《Path of the Godscourge [Cultivation Progression Epic]》 [Announcement] Stub Notice

Stub Notice

Hey everyone! Kwerte/Felix here! You might notice I¡¯ve gotten a new cover. This is in preparation for the Amazon release of Volume One of this book. Since I will be enrolling the book in Kindle Unlimited, I will be entering an exclusivity agreement with Amazon, and that means that only a few chapters can be available on other sites. This isn¡¯t my preferred method of doing things (I¡¯d prefer if there was a way to read the book for free), but I recognize the dominance of Amazon and Kindle Unlimited as a publishing service, and I also want more people to experience this story and world. So¡­that means that most of Volume One will be removed from the site on August 1st, 2024. If you want to catch up on the end of the first volume, I highly recommend that you do so. As it is going on Amazon, it has been completely re-edited front-to-back. I¡¯ve implemented some feedback from my readers here (thank you all so much) and given it some nice clean formatting. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Now, for the fun stuff: I¡¯m providing free Advance Review Copies (ARCs) to all my readers here if you would like. I¡¯ve got a Google Form linked below which will allow you to collect a copy of the book for free. The purpose of an ARC is to collect a few reviews before the book goes live on Amazon, giving a cushion plus showing some readership already. I can¡¯t force anyone to review of course, but if you pick up an ARC copy, I¡¯d really appreciate it if you¡¯d be willing to leave a review on Amazon and help the story. https://forms.gle/zfAcFC6EJrtThEWW7 As always, thank you all for reading and helping make this story possible! And before you go¡­just gonna drop one last tidbit. I do have another story here on Royal Road, which will still be available to read for another few months, and you can find it here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/81192/embercore-psychic-cultivation-underdog-progression Prologue The Goddess of Starlight was not ready. She had been waiting for this day as long as she could remember, but now that it was finally here, she didn¡¯t know what to do. Every year, she travelled to the Heavenly Clearing, wondering if her time had come. For the past eighty years, the time was never right, but today, she knew something was different. The trees chattered. The ground didn¡¯t feel as firm. In the distance, the wind whispered. It spoke the oath she had taken eight decades ago when she had ascended to immortality. With your Godhood you made a pledge: You will watch from the heavens until it is your time. Never too early. Never too late. The Goddess of Starlight stepped forward. Blades of grass parted before her, and the nighttime darkness retreated wherever she walked. It was fifteen paces to the pedestal. Each step seemed like it took centuries. She glanced around, scrutinizing the tightly-packed trees at the edge of the clearing to make sure no one was watching. None of the shadows moved. She was alone. ¡°It is my time,¡± she whispered, if only to reassure herself. Her hands trembled. She leaned closer to the pedestal. Resting atop it was a cauldron filled with swirling, misty Arcara¡ªthe purified essence of ancient mana that had once shaped the universe. Now, only whispers of it remained in the galaxy. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. In the Lower Domain, duty will guide you. Ascend and claim your true power. The Goddess of Starlight reached out. She touched the silvery-blue mist in the bowl. It raced away from her hand and scattered against the opposite side of the bowl. Even now, it didn¡¯t obey her as naturally as it did the rest of the Emissaries. They were Emissaries, Gods to the people of the galaxy, and the Goddess of Starlight was the weakest of the pantheon. That¡¯s what the others always said, at least. This was to be expected. It didn¡¯t stop a pit from forming in her stomach. She was about to disobey the pantheon. More whispers slithered through the distant trees, a sigh on the faint wind. The trembling in her hands became shivers. Your vessel will be weak. You will raise her through the stages of magic. You will forge her into the strongest sword. The mist in the bowl shimmered. In the reflection, the Goddess of Starlight saw a face. It wasn¡¯t her own. Staring up at her was a young woman, head trimmed in orange hair. Bright blue eyes pierced through the mist and penetrated the Goddess¡¯ soul. This was the vessel. Your commitment is balance. Your reward¡­the power of the Mediator. The Goddess of Starlight stepped forward until the Arcara couldn¡¯t slip away any further, then sunk her hand into the vapour. Energy stirred in her body. Something slipped out of her core and joined the swirling cloud. She tightened her fingers and forced a confident smile onto her face. This was what she had wanted. An Emissary disobeying the heavens? It was a betrayal of her family. It was unheard of. But her quest was more important. And if she failed¡ª She refused to think about that. She couldn¡¯t fail. Everything darkened, and the Goddess of Starlight¡¯s body evaporated. Her errand began. Chapter 1: The Heist Vayra¡¯s hands had been tingling all afternoon, and she couldn¡¯t blame it entirely on the cold breeze. If all went to plan, this would be their biggest score yet. If all went to plan. She grimaced. Already, they were off-schedule. She tapped her boot on the cobblestone street and leaned against the wall of knotted wood behind her. If she pressed her back up against the very edge of the alley could she see past the eaves high above. The sky was getting dark, and they were running out of time. ¡°The longer we wait, the riskier this gets!¡± a voice shouted from deeper down the shadowy corridor. Vayra glanced at her brother. The wind muffled his voice, as did the hood of his tattered coat. She replied, ¡°If we don¡¯t wait, we don¡¯t get paid.¡± The wind roared louder. It ripped shriveled autumn fruit from vines and thrashed their husks against the stone below, then buried them with amber leaves. Vayra pulled her hood over her head to shield herself from them. When her brother spoke again, she barely heard his voice. ¡°Why do we need a Helper for this one?¡± he asked. ¡°I mean¡­we¡¯ve run jobs like this¡ª¡± ¡°Bremi!¡± she scolded, marching back toward him. ¡°This tip came from Gr¨¦no himself. If we run the job without one of his Helpers, we¡¯ll¡ª¡± She cut herself off. There was no reason to give her little brother nightmares. ¡°We won¡¯t like what happens.¡± ¡°But we can handle this!¡± ¡°And the Helper will make sure we handle it in a way that won¡¯t get us killed.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°I just wanna get out of this alive and fill my stomach with something. Do you?¡± Bremi muttered, ¡°I¡­do.¡± He pulled his hood up to match her. The coats kept them warm, but it also hid their unusual appearance. Like Vayra, he had bright blue eyes, and orange hair so vibrant they told everyone it was dyed¡ªit wasn¡¯t. ¡°Sorry, sis¡­¡± Any other day, Vayra wouldn¡¯t have been so strict. But he was her little brother, and it was her duty to look after him. ¡°Then we¡ª¡± Before she could finish, a humanoid silhouette slid into the alley¡¯s opening. It wore a dark greatcoat, and moved elegantly and silently. She swallowed empty air, then approached. The silhouette pushed aside one half of its coat. In what little light remained of the day, the silver hammer of a flintlock pistol gleamed. This was the Helper¡ªone of Gr¨¦no¡¯s enforcers. Vayra forced her gaze upwards, and kept her eyes pinned to where the Helper¡¯s forehead should have been. She couldn¡¯t see its face, only a pearlescent white mask. When the Helper nodded, she spared a glance back at Bremi and said, ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± She opened her mouth again to ask if the Helper could climb, but she stopped. Gr??¨¦no¡¯s Helpers could always climb. Without another word, Vayra leapt to a whorl on the wall beside her, and from it, she sprung to a branch above. Higher and higher, she climbed, clinging to the vines and fruit. It wasn¡¯t an orchard. Nearly every building in the city of Tavelle was alive. The city had begun its life as a shipping hub, but it had grown. The settlement turned to a village, which turned to a city. Houses had been grown atop one another until they were stacked so high that sunlight barely reached the ground of the old, stone streets. Vayra climbed until her face basked in the glow of the setting sun. One at a time, she pulled her legs up onto the gutter of woven leaves, then jumped up onto the sloped roof. Her rapid breaths condensed into steam, and the wind drew it into thin lines. She watched them float into the distance and dissipate, but her gaze remained. She stared over Tavelle¡¯s thousands of rooftops, towards the distant ocean. But there was no horizon. Miles offshore, the Eternal Stream touched the planet¡¯s surface. The Stream was an enormous river as wide as a sea, which sloped away from the surface of Decathe and rose far into the heavens. It snaked through the stars, connecting all of the planets of the galaxy with its spirit-energy-infused water. Ships raced along it, and she traced them with her eyes. From here, they were tiny dark specks with billowing, white sails. She only paid attention to the ships that sailed away from the planet¡¯s surface. But today, in the twilight, she couldn¡¯t trace them through the sky for long. The Stream wove between the clouds, and when it passed the boundary of Decathe¡¯s skies, it faded. One day, she told herself. One day, I¡¯ll get off of Decathe. One day, I¡¯ll see every world in the galaxy. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes. But she couldn¡¯t see the galaxy if she starved or got herself killed. A deep, masculine voice slithered out from the Helper¡¯s mouth. ¡°Will the kid be a liability?¡± ¡°He can keep up,¡± Vayra insisted. The Helper only scoffed. Vayra crept towards the roof¡¯s edge again, and peered down. Bremi tugged himself up, slower than Vayra and the Helper, but not slowly. He wrapped his legs over the gutter and pulled himself up. The Helper still stared at Vayra. ¡°Follow,¡± he said. ¡°You better keep to my pace.