would not be so trifling. The last of the petals would have their sect defend against the entire continent should it exist in their halls. What the Petals gave, the Balance unified. A flawless body of Water, Wood, and Fire, would align, should the person be so gifted by the Heavens to have the affinity for Metal and Earth, the Bud was said to smooth out any imperfections, adjusting the body to create a Heavenly Defying Talent. The Harmony of the Five Elements Physique. So told her departed Master in confidence admits countless Formations. The Ancestor of their Sect, and the fabled vanguard against the Demonic Blossom... "Step forward, disciple Xu Wen." A voice pierced the room, a presence overshadowed the Grand Elders. The memory of her Master paled in comparison. It felt familiar-- more than a hundred years ago, she remembered... when the Eternal Evergreen Sect passed it''s seven-thousandth year of reign-- when, their Sect Master spoke. Her heart picked up an unwanting pace as she stowed away her footwear, descending to the steps below. A pond was carved in the center of the room, Nascent Water Lilies shifted in bright tones of whites and blues, decorating the surface. All save for a single spot, the center which was presented. She stepped onto the water with a great deal of care. Each stride further left no wake as her Qi shrouded her robes, and upheld her body. She kowtowed with every ounce of control she could muster, and upon her head touching the water she allowed a single lapse. As a circle rode the water, fading before it could touch the edges of the pond. Murmurs of approval came with her raised head. "You''ve done well, Disciple Xu Wen." Kai Ye; her Sect Master, spoke without Intent. "Your praise means much to me, Sect Master." She bowed her head. "Time is of the essence Disciple, as does the Sect have a grand task for you. Should you accept?" His voice calm and concise, but it weighed on her. She had yet to ingrain her Master''s legacy. "Forgive me Sect Master, but this one is undoubtedly unworthy of such a task amongst my sisters and brothers who eclipse my understanding and strength." She bowed her head in custom, a shameful display she needed to play. "You believe yourself to be unworthy?" The Sect Master mused, "And yet it is I who had called upon this meeting, and the Grand Elders who nominated you? Are you saying you are unworthy of such praise?" Her heart skipped a beat... this, this was what Master warned her about. Careful words amongst many eyes... she bowed her head in shame. "Sect Master forgive my impudence, but I have yet to shine beyond my Master''s shadow. For a lowly disciple like me, what could I bring but shame to the Sect when I have yet to master it''s teachings." She played her hand-- harsh whispers swirled around, as unknown pressure gripped her heart. Her future becoming distant. The pond much colder. A hum silenced it all. She could feel the presence of the Sect Master studying her. "Indeed, talent and will can only come so far without guidance." The Sect Master mused, "Inner Elder Ling Ming''s passing was a blow to the Sect we have yet to recover," Xu Wen internally held her words. "But the mission takes precedence, however I shall nominate an Inner Elder in the spirit of your Master." There was no escape now, "I''m honored by your benevolence, Sect Master." "And I by your loyalty," his presence blanked the room. "Leave us." Without a word of objection, the Outer and Inner Elders filed out of the room by another entrance. That which she couldn''t, hadn''t a clue where it was, as she saw, only the Grand Elder''s stayed behind. "This mission, is to be carried out by the utmost secrecy. Any whisper of it''s existence, would have us take drastic measures; your Cultivation, if not your Life, disciple." The Sect Master intoned with Intent, "Do you understand?" "I do, Sect Master." Her heart pounded, while her Qi shuddered, because there was no choice. "Excellent." Was she hearing things? She could have almost sworn his tone was brighter. "Your mission, disciple, is to retrieve an Artifact long thought to be forgotten by our very own..." For a moment her thoughts lapsed, Was the Sect Leader deranged? She mentally whipped herself. The Heavens might have blessed their world, revealing wonders and paths thought impossible-- Artifacts of untold power were surely within the Sect Master''s Realm to attain. Without the call to War notable in her Master''s time. Was there truly a need for more? "...You are to retrieve, the Last Blade of the Founding Ancestor--" Her head shot up, her lips parted. "--Springtide." V1.P1 - Chapter 4 : Admits Journeys Rain poured... two months traveling alone with but the sun and thin clouds, ended with a torrent. Delphine stewed off the path. Nestled within the uncut trees. She could go no further, her coat and estranged armor had taken enough. Dissuading the cold, letting the water run off. Leaving the gaps dry, for now. Marick did good. Begrudgingly she admitted, he pulled through. But why did it have to be so vulgar; with it''s sharp cuts and strange curves, the tanned metal all but made it look corroded. He did it on purpose. She clicked her tongue. The weather, the