¡± They took off along the rooftops. Vayra kept her eyes down. One wrong step and she would slip; the tiny shingles were slippery. Each was a light-brown pinecone scale, shimmering and shiny in the fading light. They leapt over a chimney of woven roots, and Vayra choked on the black soot. Tavelle¡¯s residents hadn¡¯t built their organic city because they loved the natural world. Plant-based houses were easy to transport and nurture, and with proper fertilization, a settlement could be grown in years. But after two centuries, Tavelle hadn¡¯t given up the habit. Vayra wiped the soot out of her eyes and sprinted after the Helper. The three jumped over a thin alley, then tightroped over a street on a narrow band of wood. Carriages and wagons rushed past beneath, dragged by whinnying horses, and Vayra did her best not to look down. She wasn¡¯t afraid of heights nor was she a stranger to vertigo, but crossing a bustling road always made her stomach lurch. As the sun slipped behind the Eternal Stream, candles and lanterns flickered to life all across the city. It didn¡¯t help to illuminate the rooftops. Vayra strained her eyes, making sure she didn¡¯t misstep, but they couldn¡¯t slow down. The three arrived at a long row of four-story tall apartments. They stopped at the apartment third from the street corner, just beside an alley, and knelt on the edge of the roof. ¡°How¡¯s that, sis?¡± Bremi hissed. ¡°I¡¯m nearly as fast as you!¡± ¡°Only ¡®cause you keep growing,¡± she whispered back. He was nearly fourteen years old, and although she had five years on him, he was nearly as tall as she was. She teased, ¡°Lanky-legs.¡± The Helper shook his head. He leaned over the edge of the roof, and Vayra did the same. No light shone from the building beneath¡ªperfect. Taking the gold would be easy. Vayra imagined the coins shimmering in the palm of her hand. Maybe there would be enough to buy her and Bremi¡¯s way offworld. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta be running out of time before he gets home,¡± Bremi stated. ¡°It¡¯s now or never.¡± Vayra looked to the Helper, and the man nodded. She gripped the edge of the gutter, then swung her legs down to the windowsill below. Maybe there was a safer way, but not one so fun. A quick exhale was all she allowed herself before driving a boot into the frame¡ªit shattered the fragile wood. The window fell inwards on its hinges, and, after another kick, the casement snapped off. The sheet of glass hit the floor below and shattered. Shards scattered across the floorboards, clinking and rattling. Vayra winced, then pulled herself into the room. Her gaze flitted around. It was a small apartment, well-kept but not lavish. There were no paintings hanging from its taupe wallpaper, only shelves filled with stacks upon stacks of paper. A barrister, politician, or otherwise, it didn¡¯t matter¡ªthe tip said there would be gold. Two thumps followed. The Helper marched across the room, and Bremi walked behind him. Vayra nodded to her brother, then whispered, ¡°Get looking.¡± ¡°Watch yourself,¡± the Helper warned. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡± He grunted, which sounded more like a snort through his mask. Vayra said nothing more; she began searching the apartment¡¯s living room. The drawers of the corner desk yielded nothing, and neither did the cabinets beside the hallway door. She threw herself to the ground to peer under a chair, just in time for the Helper to throw it aside. It crashed against the floor. Her eyes widened. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be¡ª¡± ¡°Another word from you, and your cut drops.¡± Vayra stood up to face him. ¡°If we mess this up, Gr¨¦no¡¯s gonna have our heads.¡± ¡°Only yours and the boy¡¯s.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll make sure he knows you had a hand in it.¡± It was a bad strategy. The Helper could say anything, and who would believe her word over his? She and Bremi were Discarded, street urchins without a family or a kinship to protect them. The Helper placed a hand on his hip, elbow notching aside his coat. ¡°You¡¯re down to twenty percent.¡± ¡°Apologies. I just¡ª¡± ¡°Fifteen.¡± Vayra knew better than to open her mouth again. She set back to searching. Behind the shelves. Beneath a rug, if their prize could even be hidden beneath it. But there wasn¡¯t even a dull shine, let alone a glimmer of gold. She let the rug slip from her fingers. A crash ripped through the room. Papers fell from a shelf, and Vayra pounced on the pile to stop them from rustling. She looked up at Bremi, who stood frozen mid-step. ¡°You found anything?¡± she whispered. ¡°Nothing,¡± Bremi replied. ¡°Sis, we should¡ª¡± ¡°We ain¡¯t done here.¡± The Helper ran his hand over the varnished mantle of the fireplace, then picked up a leather mask resting atop it. It would only cover the bottom half of a face, and the cylindrical cartridges protruding from each side looked heavy. After a thorough examination, he cast it aside. ¡°He was an officer on a Streamrunner. A purser. Rumour has it that one of the local navy captains has been throwin¡¯ around his weight and pickin¡¯ on the cargo transports, and this here purser was a part of that crew. But they weren¡¯t tellin¡¯ anyone about their latest haul. It¡¯s gotta be somethin¡¯ good.¡± ¡°I thought Gr¨¦no knew for certain.¡± Vayra poked her head into the fireplace, then dipped her hands into the ashes. There was nothing below. She lifted a handkerchief off the back of another chair, then threw open the doors of a glass cabinet. There was nothing metallic, except for the rusty tip of a quill, which she didn¡¯t dare touch. She muttered, ¡°And now we¡¯ll take the fall for it. As usual.¡± ¡°As deserved, for a Discarded,¡± the Helper snarled. ¡°Hurry up and find it.¡± It wasn¡¯t fair, but it was reality¡ªshe¡¯d accepted that long ago. This was their ticket out. She lifted a stack of papers, then laid them down on a chair. She stuck her head into the gap it opened in the shelf, and stared behind the other stacks. Still nothing. ¡°Look what I found, sis!¡± Bremi called. Vayra looked up quickly, and the back of her head struck the shelf above. Bremi held a cube, which barely fit into the palms of his hand. It was white stone, and though it was bland, it was carved perfectly¡ªthe corners were sharp, and the edges were clean. On each face, a smaller, black square sat perfectly flush with the stone around it. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°No idea¡­¡± Bremi whispered. ¡°But¡­it¡¯s not gold. I¡¯ll put it¡ª¡± ¡°Seems our navy captain¡ªpirate, whatever-he-may-be¡ªraided the wrong folk,¡± the Helper said. ¡°We don¡¯t want to mess with that. Find the gold and get out of here.¡± ¡°Wait¡­¡± Vayra breathed, stepping closer to Bremi, and to the small cube. She felt something swirling in her veins and churning in her muscles. The cube tugged her eyes towards it. Her blood rushed to her fingertips and refused to leave, as if drawn by the same force that called her eyes. She felt a pressure on the back of her neck, and three thoughts charged into her mind: Mediator. Duty. Power. She knew they weren¡¯t her own. Her veins stirred. Something swirled in her blood, pulsing through her limbs and core, and she didn¡¯t recognize it. But she had heard stories of the great God-heirs who could harvest mana from the Stream, cycle it through their bodies, and achieve great, superhuman feats. They could ascend to the heavens and become immortals themselves. For a moment, she entertained the notion. To have¡­any more strength than she did now? But, like most people, she didn¡¯t have enough Spirit Potential to use magic. It was just a dream, and nothing could change¡ª ¡°Sis?¡± Bremi asked, shattering her trance. ¡°You okay?¡± She blinked rapidly, then pulled her hand away from the cube. ¡°Put it in your pocket and keep looking. There¡¯s gotta be a¡ª¡± A keyring rattled against the other side of the hallway-facing door, and Vayra¡¯s head whipped around to face the noise. Her muscles seized, and she didn¡¯t dare to move her fingers. The key rattled again. She and Bremi had never been caught before, not in all of their minor break-ins and heists. They couldn¡¯t be caught now! The thought shattered her paralysis, and she yelped, ¡°Bremi! Forget the gold!¡± ¡°No one leaves!¡± the Helper bellowed. His greatcoat fluttered as he turned, and he flicked his flintlock pistol into his hand. He pointed it at Vayra. She stared down the barrel, but she didn¡¯t raise her hands. The Helper knew she was unarmed. He pointed the pistol at Bremi, and the boy halted as well. ¡°Wait!¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°Do you want¡ª¡± The door swung open, and a humanoid figure stepped through. The Helper pointed his pistol towards it. An acute bang echoed through the room, followed by a puff of fire and smoke, and the body collapsed. Vayra averted her gaze, mind rushing with barely-formed plans and interfering thoughts. If they kept looking, they might find something to make the journey worthwhile, but someone had to have heard the gunshot. The reward wouldn¡¯t mean anything if they were all caught. Vayra stepped towards the window. The Helper blocked her path. ¡°You ain¡¯t leavin¡¯ ¡®til we get that gold,¡± he stated. But he had used his shot. Vayra glanced at Bremi. She could deal with Gr¨¦no; she could beg the wannabe crime lord for more time and another chance to settle their debt. But she couldn¡¯t reason with the authorities. She and Bremi had to leave before they were caught. Bremi dipped his head¡ªhe understood too. Vayra dashed around the Helper¡¯s right side, and Bremi on the left. The Helper reached towards her, but he only snagged her coat. She let it slide off her arms, then ducked under the Helper¡¯s wild punch. ¡°Bremi, go!¡± Her brother clambered onto the windowsill and wrapped his arms around a downspout. It was encased in rough bark and would be painful to slide down, but it¡¯d get them to the street quickly. As her brother slid down, Vayra jumped away from another of the Helper¡¯s punches. She stumbled and scrambled back towards the window. The Helper turned his pistol over in his hand. He swung it like a club, and Vayra barely rolled away in time to dodge it. She leapt up onto the windowsill to avoid another swipe, then jumped out the window. She fell a foot before clutching the downspout with her bare hands. Her palms burned, and she was certain the bark left a few splinters. As she neared the bottom, she hugged the spout tight, and she came to a complete halt. The spout deposited them in another alleyway, which intersected with a larger, main street. ¡°You alright?¡± Bremi asked. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She brushed her hands against her pants, hoping it would soothe the raw pain. It only made them burn hotter. Then, she glanced up towards the Helper. She couldn¡¯t see him. She imagined him biting open a paper cartridge and pouring gunpowder into the pistol. ¡°He¡¯s reloading. We gotta go.¡± ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± ¡°Not really. But it¡¯s too late now!¡± Vayra leaned out of the alley and into the street. Pedestrians bolted past, and coachmen whipped their horses faster and harder. They didn¡¯t seem to know which direction to run, but they seemed to run in fear¡ªthey must have heard the shot. One of the pedestrians collided with Vayra and knocked her to the ground. Scrambling back to her feet, she pulled Bremi closer to the nearest wall. They didn¡¯t have much time before the Helper had another shot ready. ¡°It¡¯ll be just like that time we stole that gold monocle. We¡¯ll just have to make a run for it. Ready?¡± ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Bremi whispered. Vayra met her brother¡¯s gaze. ¡°Then let¡¯s go.¡± She sprinted out of the alley. Chapter 2: Seekerstone Vayra and Bremi ran out into the street. They slipped between the rear of a carriage and a charging horse, then skidded to a halt. A wagon thundered past in front of them. Vayra spared a glance back over her shoulder. The Helper pointed his pistol, and a puff of smoke leapt from its barrel. The shot whistled past. She didn¡¯t see where it landed, and she didn¡¯t care to find out. They had to lose the Helper. As soon as she spotted a gap ahead in traffic, she dashed forwards. She and Bremi dipped between a pair of wagons, then spun around a bewildered peddler in a tricorn hat. The sidewalk was just ahead. But before she reached it, her foot latched on a loose brick, and she tumbled to the ground. An elven man on horseback approached. Vayra scrambled out of its way just in time, dragging herself through a stagnant puddle and up onto the smaller paving stones of the sidewalk. Vayra leapt to her feet and stared back at the window she¡¯d come from. Everything was blurry, but the Helper was nowhere to be seen. Bremi, however, still stood at her side. He smirked. ¡°You got shit in your hair, sis.¡± ¡°Not now.¡± Vayra¡¯s head whipped back and forth, searching for the best escape. Everything seemed to smear together. Bremi continued, ¡°It ain¡¯t a good look¡ª¡± ¡°Hey!¡± came a distant shout, cutting Bremi off. ¡°You two!¡± Vayra¡¯s attention snapped further down the street. Despite her clouded vision, she spotted a pair of scarlet-coated smears. She rubbed her eyes until she could add brown (their peaked caps and muskets) and blue (their pauldrons) to the list. They didn¡¯t point their weapons yet. One of the men ran forwards and demanded, ¡°What are you two up to, eh?¡± Redmarines. In their attempts at policing, they only looked inches before their noses. The real threat was across the street. But they were persistent, well-trained, and more annoying than Gr¨¦no and his Helpers. The marine brought his musket to full-cock, but the second raised an arm and said, ¡°They¡¯re just kids. Discardeds, by the looks of it.¡± ¡°Run!¡± Vayra shouted. She and Bremi sprinted down the sidewalk, towards the taller buildings of the inner city, and back towards Tavelle¡¯s Gorge. Lanterns whirled past her face like sparks. She wove between pedestrians and through processions of farmhands entering the city for the evening. The Redmarines chased just feet out of reach, twisting and turning to pass civilians. Vayra pushed an emaciated man aside, then gripped onto the corner of a building to swing herself into another alley. She didn¡¯t slow down in time, and her shoulder rammed into the wooden wall on the opposite side. Her worn-down boots struggled to find traction again on the paving stones, but once they did, she took off into the street on the other side of the alley. Bremi emerged just behind her, trailed by the two Redmarines. ¡°Vayra!¡± Bremi yelled. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± She ducked under an immobile cart, then pulled a wedge out from its side panel. Hay bales tumbled out, blocking the marines¡¯ way. ¡°We just need to get to Meynan¡¯s Street, then back to the Gorge! Old Uckoe will¡ª¡± Something collided with her side, and the breath fled from her lungs. She tumbled onto the paving stones. She tried to sit up, but something pinned her to the ground. A dark shadow struck her in the nose, then an elbow pressed against her throat. She caught a glimpse of a pearlescent white mask, but her vision began to darken. Everything grew dimmer, and no matter how hard she thrashed, the Helper was too strong. Suddenly, the pressure lifted off her neck, and blood flowed back into her head. She rolled onto her side, gasping for breath. Bremi pulled on the Helper¡¯s coat. The man ripped his arms out of his sleeves, and Bremi stumbled back with an empty coat. The Helper swung his pistol, and Vayra heard a hollow crack. Bremi fell limp into the street. A trickle of clear blood rolled down his forehead. Vayra snapped a hand towards her brother¡¯s ankle, and she tugged on it as hard as she could. A carriage approached, and the driver wasn¡¯t slowing down. The Helper kicked her. Her ribcage blazed, but she kept pulling on Bremi¡¯s ankle. She heard the carriage¡¯s approaching rumble through the rush in her ears. Another kick struck her in the ribs, harder and sharper, but still she didn¡¯t release Bremi¡¯s cuff. She tugged again. Bremi¡¯s body shifted towards the sidewalk, just barely enough to keep him out of harm¡¯s way. The Helper¡¯s third kick forced the last dregs of air from her lungs. She couldn¡¯t even gasp. ¡°Stop!¡± one of the marines shouted. He pointed his musket at the Helper. ¡°All of you! Cease this at once!¡± The other marine approached just behind, hay woven into the lapels of his coat. ¡°Drop the¡ª¡± Another puff of smoke spat from the Helper¡¯s pistol. The blast stung Vayra¡¯s eardrums, and it felt like wind chimes rang in her head. One of the marines collapsed. The other fired his musket, but the Helper had already leapt aside. Vayra scrambled behind a crate and pulled Bremi along with her. His chest rose hesitantly, then deflated moments later. She shook his shoulders. ¡°Bremi, wake up! We need to run!¡± Her brother stirred and mumbled, but she couldn¡¯t make out any coherent words. ¡°Wake up!¡± She heard a thud, then a clang. The surviving marine blocked the Helper¡¯s rusty, handmade knife with the barrel of his musket. They scrapped, and now was the perfect time to run. But Bremi was too heavy to carry. She yelled, ¡°Stand up, Bremi!¡± Bremi lowered an arm and placed his hand against the paving stones. The stone cube tumbled out of his pocket and towards the gutter, but Vayra stuck her foot in front of it to stop it from bouncing into the puddles. It hit her boot. She felt an urge, tugging at her blood and guiding her hand. It wanted her to touch it. The ringing in her ears disappeared. In its place, she heard a woman¡¯s voice whisper, ¡®Pick me up.¡¯ The voice had spoken inside Vayra¡¯s head. Even though it was just a whisper, the words raced around her skull and vibrated through her bones. She pressed a hand against her forehead, but the voice returned. ¡®Accept my help.¡¯ There was a soft thud beside Vayra. The Helper skidded along the ground and came to a rest beside her. Instead of the voice, she heard the crowd¡¯s screams crescendo. She looked up. The marine marched forwards, fastening his bayonet to his musket as he walked. If anyone was caught participating in organized crime, the punishment was death. Most marines didn¡¯t bother letting the accused reach their trial. ¡°Bremi! You have to get up!¡± Vayra looked up at the Helper. Half of his mask was shattered and his nose bled red, human blood. He met her gaze, then scrambled towards her and Bremi. She tried to kick the Helper away, but he caught her foot and flipped her. The Helper wrapped an arm around Bremi¡¯s neck and pressed his knife to the boy¡¯s throat. ¡°Stay back!¡± First, he held Bremi between him and the marine, then he turned to the marine. ¡°Both of you!¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Vayra yelled. ¡°You¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°I know what iron and rust does to your kind!¡± The Helper looked at the marine. ¡°Drop the musket, or I¡¯ll kill the boy!¡± ¡°Drop it!¡± Vayra pleaded. She raised her arms and showed the Helper her open palms. Once more, the stone cube drew her eyes. It tried to assert its will on her, and she tried to resist it. But her fingers felt loose. Slowly, her pinky stretched towards the cube. ¡®I know what you are too, Vayra,¡¯ said the voice again. ¡®I know you are a phoenix. I know you nurtured your brother¡¯s egg for five years before he hatched. I know you would do anything for him.¡¯ The marine didn¡¯t lower his musket, nor did he turn the bayonet away from the Helper. He ordered, ¡°Let the boy go!¡± ¡°If you don¡¯t kill me here, it¡¯ll be the gallows!¡± said the Helper. He pressed the knife closer to Bremi¡¯s neck. Bremi blinked, and muttered again. His head lolled forwards, then it sprung upright, eyes wide. He must have realized what was happening. ¡°Please, sir!¡± Vayra added, urging the marine to lower his musket. The marine didn¡¯t yield. He raised his shoulders and pointed the bayonet. ¡®If you want to save him, listen to me!¡¯ the cube¡¯s voice begged. ¡®Touch the Seekerstone.¡¯ Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. And then what? Sudden movement would make everything worse. ¡®Your raw, unpurified mana will fuel it. It will cause a distraction, Vayra!¡¯ Great. It could read her thoughts, too. ¡®I can. And I know what you need to do right now! Take it!