memory of Marick; she did not know which was irking her more. They both got worse. Forcing her to camp deeper in the forest. Where the trees were thicker, older, yet the gusts shook them regardless. Lightning flickered, thunder roared against the darkened sky. Waiting until the rains took their course. She hoped, but the best she got was a faint mist. A rumble shuddering the sky. Good enough-- every second counted. Packing her things, she went. Fog rose from the muck, an hour into her travels, at the edge of sight, pillars of wood stood. A wall? A village? Delphine flicked off her [Map]; she had but two weeks left before the quarter of the continent went dark again... Her trove was too little to afford another, her Privilege level lacking. Why couldn''t there be some kind of common map with all the niche roads? One without needing the aid of the World? The map took half of the quote-- it was ridiculous. But the journey along the main roads more so. A year was Marick''s estimate, if she made good time, but by then, who knows what changes could happen with the Quest. The quicker path she chose; more expensive and, more dangerous. Here in the Gracion Forest, Beast roamed with power greater than her own. She was tired from the constant vigilance. Her walk squelched the mud. Wishing, wanting this to be all over. The sight of a guard perched above the wall made the slight annoyance settle-- for now, she wouldn''t have to tolerate this much longer. "Halt state-- gahhh." She flared her mana. The guard just about tripped over the edge. The man was barely more than a peasant, yet he spoke as if she was lesser. No-- he would come down. He did come down and opened the gate. "Apologies miss, I spoke my words without care. I hope you can forgive me, but we''ve been on the lookout for bandit scouts." Her brow creased in confusion. "Bandits, here?" They must be Ascendants for them to live close by. "How does this village still stand?" "The Gracion is unkind, to be sure. But we coast the edge; and few Beasts would make their way out from their mana rich lands. Bandits however..." His gazed looked around as he took a step closer, guaging her reaction. Settling slightly as her poise didn''t change. "Merchants have become lazy these past years, their brushing closer to the edge, and with them comes the rust." Ahh, she thought. "I see. Then I assume you have some spare rooms available." The man nodded, "You''ll have to talk to the Village Head for accommodation. But their hasn''t been a pass near a month already." "Then, I shall follow." She commanded, her senses strained. Her eyes focused; the sparse road of stone, empty of people, the state of the houses made of timber, the steps of the man before her. She dug deeper, searching for the inklings of mana. Noises came, brief whispers by the homes, but by the time she turned her head the doors and windows were shut. She frowned. The short walk had them come to a house; this one, however, it''s base was made of stone. The wood less warped, and the size; it was twice as big as the other abodes. The guard knocked. A man with thick greys and weathered skin opened the door. His smile at once turned strained, as the guard and him exchanged glances. "You''re relieved Walter." The man spoke. The guard; Walter, it would seem, nodded and went back the way he came. "Come in, please." He motioned, she hesitated. But... almost anything would be better than this muck. She tempted beyond the threshold. Nothing, there was nothing. Relief unclenched her fist. The man turned with a half smirk. Letting his power be known, she reeled. Hand flashing to her sword. Refinement Realm, Fourth Minor. "Aggressive young lady," he said. "Weariness is all in good, but there are better ways to handle unknown situations. A simple flare such as this is not a concern, especially when you''re so lapse with yours." She leered. The man was full of himself. Continuing forward. Worst come to worse, she could get away, carve out a hole in the wall and make a break. She could make it... probably. Her hand relented the hilt, but found no rest as she made her way to the sounds of metal clattering. Yet all it was but a kettle, and the man stoking the fire. "It''ll be a bit, don''t have anything fancy as running hot water ''round here." He said, taking a seat at the end of the table housing eight. She took a seat at the other end, the man only shook his head. "It be Curtis by the way, Chief of Vialin Village." She nodded, "Delphine." He hummed. "So Delphine, what can I do you for? I assume that you are looking for shelter for the moment?" "You would be correct." Wasn''t that obvious enough? "And how long do you intend on staying with us?" His voice lost a bit whimsy; aged in an instant. "A day, more if the weather returns to be unpleasant." Curtis nodded, "And your pay Gold or--" He was silenced by a Grey skipping across the table. Catching it with an appraising eye, biting it to Delphine''s confusion. "Can''t be too careful, wonders a little bit of dust and mana can make a rock shine." Her brow creased. Like anyone would be stupid enough to counterfeit Crystals. They would be marked as untrustworthy for any Merchant that took their