¡¯ Vayra leapt for the cube¡ªthe Seekerstone. She fell hard against the sidewalk, and she pressed her hand down on top of the cube. The moment her skin connected with it, something fled out of her hand. She didn¡¯t understand the feeling. Somehow, the cube was pulling on an element of her body, something that ran in channels beside her bloodstream. It passed through her fingers and the palm of her hand, and¡ª And then a bright, colourless light overtook everything. She fell, but not to the ground. The uniform whiteness was a void, and she plummeted. If there was ground below, she couldn¡¯t see it. Vayra thought she screamed, and she knew she heard her own voice, but her mouth wasn¡¯t open. There was no one else around to hear¡ªnot Bremi, the Helper, or the marine. ¡°Be calm.¡± It was the same voice that she had heard in her head, only it seemed younger and less confident¡ªand more real. This time, she wasn¡¯t so certain that she was hearing it in her head. Vayra tried to follow the voice¡¯s instructions. Against her instinct, she held her arms and legs still. The falling sensation stopped. ¡°Turn around,¡± the voice ordered. Vayra couldn¡¯t feel anything firm beneath her feet, but when she tried to spin¡ªas if she was standing on solid ground¡ªshe felt herself turn. The source of the voice emerged in her peripheral vision. A shadow against the void, vaguely human-shaped and only an inch taller than her. Vayra breathed, ¡°What¡­what¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°You are safe,¡± the shadow whispered. ¡°Where am¡ªno, it doesn¡¯t matter. Let me out of here!¡± Colours bled into the shadow. They filled out the shape of a woman. Vayra spotted two eyes so vibrant and brown they seemed to emit light. Lastly, an olive-skinned face and dark brown hair. Vayra leapt away. The woman said, ¡°Here, a fraction of a second becomes minutes. So long as your mana fuels the void, that is. You have¡ª¡± ¡°Let me out!¡± Vayra yelled. She stared into the blank whiteness where Bremi and the Helper had stood moments before. She had to get out and help her brother. ¡°Why am I here?¡± ¡°For now?¡± The woman shrugged. ¡°Just to make a bright flash. A distraction.¡± ¡°With mana? I¡¯ve got no magic!¡± The woman grimaced. ¡°That¡¯s not entirely true. Not anymore.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Vayra cut herself off. It didn¡¯t matter. ¡°I need to get out!¡± ¡°You may leave,¡± said the woman. ¡°How?¡± ¡°Open your eyes.¡± Vayra tilted her head. Her eyes already were open! ¡°No, they¡¯re not,¡± the woman said. ¡°You shut them when you touched the Seekerstone.¡± Vayra remembered touching the stone cube and reflexively snapping her eyes shut at the white light. She had never opened them again; this vision was inside her mind. She concentrated on her muscles, and begged her eyelids to come apart¡ªto be released from the vision. Vayra¡¯s eyelids snapped open, and the white void retreated with them. All that remained was a spectral glow and white sparks¡ªresidue of a great flash outside the void. She leapt towards Bremi and the Helper, and pulled her brother free from the man¡¯s loose, shocked grasp. ¡°Run!¡± ¡°Vayra?¡± Bremi asked. Vayra ducked under one of the Helper¡¯s frazzled swipes and pushed Bremi down as well. Her brother gasped in pain. She tugged him out of the Redmarine¡¯s way. To Bremi, Vayra shouted, ¡°Can you run?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Vayra pulled her blouse¡¯s cuff down around her fingers and picked up the Seekerstone, careful not to let it touch her skin. The Helper grunted. A spike of silver and red pierced through his greatcoat¡ªthe marine had impaled him. Next, the marine would chase after her! Vayra pointed down the street; there was an alley she and Bremi could slip through. They sprinted along the sidewalk, pushing through the onlookers who sheltered at the edge of the street. Bremi was first into the alley. They both stopped halfway and ducked into an alcove. She was certain her brother understood the plan. They¡¯d done it before. A lantern bumped against her shoulder. They couldn¡¯t hide in the bright light. She threw the lantern to the ground and pressed her hand against it to quench the flames. A half-phoenix¡¯s skin was still naturally resistant to heat¡ªand that was the only gift she¡¯d inherited from her parents. Not magic. Once the lantern went out, they both held perfectly still. Vayra pressed her back against the wooden wall. A knot of wood pressed into the small of her back, and it began to sting. Every muscle in her body tightened, and her stomach rose. The marine ran down the alley. His musket was cocked, and Vayra was certain he had loaded another shot. He stopped for a moment, then he ran past, into the crowded street on the other side of the alley. He didn¡¯t look back. Vayra and Bremi stayed silent. Slowly, the crowds on both sides of the alley began to wander cautiously and stare at the aftermath of the skirmish. A dead Redmarine and a Helper? The city would talk about it for weeks. Vayra nudged Bremi out of the alcove. On the first step he took, he threw up. She looked into his eyes and observed them carefully; his pupils didn¡¯t dilate, even in the light. ¡°We¡¯re gonna get back to the Gorge. Old Uckoe¡¯ll know what to do.¡± ¡°Sis, it¡¯s¡­¡± Bremi staggered along the alley and into the street. He turned his shoulder towards her, revealing a gash in his sleeve. Below it, his skin was torn. Clear blood seeped from the wound. Vayra pressed her eyes shut. Then, she offered a smile, and while it felt like a lie, she laid a hand on her brother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± she whispered. It wasn¡¯t fine. ¡°He didn¡¯t get you bad. There¡¯s, uh¡­probably no iron in it.¡± They walked down the street. Vayra looked up to find her bearings. The Eternal Stream rose to the west, and now, the setting sun rippled through it. To the east, mountains climbed up from the coast. If she and Bremi headed due south, they would reach Tavelle¡¯s Gorge¡ªit cut through the center of the city, and was impossible to miss. Vayra made sure to walk slowly and to keep her head down. A procession of Redmarines ran down the center of the street, but she made sure to stay hidden behind a layer of pedestrians. The sunlight dimmed and the sky darkened. Starry pinpricks appeared in the sky, and as they did, the Seekerstone grew heavier in her hand. It threatened to slip out from her sleeve, and she tightened her grip. She couldn¡¯t ignore the sense¡ªthe instinct¡ªthat told her a third person was walking with them. When she looked behind her, she saw no one. ¡°Bremi? Did this cube thing call to you?¡± ¡°Huh? I¡­uh¡­no. I just thought it might be interesting.¡± He rubbed his forehead, then his eyes. A huff escaped Vayra¡¯s lips before she could resist it. Why her? She stared down at the cube. She didn¡¯t dare to touch it again¡ªnot out in the open. But, as it had before, it didn¡¯t need her to touch it to speak with her. The woman¡¯s voice rang out in her head: ¡®The Seekerstone called to you because you are the Mediator. And the galaxy needs your help.¡¯ [Extras] Art and Images Since we hit the first milestone, it''s time to make good on the first milestone reward: an art and images page. So...what will go here? Well, first off, I''ll upload all of my favourite images for the characters. (Yes, I have the most for Vayra¡ªshe''s the main character.) Vayra: Glade: Phason¨¦: Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Character Sheets: Here, I''ll put some character sheets I designed for the characters¡ªjust some images with a little bit of text. It''s not much, and I tried to generate with a simpler art style. Either way, maybe they''ll be nice to look at. That''s all I''ve got for now, but I''ll be working on making more! Now, so I hit 500 words, Im just gonna plunk the blurb and some other reminders down. First off, I''ve got a website. I like writing reviews and blog posts there: https://www.felixtaylorbooks.com/ (and I''ll link it in the final notes with a clickable link) Next, a reminder of story milestones (and the rewards): - 500 followers or 2 reviews: "Art" gallery¡ªI''ll make an extra chapter dedicated to posting any extra images in, hopefully for most of the characters. - 750 followers or 4 reviews: I''ll post "Extras" chapters, for lore tidbits and more character sheets - 1000 followers or 6 reviews: I''ll make a map for the series - 1500 followers: I''ll commission extra character art to go in the interior of the book when it goes to KU (a while off, still)¡ªbut it will be shown for everyone to see, of course.
The God of the Sea has overstepped, and only the Mediator can stop him. But no one has ever killed a God before. As a street urchin, Vayra had nothing but dreams¡ªuntil she was chosen to fight in a war of Gods. She¡¯s the Mediator, a mortal avatar whose spirit can host a God, allowing her to practice a forgotten form of cultivation. Her duty: to defeat the God of the Sea and restore balance to the universe. Her quest: to venture across the high seas and to different worlds, all to save her little brother from a deadly poison. To make matters worse, she¡¯s the avatar of the weakest God in the pantheon. She must train, earn, and fight for every inch of progress she makes. If she can¡¯t master her power in time, she will lose her brother forever¡ªif she isn''t killed by the servants of an angry God first. A cultivation flintlock fantasy set during the age of sail, where life-energy is absorbed from magic waters, where black powder dominates warfare, and where pirates rule the oceans.
What to Expect: - Cultivation in a flintlock fantasy world. It¡¯s not in your typical xianxia setting. This world is meant to have a western, seafaring fantasy feel, despite using a cultivation system. - Weak to strong progression. A reasonably-flawed lead with immense potential for growth¡ªwhen the growth is earned. - An adventure. Characters have goals and destinations that often lead them far from home in the search for power. - A bit of grit. Characters aren¡¯t invincible and injuries are inevitable. - Worldbuilding and slice-of-life. Characters won¡¯t always be gaining new abilities and power each chapter. - 1800-2500 word chapters.
In an era of gunpowder, cannons, and conflict on a scale never before seen, do immortals and magic still have a place? With the world against her, can Vayra turn the tides in her favour? Can she¡­even survive?
Chapter 1: Return [Volume 2] Myrrir had never dreaded a meeting with his father more than he did now. His jaw was set. He clasped his hands behind his back to stop them from trembling, and he watched the sea shift anxiously as he sailed towards the shore. The port was busy, but no one came to greet him. He sailed until he could make out individual people on the piers. It was as far as he dared to bring his ship. They dropped anchor, and he offloaded a rowboat. He paddled alone, laboriously, towards a distant pier. His arms and muscles stinged. After a few days of cycling his Arcara to his newly-sustained wounds, they were mostly healed, but his body still ached. There wasn¡¯t much he could do about that. The rowboat bumped into a bollard. He had arrived. He climbed up out of the boat, scaling the ladder up to the tall piers. They were made for much, much larger ships¡ªnot rowboats¡ªbut he didn¡¯t want to tie his precious vessel, the Hyovao, up close to the pier. If he sailed too close, his father could crush it to splinters with a spare thought. Myrrir walked along the pier and stepped onto the wharf, rehearsing what he would tell his father. I offer ten-thousand apologies, and¡ª But Father didn¡¯t like sycophantic vassals. Why would he want the same from his son? No, no. She died, but there will be another Mediator, and I can hunt the next one just the same. But there would never be another Mediator as weak as the Phason¨¦¡¯s Mediator. He¡¯d ruined their best chance by letting her sacrifice herself. She¡¯d sailed right past a singularity. There was only one outcome of that¡ªdeath. Now he had to explain that to his Father. He had to explain his failed mission. The wharf blended with the city. He stepped into a valley of tall sandstone buildings shingled with red roofs, glimmering lanterns, and bustling civilians. Horse-drawn carriages raced past, and people in raggety garb ran to and fro, trying to close their shops for the evening. Among them, Myrrir sensed a few minor Godborn by the tingling in the back of his neck. No one more powerful than Master¡¯s Mate in the lower city, for sure, but there were a few of them. It was only natural, being so close to the residence of a true God. Nilsenir, God of Piracy, and Myrrir¡¯s father. In Stellacova, the pirate stronghold, there were no laws. Flinlock pistols banged and people brawled, and the very air reeked of rum. Myrrir kept his head down. For a few long minutes, he walked higher and higher up the sloping shoreline. His target: the Hall of Piratedeep, his Father¡¯s residence. The higher he climbed, the less rowdy the city became, until finally, he was alone again and the streets were silent. He climbed up the stairs to the Hall, a straight, broad path whose steps were wide and long enough to accommodate a horse¡ªor an army of them. Halfway up, Myrrir encountered a pair of guards. They were pirate militiamen, dressed in vibrant livery. When he concentrated on their spirit, he sensed that they were minor Godborn, and both Lieutenants. Lieutenants were rare, especially if they weren¡¯t direct descendants of a member of the High Pantheon. But to guard a God, they were unnecessary. Nilsenir needed no guards, except for show. That didn¡¯t stop the guards from blocking Myrrir¡¯s path. ¡°Who goes there?¡± one, a man with long blonde dreadlocks, asked. ¡°Seeking an audience with Nilsenir at such an hour, huh? What¡¯s¡ª¡± Myrrir turned his shoulder forward and pushed through the two guards. He cycled his Arcara, hoping it would make his spirit flare, and they would sense that he was more powerful than them. On Stellacova, strength was all that mattered. The second Lieutenant drew his pistol and cocked it. ¡°Captain, are you? Our lord is having dinner; you¡¯ll have to wait.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll see his son,¡± Myrrir snapped. ¡°I have news that can¡¯t wait.¡± ¡°Myrrir?¡± the first guard exclaimed. ¡°By the Stream, you look awful!¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the news?¡± demanded the second guard. ¡°There¡¯s little Nilsenir doesn¡¯t hear, and he¡¯ll have our heads if it¡¯s something he already knows!¡± ¡°Then that¡¯s your problem, not mine.¡± Myrrir stormed past the guards and sprinted up the rest of the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he arrived at the Hall¡¯s gates, he heaved them open with a single push, then marched in. Two more guards waited inside the hall, though these men had no spirit potential¡ªthey were regular humans; attendants, more than guards. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. They didn¡¯t try to stop Myrrir. They let him blaze down the long, sandstone chamber. It was dark. Myrrir could barely see the banners hanging from the roof or the dais at the end of the hall, but a single lit brazier illuminated the throne. Nilsenir sat on the throne, eating from a platter in his lap. He glanced up for a moment and scowled, then turned back to his meal¡ªsome sort of roasted bird. As he ate, he said, ¡°I was wondering when you would return.¡± ¡°Before you hope for any longer, I don¡¯t bear good news,¡± Myrrir said. He approached the foot on the throne and knelt. He glued his gaze to the floor. ¡°As I figured, when you returned back here.¡± Myrrir scrunched his eyebrows, and he felt a burst of indignance sear his mind before he shut it down. ¡°I could have¡ª¡± Nilsenir set his tray on his throne¡¯s armrest, then hauled himself to his feet with his one real hand and his other brass hook that served for a hand. ¡°I would have thought you¡¯d captured her, too, until I heard rumors swirling about. The Mediator, spotted on Ramesworld, hunting down a rogue Godborn.¡± Myrrir gasped, ready to leap back to his feet and serve his father, when a chill ran down his spine. It might not have been her. ¡°The¡­phoenix?¡± ¡°The halfblood, yes.¡± Nilsenir stepped off his dais and set a hand on Myrrir¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The orange-haired girl, pointy ears, blue eyes, the like. What do you say to that?¡± Myrrir¡¯s mouth slipped open. ¡°I saw¡ªI saw her die. She sailed into Yorth¡¯s Remorse.¡± ¡°Evidently, she survived.¡± Nilsenir¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°I¡¯m often the first to hear rumours in this sector. But it¡¯s been a week since I first heard whispers of her survival, and those rumours have gotten around. And the more the word spreads, the more people hear about the Mediator.¡± He tapped Myrrir on the top of his head with his other hand, brass hook clinking against Myrrir¡¯s crystalline hair. ¡°If I let this go on any longer, you¡¯ll cause me a good deal of embarrassment.¡± Myrrir gulped. ¡°I will get back out, father. I will keep hunting. I still have¡­a year and a half, give or take.¡± ¡°You may hunt. But I think it would be¡­wise to push our timeline up.¡± ¡°What¡ª¡± ¡°In the coming weeks, all planets in the Tarrebian will be plastered with bounties¡ªwhoever captures a young half-phoenix by the name of Vayra, who displays the abilities of a Godborn using a starlight Path, and brings her back to me alive, will receive a reward fit for the first son of a God. Mind you, they won¡¯t know who she truly is, to keep those rumours to a minimum, but I hope you understand.¡± ¡°Father, I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Myrrir, and you¡¯re lucky. That¡¯s what you are.¡± ¡°If you give me¡­give me the time I was promised,¡± Myrrir whispered, ¡°I will bring her back.¡± ¡°As far as I¡¯m concerned, you¡¯ve already failed me.¡± Nilsenir let go of Myrrir¡¯s shoulder with a push, driving his son towards the floor. ¡°If I¡¯ve heard of this, then so has Karmion. You¡¯ve embarrassed me. Bringing the Mediator to him now will save face for me, at best.¡± He turned back to the dais and stepped up onto it, then glanced back. ¡°The order has already been sent out, Myrrir.¡± Myrrir bit his lip and winced. There was no sense in arguing. ¡°What can I do to make this right, father? I¡¯ve only served you, and I will keep serving you.¡± Scoffing, Nilsenir dropped back onto his throne. ¡°Get out of my sight, and bring me the Mediator before a lowly bounty hunter does. If you return to Stellacova without her, I¡¯ll consider your life forfeit.¡± He picked up his tray again. ¡°What good was raising you to Captain if you can¡¯t bring me a month-old Mediator? What good was repairing your hands, or your leg, or your very lungs, with a half-century¡¯s worth of starsteel, if you can¡¯t do what you were asked to?¡± He motioned towards the doors with his one hand. ¡°Out. Now. Go.¡± Myrrir rose to his feet and spun around, then walked back towards the doors. He took one last glance at his father, clenched his fist, then said, ¡°I will make you proud, father.¡± He pulled open the hall¡¯s doors and ran down the stairs. Nilsenir hadn¡¯t given him a deadline to leave by, but he figured he should get out as soon as he could. He returned to the port, climbed back into his rowboat, and rowed back to the Hyovao. It was a three-masted junk clad in entirely black wood¡ªbarring a few red and gold accents, and the enormous red lantern hanging off its stern. He rowed up to its hull, nestling the rowboat between the round gun ports, and hooked it onto the davits. Myrrir¡¯s crew raised him up to the edge of the bulwark. He leapt out of the rowboat and landed on the main deck. ¡°Welcome back, Captain!¡± a few cheered, but most looked nervous. Myrrir put on a brave smile. ¡°What? You didn¡¯t think I¡¯d make it?¡± He clapped one of the sailors on the shoulder, then walked towards the quarterdeck. He had to admit, it felt good to be back¡ªand in one piece. He climbed up the stairs to the quarterdeck. The coxswains leaned on the tiller, ready to accept his orders, and his first officer, Tye, stood with the navigators. ¡°Charting a course out of here?¡± Myrrir asked Tye. ¡°We figured it would be best to be ready, in case you had to make a quick escape,¡± Tye said. He dipped his head and rolled his shoulders, then rubbed his back and groaned. ¡°How did it go?¡± ¡°Not well.¡± Myrrir pulled Tye into the great cabin, a room at the very stern of the junk, and explained everything his father had told him. A table ran down the center of the cabin. Myrrir pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat. ¡°We have no choice but to keep hunting.¡± ¡°Unless you left your father¡¯s service,¡± Tye said softly. He was a human, and humans aged¡ªTye included. His hair was gray, and he looked tired. ¡°You don¡¯t have to keep doing this, Myrrir.¡± Myrrir shook his head and sighed. ¡°And then what? Without Nilsenir¡¯s Godhood, I¡¯ll never ascend past the naval ranks.¡± ¡°Is everything in your life about ascension?¡± Myrrir scowled, then clenched his fists. Beneath his gloves, wood clinked, and starsteel wires rattled. ¡°I will reach the peak, Tye. I will. I¡¯m close to Commodore, and with a couple more weeks of cycling, my core will ascend.¡± ¡°Very few Godborn ever reach Commodore, and you would be very¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not enough!¡± Myrrir hissed. Ambitious swirled in his mind. ¡°I need father¡¯s approval, and I know how to get it.¡± Tye¡¯s eyes drooped, and he rolled his lips inward. ¡°Very well, Myrrir.¡± ¡°Good. Then we¡¯ll set sail immediately.