news from the League. "But this is fine. It''ll get you four days-- three with meals." He supplied quickly, pocketing the Grey. But she wanted something more, "I need information." "Well, I don''t got a lot. But what ya want to know?" His eyes had a glint, a small smile creased. "The fastest way to Ostray City," she asked. Dissuading the danger. At the turn his eyes drifted towards the adjacent wall, "And here I was hoping for some tale..." He sighed, "Why?" She snorted, "That''s none of your business." He shrugged, "Do you at least have a route?" "Fierier Road," she supplied. The man nodded, "Consistent. There ain''t much better than the safe pass, with your power I would say... mmmm, three weeks? A little less if you push? But you should be alright." Delphine didn''t like that, not at all. "I need a faster route." "I understand, but consider your--" "Are you going to do what you''re paid for or not!" She stood with her voice. His expression turned flat. "Bitch," his lips quirked. What...?! Had she heard that wrong? "What did you just call me?!--" "There is a trail, not too far from here." Her refocus was swift. "An old merchant''s way, sometimes the Kingdom sends Runners if they have critical information to inform the Duke of Ander. Down the road just out of sight of our walls, there''s a crooked arrow, follow it and you''ll get on the path to Ostray. Should shoot you right out, a "hop-skip away", as they say." The last was much too cheery for her not to question, "And your words mean something." Curtis gave a rueful smile, "Do you have any other choice?" The kettle whistled; as the water came to boil. "I think it''s time for you to leave," he guided. From the stone home, near the lined houses along the pillars. Empty of life. Adequate, it will-- The muck squelched, kicked up in sudden motion. Her hand reached for her sword. A forearm pulled her neck, and a sharp point dung in her underarm. Her eyes wide, she tried to break. "Ah-- Ah--" The dagger dug in, breaking her undergarments. Touching skin. "One more move, and I will render your heart young lady." "What is the meaning of this!" She bellowed, her heart pumping. "Those that cannot hold their temper here, will not be welcome. Especially one of your power, a day is too much." She tried to will her mana-- only the man raised a brow, his gripped twisting the pointed blade. raised a brow, at her strain. Scoffing. "You''re a long ways away from trying anything surprising." "Let go." She gritted her teeth. "Leave this village and not return." He commanded. She blinked, sneering. "You''re taking my Crystal and leaving me with nothing, over some petty farce." "I''ve lived long enough for people like you." He returned the sentiment. "You have your information, now leave on your word or you shall never." The dagger drew a trickle of blood. Seconds passed. A minute in silence. What was happening here?! She could not comprehend, only the blade still dug. The tingle of cold metal, and the familiar feeling of a cut. The fear. The chill down her spine. She felt powerless. She hated it, everything about it. The weakness. The infallible truth. She was lesser, and bid to listen for the loss of dignity. "Fine," she forced. Her arm released, the dagger cleared of death slide to a hidden scabbard. Giving space, without a care; waving a hand to another guard to open the other gate. Exaggerating his hand as they swung open, his smile infuriating. Delphine drew her sword. The guard flinched, but Curtis stayed. Watching her as she backed through the gate, never breaking his smile as the doors sealed with the pillars. There was no ruckus, no ambush. Just the mist and muck, and the long road ahead. A tinge of regret came to her; not knowing the comfort of a bed, or the warmth of a real roof. She felt it dawn. Frustration. Anger. Everything-- all his fault! Her mana leaked, parting the mist within her reach. The world lost balance; she faltered, dancing in the muck. Growling all the while, glaring at the pillars. But nothing came, like she was an afterthought. Forgotten, as a worthless thing. Her steps were slow, heavy. With her shaky sword returned, she turned. For the challenge was not to get away, but to find a haven not touched by the rain. A miracle it would be. She stewed in her heart. Prayed in her gut. Moving forward for a moment of rest, regardless of where it came. She kept on. With the one faith that came through, time and time again. Herself. # # # There was no hope, the rain came back. Drizzling-- better than the torrent, but still irritating against her coat. If it wasn''t for the hour she caught sight of a discarded post. She might have resigned today. Damn the Village Headman, but at least his information proved real. An illegible sign lay destitute; worn away with rotten decay. A companion to the hidden wheel deep in a nearby bush, and still further on down, pieces of leather, hung from tree branches growing beyond the hem. She scraped the muck with the ruin. Sniffling a runny nose. It was harder to move, maybe this was enough, to set up camp, but... she couldn''t help it. Just a little more... Pressing along the faint signs, the moon broke through the gaps in the clouds. Revealing the stone; her new guide, as the trees slowly began their retreat. She paused. The sudden jolt, something amiss. The land sloped unnaturally. Unearthed tree roots rose with the splintered land. Laying for who knows how long, the rot and mushrooms taking over long fell trees. A battle remained a memory of the land. She swallowed her heart. What caused such destruction? Her answer came with a glance of an old stump; rent in three pieces, a malefic cut, a Beast''s mark. She stared, her heart couldn''t bear to skip anymore. Too tired, too much to carry. No safe zones. No Keystones. Out in the open wilds, anything could spell her doom in the shadows. Danger was everywhere. More so than ever. She felt sick, a hand cradled her stomach. Was this worth it... After all she gave-- she stumbled, falling on a dull log. Not a sound, but the pitter-patter of rain. Off the beaten path she watched the still darkness, and the sparse rays of the moon. Expecting something to come out. But the rain went along, for how long? Her mind went blank, as nothing happened. She rose and went, knowing at least where to return. Deeper into the forest. Where the trees were the same kind, yet they grew to tower those on the edge. When she felt the change in the air, and not a drop falling through the branches. She took a plain cube from her [Inventory]. A trickle of mana tested her will, the simple affair taxing. But pushed its way inside. She threw it, a ways away. Ten seconds passed, mana fluxed, and a tent took its place. Poles manifested from the cube, shooting out-- expanding, enveloped by a thin sheet of leather till it had three sides. A teepee, Marick called it. She flipped the heavy flap, buttoning it closed. A sleeping cot lay in the center. In the corner, on a small pedestal, where the cube turned into a triangle. Showing the enchantments were active. Three triangle cuts turned the leather transparent; one on each side, two for the split tent flap. Blocking any sight from outside; a one-way view. Noise was but a figment, muffling even the loudest scream. But most of all, a requirement she desperately vied for-- she let go. Mana trickled out, relaxing the knots within her pathways. Ridding the vile Headman from her thoughts. None would feel her presence. Flopping on the cot, not bothering with her armor or sword, her hand stuck to the hilt. This was not all she expected, this long day. Would it all turn out this way? Long empty days, dreams she would never fulfill. A purpose, and cause; a meaning not from her own family. Did she have a chance? Against her blood-relatives, against her father? It all felt so far away. Like tomorrow, it felt like weeks away. She was... tired. Trying to think of warmth. Maybe the sun would come-- Bang. A shock wave hit. The cube blared in alarm. Her heart pumped, cold sweat beat down a flushed headache. Bang! A blinding green light overtook the forest. The window bloomed with the sudden burst, she jumped, her eyes seared, trying to guage the disturbance deeper into the territory. Limited her senses were, still in the tent; what shrouded her, blinded her. There was nothing, fear aching her heart. She took her pack, unsheathed her sword. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The dark returned. This was no-- "Howl!" A wail of anger turned her head. Her gaze locked, hoping for it to pass, to miss her-- there was a movement, a moment, a flash of faint green in shadow. Her breath stopped, she needed-- The tent flap forced open. Her blade went high. A sharp-eyed man met the edge head on, be it luck or skill, he stumbled, diving to the other side of the cot. She readied another strike, her mana primed reinforcing her being. "Stop, you fool!" His arm outstretched his dirtied blued robs. A strange curved sword in his other, pointed at the ground, "The beast is near the peak of the Refinement Realm-- if the protections falter we shall both die!" She sneered. The cause. The prey. "Leave, if a Beast is onto you it won''t be only tracking your mana." As it was, the tent wasn''t equipped to hide scent. The man scowled, making no move. A tension in the air, a subtle glare at his blade. "Don''t make me kill you woman," His eyes resolved. A hum, and a waft of mana came from his weapon. I guess that''s it. It was going to happen sooner or later. Two combatants stood at the precipice. Their mana leashed enough to hide the other''s probes. Be it fate or luck, neither wanted to die. Neither wanted to waste this chance for haven, while a creature mightier than both of them prowled outside. But blades were drawn, and neither would cede. She took a breath. The foreign man did much the same. A growl took their next... The combatants flinched-- the foreigner''s eyes moved past her. His gaze to the window behind. Sweat beat down his brow, Delphine was no fool. She turned with the man, and her gut dropped. It was seconds, but it was enough. To sear the maw to memory, lurching forward. An irrepressible glee in its eyes. Seeing right through her tent. The Beast looked greater to the boss of the Exim Way; the Dark Hound. Larger; at least half a size bigger. Stronger; four realms stronger! It touched upon the very