¡± Chapter 2: Bayou Ambush [Volume 2] Vayra thought her first time visiting the bayou of Ramesworld would be more¡­peaceful. She had imagined herself rowing gently through the reeds or marvelling at the enormous mangrove trees. Instead, she sprinted along a wooden walkway above the murky water, ducking and swerving to avoid raging columns of wind. She hadn¡¯t planned on running, but everything about her ambush hadn¡¯t gone as planned. Now, she had a Quartermaster-stage God-heir on her tail, throwing spears of wind at her back fast enough to rip her flesh from her bones. Already, she had taken a glancing blow to her thigh, and it had sheared a fist-wide chunk of skin off. She jumped over a barrel and spun around a post, then pulled a crate of rotting potatoes down into her pursuer¡¯s path. A gust of wind scattered them. She cursed under her breath¡ªshe¡¯d lost more time dumping the bucket than she had gained. She looked up, and all she saw was a thick canopy of mangrove leaves and branches, wound so tight together that they almost entirely obscured the stars. She might be able to muster a simple pulse of starlight, and that would be it. The good news? The path was sloping upwards, towards the slightly-less-swampy plains, where she could see faint beams of starlight cutting down through the night air to the walkway. Almost there, and her pursuer knew it. She clenched her fists and spared a glance over her shoulder. Nalla Pren Cherrdra, a distant descendant of the Goddess of Wind, and currently, the commander of the Ramesworld siege. The woman, human as far as Vayra could tell, wore a deep blue coat and a tricorn hat that barely clung to her head. She was a bluecoat in almost every way¡ªexcept she wasn¡¯t fodder. The armies were already clashing. Vayra¡¯s responsibility was dealing with Nalla. With any luck, Vayra would defeat her and reach the city by midnight. She ducked under another column of wind, tripped over a loose board, and tumbled along the planks. Nalla blasted out another spear of wind, and Vayra flicked her hand outward, unleashing a Starlight Palm out into the air. The flash of white starlight was just enough to dispel the God-heir¡¯s technique before it ripped a hole in Vayra¡¯s chest. ¡®Get up, get up, get up,¡¯ Phason¨¦ urged. The Goddess of Starlight¡¯s voice rattled around Vayra¡¯s mind, bouncing off the inside of her skull and striking every inch of Vayra¡¯s head with its booming tone. ¡®She¡¯ll tear us apart if we can¡¯t get to starlight soon!¡¯ ¡°Working on it,¡± Vayra hissed back. She kicked up to her feet and broke into a sprint, pushing herself down the walkway as fast as she could. She didn¡¯t have a proper technique to enhance her body with Arcara yet, but thankfully, it didn¡¯t seem like Nalla did either, and they were both stuck running as fast as their mortal bodies would let them. Ahead, the walkway turned ninety degrees, running parallel with a deeper channel. A few cargo cranes reached over the edge, but the entire walkway was deserted¡ªeven the rowboats that bobbed in the river, half unloaded. Vayra¡¯s head whipped side to side. If she turned, she¡¯d put herself further away from the open sky. Her only choice was across the channel. She jumped off the edge of the walkway and landed on a natural platform of mangrove roots, then leapt to a drifting rowboat. It rocked precariously under her feet, and she nearly fell off into the murky water. A blast of wind chased her, throwing swamp water and peat over the small boat¡¯s gunwale. Vayra jumped onto the opposite gunwale, and before she could tip the boat with her weight, she jumped to the winch of a nearby cargo crane. Her fingers barely latched onto the rope in time. The crane¡¯s boom swung outward over the channel, and she let go of the rope just in time. She landed on the opposite side of the channel in a crouch. There was another walkway, almost like a miniature harbour, with a single path leading towards the open sky and distant fields. Vayra glanced over her shoulder. Nalla jumped across. The God-heir lost height halfway, but blasted a puff of wind downwards, propelling herself the last little distance. Vayra had seen¡­a few God-heirs before, but she knew that they always had a way to jump long distances, even if they didn¡¯t yet have an enhanced body. Vayra had already started running. She vaulted over a stack of crates, then dodged the bulk of a tree that had fallen across the walkway. Already, she could hear the distant booming of field cannons and faint-in-comparison popping of muskets. The walkway sloped up, and the canopy overhead thinned. Vayra held out her hand and said, ¡°Phason¨¦! Now would be a good time for the scythe!¡± ¡®On it!¡¯ ¡°What, you weren¡¯t already holding it?¡± ¡®I was busy trying not to smell this horrible swamp! Oh, I can¡¯t wait until you¡¯re strong enough to block your own senses¡­¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Just grab the scythe!¡± Vayra hissed. She spun around and dispelled another gust of wind with a Starlight Palm. There was enough starlight for her to form shields, now, and it was just in time. She poured a layer of defensive starlight-soaked Arcara into her blouse, cushioning a column of wind surging directly at her chest. The force of the blast still flung her along the walkway. The twigs and debris caught in the gale sliced her shoulders and slashed her cheeks, but at least the wind didn¡¯t shatter her ribs or tear her flesh off her body. ¡®Scythe is ready!¡¯ Phason¨¦ called. As Vayra rolled onto her back, she relinquished control of her right hand. As long as Phason¨¦ was holding the weapon, it would work. White starlight climbed up Vayra¡¯s fingers and forearms, forming a ghostly outline of her hand. With a loud snap-hiss, a scythe of shimmering white light sprung out of her hand. Vayra gripped it with her left hand as well, the hand she hadn¡¯t given away control of. Nalla stopped where she stood, then scowled. She wasn¡¯t armed, but she formed her hands into fists, then raised them like a boxer. A small gale of wind swirled around each of them. Every second, they sucked up more and more debris. With an enraged shout, Nalla leapt forward. She struck the flat of Vayra¡¯s scythe, knocking Vayra back a foot. Vayra retaliated, aiming to cut through the gusts of wind whirling around Nalla¡¯s fists. The God-heir ducked under the swipe and retaliated with a gust of wind. Vayra cut through the gust, scattering wisps of wind across the walkway like tiny little snakes. They ripped through a railing, scattering splinters and sawdust into the air. Nalla pushed Vayra back along the walkway with rapid punches, and it took all of Vayra¡¯s concentration to block them. She whirled her scythe back and forth, scattering wind. Nalla¡¯s attacks were mainly Guide techniques; they used Arcara formations to move the wind¡ªa more powerful form of the Starlight Palm, with a more readily-available domain to draw from. The final punch struck Vayra in the shoulder. She swatted through the blast of wind with the shaft of her scythe, but Nalla¡¯s fist still hit. The air compressed between the woman¡¯s knuckles and Vayra¡¯s skin. Empowered by the last of the God-heir¡¯s Guide technique, it whirled, then cracked like thunder. One second, Vayra stood on the walkway, and the next, she had been flung back a few yards. The walkway merged with a muddy beach, which sloped up to the woods and the distant fields. Vayra landed on her back. As she slid, the blade of her scythe slashed through a knotted tree¡¯s roots, and the entire plant toppled down to the muddy shore. She came to a rest in front of a barrel, and she scrambled behind it to shelter. ¡°Mana, Phason¨¦?¡± Vayra asked. She and the God-heirs needed mana to fuel their cycling techniques, to move Arcara through their body. With neither Vayra nor Nalla higher than Quartermaster, they both ran out fast. ¡®You¡¯re half empty,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Let¡¯s say half topped-up.¡± Vayra tilted her head up. Past the lowlands, hills, and fields, was the ocean. Beyond it, the Eternal Stream. The massive river of spirit water climbed up into the heavens. It was the best source of mana, but it was also miles away. Vayra jumped back to her feet, then rolled her shoulder. It would leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. ¡®Can I suggest the Mediator Form?¡¯ the Goddess suggested. Vayra ducked under a blast of wind. ¡°For just a Quartermaster? Overkill.¡± ¡®We both know that¡¯s an excuse.¡¯ Nalla closed the distance with another wind-fuelled hop. Vayra ducked to the side, then planted both feet on the muddy shore and spun around to the other side of a skeletal tree before Nalla kicked a gust of wind at her chin. ¡°Believe me, I would if I could,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying, but it¡¯s not doing anything.¡± Nalla flung a blast of wind, shattering the nest of roots at the base of the tree Vayra hid behind. Vayra broke into a sprint again, ducking through the trees and chopping them behind her as she ran. Maybe it¡¯d slow Nalla, or maybe one would plunk down onto the God-heir¡¯s head and make Vayra¡¯s job really, really easy. ¡®Can I suggest trying harder,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡°You can read my mind! You can see that I¡¯m working on going full-glowy and all that!¡± Ever since Vayra had escaped from Myrrir, she and Phason¨¦ hadn¡¯t been able to use the Mediator Form¡ªshe hadn¡¯t gotten any further than a sleeve¡¯s worth of starlight. But a quartermaster shouldn¡¯t be a problem for the Mediator, and Vayra didn¡¯t need the Mediator Form to defeat someone like Nalla¡ªshe was sure of it. She had starlight, Arcara, and mana, and that was all she needed. As she ran, she clenched her forearms, pressing her skin against her starsteel bracers. As she breathed, she cycled, and she pushed her Arcara out of her body and into the bracers. The engraved knots in the metal lit up with blue sparks. When the Arcara flowed back into her body, it felt warm and fulfilling. Her scythe shone brighter, and when she used a Starlight Palm to dispel a fistful of wind, she barely had to charge it. As she ran, the forest changed. The ground turned from mud to dirt, and the mangrove trees faded into robust willows and cypresses. Ahead, Vayra spotted the edge of the woods. When all of Vayra¡¯s Arcara had been bolstered by the starsteel bracers, she stopped and turned, then shoved the shaft of her scythe forwards. It struck Nalla in the forehead. The God-heir stumbled backwards. Vayra went on the offensive. She and Phason¨¦ used a well-rehearsed pattern of scythe swipes, hacking through Nalla¡¯s defenses. They finished with a slash down Nalla¡¯s leg. As the God-heir reeled, Vayra unloaded a Starlight Palm into her stomach, flinging her back into a tree. Only one of them was getting out of the woods. Leaving Nalla alive would be a mistake; she commanded an army of Bluecoats, and surely, she wouldn¡¯t let Vayra go easily. Vayra jumped forwards. Nalla ducked down, barely avoiding the first swipe. She couldn¡¯t dodge the second. As fast as she could, Vayra hacked downwards, carving a burning gash across the woman¡¯s body. Vayra turned away as fast as she could, then shut her eyes and grimaced. ¡®Well, that solves that¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I told you we didn¡¯t need the Mediator Form,¡± Vayra muttered. She retook control of her hand, forcing Phason¨¦ out. When she opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the white starlight streaking off her hand and snaking back up into the sky. She took a deep breath, then looked out of the woods. Smoke wafted out of the fields beyond. The distant booming cannons didn¡¯t seem so distant anymore, nor did the shouts of line infantry or cries of horses. She didn¡¯t