Foundation of it''s being, life, and path, it was at the Peak. This was suicide. "I warned you," the foreign said. His blade less prone. She held off from swiping her sword. Turning to glare at the arrogant shit that brought this all upon her. If the worst comes... she would need a diversion. Her heart scrunched, she lapsed, mana turbulent feeling herself losing control. No... not now! She grit her teeth. The beast''s head rose, and pounced in stride. "Damn old man!" The foreigner screamed as the tent tore open. She thought there would be more time, at least a moment of resistance. But was nothing before the Beast.. "Move!" She pushed the bastard. She charged straight, not bothering to look back and the unwanted company ran right beside her. "Do you even have a plan?!" The foreigner''s voice rang with a metallic hum. "Will you shut it!" She shouted, facing retaliation. "I swear on the World, one more word and I''ll cut your leg so the beast has something to munch on." At that the man struck dumb, again their was a faint hum. They kept running. Delphine pulled out her [Map] to estimate where they were heading. A grimace plastered her face, "Not good. We''re heading deeper in the forest." She stopped-- the man stopped with her. "What are you doing, it''ll catch up in moments!" He faced her, waving his sword around. "And if we continue, we''ll meet something even stronger than that hound." She pointed. The man had no counter, he only looked at his sword. A deep breath made the seconds seem minutes more, but his eyes gained a resolution. "We can kill it." "What?" She blurted. Kill it? They had to maim it?! Not try to kill themselves! "Together, the odds would be in our favor." He took a high stance. "You think I''m going to trust you after all that--" A muffled howl stopped her rage. A twisted smile appeared on the man. "Looks like you don''t have a choice." "I can still kill you, and leave it scraps." She retorted. The man only shrugged, "You can. But that doesn''t guarantee anything now does it?" I''m going to kill him... I''m going to kill him... Delphine took a breath, "If I see one note of betrayal I will throw everything I have to cut you down." "Perfect," his hand motioned for her to hurry. She scowled. "What? Is this not the traditional way you people set a plan... It worked the last few times--" The rush of grass put an end to their voices. Together they readied, as the sight of slit eyes became ever so clear. And the maw of serrated teeth lunged forward to the weakest prey. Her breath quickened. [Quick Feet] Her legs flooded with mana to answer. The graze of matted fur-- their eyes met-- the scent of wood and dung came with. The hound darted, its form dug the ground. Hunger in its eyes, failing one prey it sought another. Seven Petals Dancing-- Second Step There was a shallow glow, a light scent on the wind. Of Crisp Air? Morning rain? Flowers? It shifted, unknown, chaotic; not fully set. The man showed a grimace all the same as a faint echo trailed his steps. A single petal fading to the darkness. What?-- Her mind refocused, feeling an inkling of mana surge from the beast''s claws. The pair of paws rose, a jagged cut of six blades followed the man. Out pacing him-- there was nowhere to run. The Beast pounced. A surge of mana came from the foreigner-- Twin River Blossom And Delphine took her chance. One cut split into two, met across bestial blades. Whatever part left her to waver stared in awe... How much did he train to exude his mana like that? Such control, even if it wasn''t fine-- even if then, it wasn''t enough-- Twin arcs broke against the greater power, waning their strength, faltering-- they shattered. And a path laid open within. The man took it. The Beast counted on it, opening, staring, waiting-- it was almost genius, but a stupid hound all the same. [Sever] The moonlight breached the trees, her sword cleaning with mana. True as she could possibly make it, but a Beast was nothing if not instinct-- the blade was too slow, cutting the shoulder, leaving a dull red line. The hound turned, growling as the two humans stood together. "Your False Arts aren''t getting through-- an empowered sword would do better--" He caught his breath. Nearly catching her sword! But she held her rage. "What more do you have?" Nothing... nothing that she wanted to use. But certain death, was it really that much better than a painful one? She grit her teeth till her head started to shake, "Fuuuuck." "That better be something, or I''ll curse you from the five hells!" The man retorted, readying his weapon. The hound charged. Seven Petals Dancing -- Second Step The man met the beast, catching its eye, his sword gained a soft blue hue. Twin River Blossom Arcs of mana shot out. The beast dodged, Delphine shadowed, trying to catch a leg, but the Beast huffed, and side stepped without a care. She cursed. Scuttling without mana, without an available "Skill," she was falling behind. Gods dammit! She watched the foreigner battle. Sword and claw danced a hair''s breadth; the Beast furious, it''s mana pool still brimming with the strain on the man increased. It was just about-- Now! [Quick Feet] Her sword went high-- sights set for the beasts spine. [Sever] Mana came to her sword, pressing it further. Answering the call to surge, a heavy weight took her mind, the funnel of her Skill, her control, would not budge. The Beast tried to play again, letting itself sway away. Did it think going easy on her was enough? To ignore her in some way-- in anyway?! Her rage flared. She was not worthless! Delphine gritted her teeth, her foot planted. Mana surged without guidance, boosting her a half-step-- her legs pulsed in burden, following the echo that lingered, her heart pumped, her mind strained. But she did not care. The hound took another charge, watching the man''s grimace drifting to Delphine on its side. Her hands glided to grip the bladed edge, cross guard on high she surged with one thing she managed to get right. Dawspire Meteor Her mana swelled, a rocky course colored in dark grey. Before everything crashed down. Fur met the falling star. Crunch. The Beast cried. Its body couldn''t shoulder the blow. It fell-- groaning-- trying to rise with shaking steps. Yes-- The taste of iron stopped her. The rolling pain tripped her. Her body seized; convulsing, the pain excruciation as she was no the master of her own body. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. Her sight fading, the fatigue washing over. The last of the world began to fade. It was over... wasn''t it? A rolling blue-green lingered the moment, a gentle wake of picturesque water manifested, calming her turmoil. Her hazy eyes cleared for just a moment-- before a single leaf trailed the waves and descended upon the land. Eclipsing all that she could do, all that she ever saw. How can there be such a thing at her Realm... Verdant Equinox Her vision turned white, before there was nothing at all. Everything disappeared, but echo of pain and sense of empty dreams. # # # The crackle of wood sputtered. The residual pain she was expecting was replaced by numbing pulsations. Her mind was slow. Her eyes slower. Picking up the leather blanket, her depth, captivated by the fire, but across the way, slumped against his own tree, the foreigner dozed. Cradling his sword in sheath. She looked around, finding the place familiar. A broken pole, flayed with cut leather told her. Further on scraps littered the ground, she could see at the edge of darkness, a broken cot. Her place of refuge lost. The wilds more open than ever, susceptible to another prowling shadow to come. Or worse, a blundering idiot. Her brow creased. Some of the pain came with shallow breaths. "I wouldn''t do that," the man''s voice came lighter, higher even. Fumbling his head as he came to meet her gaze with distant eyes. "Stress will only make it worse." She wanted to yell. She wanted to curse him till his ears bleed and hearing lost. Her anger, her rage-- a vein nearly popped on her head, until a groan of pain escaped. Ceasing her like crinkled paper. "You can speak your worries tomorrow," The man yawned. "For now rest, dawn is a only a short while away." His voice petered out, his head slumped. Delphine looked to him, then to the fire. Pushing the will to rise to the back of her mind. Tomorrow. It would be a day of retribution. Her eyes closed, with a faint smile. Awaiting the morning. # # # The morning light broke through the trees. Delphine''s eyes fluttered, whining as she brought herself up. A near outright berating escaped her lips. She hadn''t seen the sight of the man... her head looked around, finding only the ashes of the campfire. Not a sight or sound. He was gone. She could hardly believe it. Her sense leaked out, trying to find any signs of disturbance. Nothing. "Bastard," she whispered. A cold rage seeped within. She stood, looking around to the scraps of her tent. Taking the hilt of her sword. Her face set in stone, a withdrawn mind set forth to trace her steps to the near forgotten road. It was short days, and long nights in passing. She wouldn''t risk a moment after the sun set, nestled in the densest tree by the road. She dared not test her luck. Leaves almost seemed to whistle in the wind; an unassuming noise in the day, became booming at night. Her ears keened on the slightest crunch, as she kept her mana in check. After the first night she counted her blessings. The second night she thought of tomorrow, finding her approximate course taking her to the walls by mid day. But by the morning of the fifth day, when danger seemed to near its end. The World called, and informed her of the cause.
Optional Objective Failed : Travel to the City of Ostray Punishment:
  • N/A
Update:
  • Optional Objective Removed -- Awaiting Completion of Current Objective