know who was winning. ¡°We have a battle to get back to¡­¡± Chapter 3: Massacre [Volume 2] Vayra took one more breath to compose herself. She began her cycling pattern, pushing mana and Arcara around her body and preparing herself to use magical techniques, then sprinted out of the woods. The fields beyond the edge of the forest rose and fell gently. The low points were filled with marshes and reeds, and the high tops laden with windswept stalks. She came to the top of an especially tall hillock, and stumbled to a halt. Beyond, just down the other side of the slope, she found the source of the smoke. The battle. In the wet, muddy lowlands between a couple hills, lines of blue and red clashed. A wall of Velaydian Redmarines marched forward, unrelenting, driven by a cheery piccolo trill that seemed completely unfit for the brutality on display. Vayra couldn¡¯t tell what had happened or how the battle had started, but bodies of marines and bluecoats alike had been strewn across the fields. Muskets still cracked, but most of the fighting now was bayonet on bayonet, with the occasional barrage of cannonfire. The moment Vayra took a step down the slope, a deep boom penetrated her chest, and bouquets of smoke bloomed from the slope of a nearby hill. The shots ripped through the ranks of bluecoats, scattering their ranks. A man on a horse rode behind the ranks of the bluecoats, and he shouted something that Vayra couldn¡¯t make out. She didn¡¯t need to make out the order, though. The rider was a messenger, and surely, he carried news about the fate of Nalla¡ªwhether he knew that she had been killed, he must have known that she was ambushed on her way to this battle. The Elderworld lines had thinned too much, and their God-heir commander wasn¡¯t coming to help. Slowly, the bluecoat line disintegrated. Those who could turn away did. They ran back across the fields, fleeing north. Vayra squinted through the smoke. On the horizon, to the north, she spotted a dark mound. If she hadn¡¯t known better, she might have said it was a mountain. Her first day on Ramesworld, she had made that mistake, but not today. It was the city of Leansfield. No lights glimmered on its tightly-packed towers or shone in the streets, and it was entirely silent. They almost had it liberated. Vayra ran as fast as she could down the slope. As she half-sprinted-half-stumbled, she located a set of officers in red coats, who stood back from the battle at a safe distance. ¡°Commander!¡± she called. ¡°Commander!¡± One of the red-coated officers turned about to face her. If it wasn¡¯t for his scars and eyepatch, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell how old he was¡ªhe wore a thick wrap around his neck and a powdered wig that covered the sides of his head. When he saw her, he dipped his head. ¡°Mediator Vayra. Were you successful?¡± Vayra rubbed her shoulder. ¡°I took care of Nalla.¡± ¡°Then we have a clear shot to Leansfield,¡± he said sternly, and motioned towards the officer to his left. The officer, wearing a brass cavalry helmet, jogged off to one of his attendants, who provided him a horse. A week ago, when Vayra had arrived at Ramesworld, she had met Commander Kochrann. He was one of the many commanders responsible for the planet¡¯s defense against the Elderworld incursions, but no matter how vast his armies were, there was little they could do against a God-heir. ¡°The cavalry is on their way to the city,¡± Kochrann told her. ¡°They¡¯ll clear the way for us. We¡¯ll send those bluecoats back where they came from.¡± ¡°I was thinking you might need more help here,¡± Vayra told him. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet,¡± said Kochrann. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find plenty of bluecoats holed up in the city.¡± Vayra looked back at the silhouette of Leansfield. As far as she knew (which wasn¡¯t a whole lot) there were still plenty of innocent civilians sheltering in the city. The faster they kicked the bluecoats out, the better the city would fare. ¡°Can I borrow a horse?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I won¡¯t be much good standing back here.¡± ¡°For the Mediator?¡± Kochrann nodded. ¡°Certainly, ma¡¯am.¡± He looked over his shoulder and beckoned over a couple men who held the reins of a saddled stallion. ¡°He¡¯ll bear you well and fast, that much is certain.¡± Vayra climbed up into the horse¡¯s saddle. It had dark fur and a mottled mane, and its lean muscles tensed, ready to run. She¡¯d only ridden a horse a few times before, but Velaydian horses were well trained and brave, and she wouldn¡¯t have to do much work to keep it in line. She grabbed its reins and prepared to ride off, but before she could spur the creature into action, Commander Kochrann tapped her leg. ¡°There¡¯ll be a debriefing afterwards. Sector commanders, governors and lords, and anyone else they deemed important. It¡¯d be wise for you to attend.¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± Vayra told him. She almost added, If there¡¯s nothing else I need to be doing, but she doubted there would be anything more important. ¡®Than this kind of meeting?¡¯ Phason¨¦ interjected. ¡®Certainly not, Vayra. You¡¯ve defeated the God-heir, and now they¡¯ll probably re-assign you, or have another mission. And hopefully, something to help your advancement.¡¯ ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯m working on it, and I¡¯m¡­just being¡­I dunno.¡± She had hoped that, when they pushed the bluecoats back past Leansfield, there would be time to rest¡ªand to see the city a little. ¡°I guess we just have to push the bluecoats out a little faster, then.¡± She tightened her legs against the horse¡¯s flanks, and it sprinted off. She guided it around the edge of the battlefield, dodging bodies and debris, then navigated through the center of the field cannon cluster. As she passed through, a group of gunners seemed to recognize her¡ªor they put the clues together. They waved and smiled, and she wasn¡¯t sure how to process the information. Other than stress, of course. They had the Mediator on their side, and she couldn¡¯t let them down. She shook her head and scrunched her eyebrows, and blazed past the battlefield as fast as she could. She¡¯d never been concerned about what people thought of her before. Less than a month ago, she had only been worried about saving her brother. Now¡­there were so many people who knew about her. As she entered the open fields, she fixed her gaze firmly on Leansfield. A sigh broke her lips, interrupting her cycling pattern, and she couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of sorrow. ¡®You¡¯ll get your chance to see the galaxy, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ assured her. ¡®Or you¡¯ll see something, at least. Well, you are seeing it.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m seeing destruction and carnage,¡± Vayra whispered back. ¡®You¡¯ll get used to it. Better than being stuck on Decathe your whole life?¡¯ She offered a faint smile, even if she knew Phason¨¦ couldn¡¯t see it. ¡°Marginally.¡± ¡®Well, that¡¯s something.¡¯ As she rode towards Leansfield, slowly, the sight changed. She was sure there wasn¡¯t a sunrise, but it almost looked as though the sun was climbing up behind the city. Orange light glimmered on the windows and¡­flickered in the distant streets, illuminating the gaps between buildings and towers. The entire city looked like a massive glowing ember. Smoke poured out from more than just the chimneys. It billowed high up into the sky, a gray column barely visible against the night blackness. Vayra¡¯s stomach lurched. ¡°Fire!¡± ¡®They¡¯re burning it¡­¡¯ She tried to urge her horse to run faster, but it was already sprinting. The hillocks faded, and across the plains, she spotted a road. She guided the horse over to it. The stallion leapt over a fence and landed on the trodden path, its hooves skittering for just a moment. On the worn-down mud, it could run much faster. By the time she reached the city outskirts, flames scoured everything ahead of her. A tower crumbled in the distance, plummeting into the street, and it was met with a chorus of shrieks. Silhouettes dumped buckets of water on the flames, but there weren¡¯t enough of them. Those who did escape into the streets found themselves at the mercy of waiting bluecoats. The path turned into a paved road, and Vayra rode along it as fast as she could. Ahead, she spotted Velaydian cavalry charging through the streets, blasting bluecoats with muskets or hacking at them with sabers. Vayra plowed through one of the Elderworld infantrymen, and flung another into the flames with a Starlight Palm. ¡®Remember, Vayra, your half-phoenix skin might be immune to the heat, but I¡¯m not,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Don¡¯t get too close to the flames, or I¡¯ll start to blister up.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can!¡± She rode through the streets, trying to stick to the broadest corridors where she wouldn¡¯t have to brave a valley of flames, but that didn¡¯t keep her safe from the crumbling towers or scurrying bluecoats. She tried to deal with as many of the bluecoats as she could, but most were already retreating from the city. Her blasts of starlight (and, after a few minutes, she conjured her scythe) were just more incentive for them to run from the destruction they¡¯d caused. When she couldn¡¯t find any more bluecoats, she took to a new purpose: protecting what she could. A tall wooden tower collapsed towards her and a cluster of civilians. She poured a shield of starlight into the roof of the house, guarding it from the mass of the tower and holding it together. Barely. It drove her to her knees, and she spent the next minute panting, trying to get back into a cycling pattern that would help her. The night continued in a haze of smoke and sparks and flame. She protected what she could, barely thinking about anything or anyone she saw¡ªjust doing her best to stay alive, and hopefully keep others alive. At some point in the chaos, her horse ran away, and she let it. There was no point hurting it, or letting it be burnt alive. After another hour, she was almost out of mana. Her mouth was parched¡ªdepleting her mana so low dehydrated her, as it would for any God-heir¡ªand her body ached, and Phason¨¦ complained about the heat. Vayra retreated back into the fields to the south of the city, and stood, watching the flames burn down to embers and ashes. She shut her eyes, first in disappointment, then in frustration. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this. Calling on the last dregs of mana in Vayra¡¯s body, Phason¨¦ spoke to her: ¡®We tried, Vayra, but this is war.¡¯ ¡°And it¡¯s my job to put an end to it, isn¡¯t it? If I ever want to see the galaxy as it should be, I need to defeat the Elderworlds.¡± ¡®Yes, you will.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll have to do it as quickly as possible. At some point, I¡¯ll have to face Karmion, and that means I can¡¯t just¡­stay stuck at Quartermaster like this. Stuck without the Mediator Form, everything.¡± She paused, then fell back onto her hands. ¡°We need a teacher¡­someone who can help raise us up. That¡¯s what we need.