She stopped. Looking upon the dull light of blue. Her anger. Frustration. The days have taken their toll, failing to receive a reward, but whatever lay in the City of Ostray would surely help her passage to her current objective. Like they all did... She ran with a burning desire. Today would be worth the effort. And tomorrow she''ll try better... # # # Cameras shut. Doors entered into override. Pass codes were updated. Link was lucky enough to get an update, before Adam went into seclusion. They, hadn''t even had enough time to talk about it. The mere hours dad was here, and the next, not. A week had passed without a word. Dad didn''t even return to the High Peak Office; its glass gleaming with the stars, and the sparks of the city bellow. Where the main data streams of mana, light, and electricity would come together. Facilitated within one room, one area-- perhaps one of thee most sensitive of access points on the entire mountain. But, now, as he slumped in the main chair, the room free of dust, it seemed rather lonely. His mind hummed with low surges of muddled electricity. Not enough to get him off balance. His wrist watch had yet to give a warning, the electromagnetic pulses did not come less than the threshold. But the threat was enough to press his fear-- What would dad say? Frying another circuit board and conduits-- they were getting rather low in their reserves, and he had yet to gather the courage to ask him to make some more... still far from asking him how to show how it''s made. Link didn''t want to waste his father''s time. But every time it had been brought up, there was something, something he couldn''t quite put his finger on. The pause in his movements, the slow turning of another topic, it was, unsettling. He felt ashamed, he would rather break through the numerous firewalls and pass codes, to reach the information. The only reason why he hadn''t was the blasted knowledge was safeguarded with the same security of the Orbital Cannon and the Mon-Pod. Why? He frowned, but kept his facial screen blank. Why couldn''t dad just give me a chance..? The more he shared, the less his burden would be. Not just for him, but Halo. The world thought of their home was the workings of magic; practitioners of the mystic arts, and the sovereigns of formations of unnecessary complexity... keeping their knowledge of universal truths a mystery, as there was no foundation to draw upon a comparison. Many sought this illusion, coming into their public libraries to seek for their next step to ascension. They hid themselves well, but their curses and scorn gave them away in passing. If they knew the truth, would they be-befuddled? Link smiled. The thought of their jaws dropping, their time reeling in revelation. That the process which governs the unity of Halo; connecting and untangling the workings of mana, touched nothing of it. What was left were the principles of reality, a world that worked and grew without the aid of Intent. Spurred on by a man who dreamed of the stars. Speaking to himself when he thought no one was around. He never understood-- out there, beyond this world-- sure, he was a bit less traveled for his years. But there was just something that didn''t sit right, something out there, beyond, that made him think... If dad really did reach the stars, would he return? Was he trying to run away, like so many others? Forced to keep coming back to patch up the ruin. Again, and again, to protect this place. Like he did, or tried, rather. He didn''t know if dad felt it, the burden. Unlike him. Barely keeping a hold of their home and peace after the Red War. If the ''Final Will'' Protocol wasn''t active... the greed at the Gates wouldn''t have faltered. By the Covenant or otherwise. He sighed. Alone he stared out onto the city. A premonition; his sensors alerted a minor disturbance. The mountain shook. A pulse of mana ran from deep beneath the mountain. The alarms didn''t trigger. They have been deactivated! Dad! He rushed to the flight of stairs. Jumping over the railing, and falling down the central shaft. Cloud Step Link slowed. His feet landed without kicking up the air. The polished stone left pristine. Mana flooded with steps, as he passed through the open passage. Dark wood lined the walls, soft lights ingrained within false lamps along the passage. Paintings hung, trinkets; artistic pieces of stone and metal, stood on their own. Before breaching a hall with three paths, he shot straight. The passage shook, less, but the vibrations became clear. He knew for certain as he stopped by an old door. Undamaged, but... he opened to see. The study lay in waste. Bookshelves were toppled over the piles of marred paper. Scribbles of formulas and thought scored the white face. A pen was embedded into the wall by the door, while the display table was clear. The small model of the "Black Bird"; a covert plane that touched the end of the sky, lay shattered with it''s glass casing. But what daunted Link was the painting, it''s frame in ruins, corner''s torn, the shattering of fine paints sprouting fissures. The eternal night of the universe of stars, a ship of silver. It long bow widened to to the stern. It''s mouth opened to a colossal cannon. Engines brimming with life. Turrets opened from their holds, to alight. All the while the bridge, gleamed with the faint star light. It''s glass open to all sides, gazing beyond. A treasured piece lay broken, with not a hope to care. Dad... Within the center of the chaos, the desk lay in ruins; millenniums old Great Vermilion Oaks. A gift by their fabled friend, Aisling lay splintered beyond recognition. Two centuries it stood. Try as he might, there was no hope of recovery. Nor another order, last he''d known Aisling was at war with the Union Lords of Stendalr; attempting to expand their cities to the Crimson Forest. Adam''s head peered down, lost, absent, the sight of a desperate man in need of an answer. Link''s processors surged, demanding more coolant, his heart pumping with recourse. Deriving calculative memories.All the way to the beacon, and a man toppled through the folds of reality. "Dad?" Link asked, but there was nothing. He waded through the mess. Careful not to stir anything. He stood by, shoulder to shoulder. His arm hesitated, but reached out, resting on his father''s. There were no spasms, nor damaged artificial pathways. It was not devolving, thankfully, but it did little to lessen the worry. With the smallest of steps they came forward. Slowly the strain lessened. Hope that this would be nothing more than a lapse. Dad rarely uses his room, but if any place could calm him down, it would be the painting of his parents. Just as they passed the threshold, their shoulders broke-- Link''s heart jumped, watching as his father trudged deeper into the halls. He couldn''t leave, not this time-- he would never again. No mana carried their walk. Not an ounce of strength beyond a common man. They were getting close to the data center, was that it, surely? So when dad paused, he overstepped. Link watched as Adam pulled out his phone, tapping some commands, the wall revealing a biometric reader. His facial screen suppressed a surprise. The wall hissed open, a stream of lights illuminated the edges of the descending path. How... How didn''t he know of such a passage? He followed the descending spiral, his readings told that there was no hollowed earth from where he walked. For leagues, they traveled. Link noting the rising temperature of the surrounding earth, but the passage remained untouched. A common man would have found it unbearable otherwise. But he couldn''t shake it. Why...? Why had he not told him of this? The silence was damning-- he held his voice. What came, a vault door. Titanic in its form, tall as a barn, with mechanisms set to turn without the aid of motors. A bang appeared on his face. An array sealed the door, he could not sense it; absent of runes, countless shapes and discorded lines took to form an erratic shape, linking at junction points with the physical mechanisms of the door. He felt their weight; the Laws of Reality anchoring the mana in the world. Binding mana to its irrefutable nature. Dad''s hand raised, reaching out with his own mana. Splitting, transforming its form, before becoming strings of the metaphysical Laws. They turned, piercing the nodes, fitting a puzzle, his processors whirled, mere steps behind. Click. A great bellow erupted, the array ceased its false light, causing the gear cascade. Revealing the unknown chamber. A raised platform reached out to the center. The edges overseeing the floor below; generators and giant crystals attuned to the Mountain''s nodes cemented their ground. Above, great wires and pipes descended to the middle of the room. Where dad stood, activating the energy shield of hard light around the pedestal; a transparent veil of white. His hand rested on a lever. Hesitating, turning back to Link. His eyes filled with longing, but more so... sorrow. "It was not my first thought on this journey," dad spoke. The word came on slow and heavy. "The Heavens-- The Greater Realm-- Paradise-- The Endless Plains-- Desorir... I did not know them in my younger years... I only looked up, and saw the skies; and the stars above. "It had been my fondest wish for some time. Then, I got roped into the Immortal tales, different lands, same stories; all seeking eternal life beyond this world. "I admit, it was dumb of me to toil with two dreams. But, when we discovered The Veil, and then, at my Seventh Enlightenment... I knew, there was no Ascension." Dad pulled the lever, the great machine hummed to life. His instincts spiked. The essence of the mountain pressed down upon him. He reinforced his standing. As small light swirled within the middle of the room, condensing Laws, Mana, and lingering Intent to a pure, raw form. A colored diamond grew. "I had dreamed of this moment for a long time." Adam walked, lingering with longing. "It''s just not what I hoped, but now there''s little to keep secret," He continued to walk past Link. "I''m sorry, your gift will take a bit more time." "Dad--" A gust of wind blew, leaving him. His processor spiked. After all this... are you still unwell? Dad... why won''t you listen-- Why won''t you let me help?! What echoed was a memory, a memory of his father. Through the smiles and works; he was obsessive, but he still cared. What returned was a scar; a man who forgot. Useless... The feeling grew within his heart. His coolant grew colder. How could he bring dad back? The answer remained out of reach. It felt like the Red War again. But here was a problem he couldn''t simply cut. He stared at the shining essence, taking a seat before all he knew. Feeling the residual energy flow through him, for he needed this time. Those damned rats could wait a day. His answer lied with him, and tomorrow, he would at least know, what it cannot be. "One step at a time..." so his dad spoke, a long time ago.