¡± Chapter 4: Whats Left Behind [Volume 2] By the time the sun rose, Leansfield looked like a forest in the winter. All that remained of buildings were twisted frames, skeletal trees covered with pale ash. Or, thicker stone foundations with branches made of empty window frames. Vayra wandered around the city¡¯s empty port. A few ships waited offshore, untouched by the blaze, but most merchant vessels had fled from the city¡¯s main Stream-facing harbour, and the remaining Elderworld warships had been chased off. Vayra sat down on the wharf, smudging ash all over her brown trousers, then pulled her boots off. She dipped her feet into the water. Wisps of Stream water gathered around her legs. Mana flooded into her body, and she began to cycle it. Every second she spent cycling, she converted miniscule amounts of mana into usable Arcara. More Arcara¡­meant more power. But her breathing techniques didn''t seem well-suited to the task. ¡®I¡¯m sure if you found a good teacher, you could learn a much better technique for cycling and purifying Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra nodded, feeling a swell of power as another wisp of iridescent Stream water brushed against her calf. ¡°You don¡¯t have to convince me.¡± ¡®Just pointing it out.¡¯ After a few minutes of absorbing mana and cycling, a Vayra became aware of a Redmarine standing behind her¡ªonly because his musket clattered a little. Taking a step back, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb you, miss.¡± ¡°No, no!¡± Vayra pulled her feet out of the water and pulled her boots back on. As she laced them up, she asked, ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Commander Kochrann bade me to inform you that the gathering has begun.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. Instead of tying her second boot¡¯s laces in a proper knot, she shoved them down the ankle and leapt to her feet. ¡°Where?¡± ¡°Follow me, if you will.¡± He turned on his heels, then set off into the city at a brisk, marching pace. He was just slightly faster than her normal walking speed, and every so often, she had to jog a little to catch up. Finally, they arrived at the city¡¯s central, administrative hall. It had once been the hall of the planet¡¯s local Lord and member of parliament, but now, all that remained was a stone outline. The roof was entirely gone, as well as the windows and wooden wall panels, leaving a simple stone fence around the structure. It was long enough to fit a galleon three times down its length. They ran up the steps to the front terrace. There were no doors to push open, but a host of marines and horsemen stood guard. They parted for Vayra. The marine who had led her to this place halted and told her, ¡°I dare not go any further, miss, or Commander Kochrann will have my head.¡± She stepped into the interior of the wall, wary of the ashen remains of the rafters overhead. They creaked and groaned in the breeze, threatening to crumble at a moment¡¯s notice. In the center of the hall, where the rafters had already collapsed and there was no danger, a ring of officers and well-dressed Lords, Ladies, and members of parliament had gathered. Parchment had been laid out on the table, and a silver, three-dimensional map of the galaxy perched delicately in the center. They were already talking softly amongst themselves. She spotted Commander Kochrann at the end of the table, but he wasn¡¯t the most powerful person in attendance, not one bit. First, she recognized Elder Gheita of the Order of Balance¡¯s Gray Council, then she picked out a man and a woman not in military attire¡ªrather, a fancy coat and dress respectively. Maybe they were Ramesworld¡¯s current rulers. Vayra approached the table cautiously. She wasn¡¯t exactly dressed for a formal meeting, and she still dragged harbour water behind her wherever she stepped. One of the officers, a man in a red coat, was speaking. ¡°...taken Leansfield, and we might push back their siege of the planet, but how long before they send more ships? The navy has proven its inability to prevent landing parties.¡± Vayra still didn¡¯t know their uniforms well, but she knew red coats belonged to the marines and yellow to naval officers. Commander Kochrann nodded solemnly. ¡°There¡¯s just too much of the Stream to patrol, and when ships come in, they come too fast. We don¡¯t have the numbers to hold them off before they reach the shores.¡± ¡°Do not speak for the navy, Commander,¡± said an elf in a yellow coat. ¡°If the Elderworlds knew they could land successfully on every planet, they¡¯d already have done it. We can assume that they haven¡¯t laid siege to any of the worlds deeper into our territory because they are incapable of it.¡± ¡°Or because they need to maintain supply chains,¡± another said. ¡°What purpose is taking Thronehome if their bluecoats starve in a few months?¡± ¡®How about because Karmion has an obsession with subjugating everyone. Why wouldn¡¯t he work one world at a time?¡¯ Phason¨¦ interjected. ¡®Tell them that, Vayra. Tell them for me.¡¯ Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ??Vayra leaned between a pair of the councillors and placed her hands on the table. She told them all what Phason¨¦ had explained. ¡°Whatever the reason,¡± Commander Kochrann interrupted, ¡°we cannot hold on forever. More waves will come. Karmion can build ships twice as fast as we can, and his bluecoats are amassing for another push. Even if they don¡¯t concentrate their efforts, they might be able to break the Line of Battle through sheer attrition.¡± The discussion continued for a few more minutes. Slowly, as they spoke, more and more gazes drifted towards Vayra. ¡°Must we place all our hopes in her, then?¡± asked a woman in an ornate dress, who Vayra gleaned was the Member of Parliament for Ramesworld. Her eyes clung to Vayra, latching onto her like grappling hooks. ¡°Raise her high enough, and she can level armies with a sweep of her arm.¡± ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for Mediator Vayra, you would have had to contend with a God-heir last night,¡± Elder Gheita said, raising her hands. ¡°It will take years for her to reach the point you want.¡± ¡°So why aren¡¯t we starting now?¡± Vayra gulped. Elder Gheita thought she was progressing, but as far as Vayra was concerned, she had reached a roadblock. ¡®Well, if you¡¯re going to admit that you need a teacher, now would be the time,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡°Working on it,¡± Vayra whispered back, drawing a startled glance from a nearby officer. She looked around, then louder, said, ¡°I really need the advice of a teacher. The Gray Council gave me time to choose, but I need to find whoever it is now. I¡¯ve¡­I¡¯ve gotten stuck. I¡¯m gathering and refining Arcara, sure, but the closer I get to the Quartermaster stage, the further away it feels. And if my core fills up too soon, if I have to advance before I¡¯m ready, I won¡¯t have a proper foundation for the next stages. Let alone higher realms.¡± Elder Gheita gazed onward with understanding, and Commander Kochrann nodded respectfully. But everyone else began to mumble and grumble to each other. The member of parliament cleared her throat. ¡°If, if, Vayra fell, and a new Mediator came to replace her, would the next Mediator have a more powerful inhabitor-god? Or, simply, a Mediator who doesn¡¯t get a block in her cultivation?¡± ¡°There is no guarantee that we¡¯d be able to find the next Mediator,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°We¡¯re lucky Vayra wasn¡¯t caught by Karmion¡¯s thugs, and we¡¯re lucky she didn¡¯t happen to be in Elderworld space when she was created.¡± She shook her head. ¡°If Vayra dies, the next Mediator may be snapped up in an instant. Imprisoned, or worse, what if Karmion manages to turn a Mediator to his cause?¡± The member of parliament scoffed, then turned her head down. ¡°I would be open to this council¡¯s suggestions,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Since you¡¯ve dealt with Nalla,¡± Commander Kochrann said, ¡°We can handle matters here. I wouldn¡¯t protest if you returned to Thronehome and truly took to your progression in the hands of the Order.¡± She had hoped they might provide another suggestion. Not that she didn¡¯t want to travel to Thronehome, but the elders of the Order weren¡¯t God-heirs, nor were they a Mediator. They didn¡¯t have everything she needed. Besides, Thronehome was one planet. It might have been the capital of the Velaydian Kingdom, but¡­being tied up there for years, cycling, meditating, and tirelessly training? Was that really what she wanted? ¡°How about Phason¨¦? Can Phason¨¦ guide her?¡± asked another officer. For a moment, Vayra tilted her head, entertaining the proposition. ¡®It¡¯s been a long, long time since I was ever at the low stages,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®If I wanted to guide you through the precise steps, I would have already. But the Arcara you have is a only fraction of my old power. My advice is free, but I can¡¯t give you the direct guidance you need.¡¯ That was, sadly, the response Vayra expected. For a moment, she wanted to be upset¡ªif there was anyone who could teach her, it would be Phason¨¦¡ªbut she also didn¡¯t want her instructor constantly inside her mind. ¡°It would be wise to bring her back to Thronehome,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°The Gray Council has been preparing elixirs and pills for her, and she is welcome to choose any of the Elders for her teacher.¡± There was no other option, then. She shut her eyes, then sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll return. The Harmony should be waiting south along the shore, by the bayou. We can be back to Thronehome in a¡­a little while.¡± She didn¡¯t know how long the journey would take, and she felt her cheeks heating up at the thought. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled,¡± Commander Kochrann said. He pointed at the galactic map at the center of the table with a thin baton, and gingerly tapped a spiral arm on the far eastern side. ¡°It will be a few weeks.¡± Vayra nodded, then stepped back from the table. ¡°Thank you.¡± The council returned to their discussions¡ªwhere to move soldiers, where the next effort from the Elderworlds would likely be, and other administrative tasks that Vayra knew she had no business interfering with. She walked back out of the hall. As she headed towards the entrance, she heard footfalls behind her, and she turned to look. It was Elder Gheita. ¡°One day, you will not have to turn to know who is coming behind you,¡± Gheita said. ¡°You will be able to sense their spirit.¡± ¡°Seems a little unlikely, sometimes.¡± Gheita chuckled. ¡°All Mediators encounter troubles. You are no different. But if you gave up, you would be.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t know what to say, so she kept silent as she walked. ¡°I will accompany you to Thronehome, if you would like,¡± said Gheita. ¡°All the other Elders will be awaiting your arrival.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t complain.¡± Vayra turned sideways to slip between the guards at the hall¡¯s front terrace, then jogged down the stairs. ¡°We should get going as soon as possible, though.¡± Chapter 5: To Thronehome [Volume 2] The Harmony was anchored a league offshore, at a safe distance from the fighting. It had been close enough to the bayou to give Vayra a quick escape, if she had needed, but plans had gone sideways and there was no way of communicating. Plenty of the crew would be annoyed that they missed the battle. Vayra, Elder Gheita, and a pair of Redmarines rowed out towards their ship on a small longboat. It bumped against the Harmony¡¯s pale wooden hull, coming to a rest just beneath the ladder. Vayra let the marines lead, then followed close behind them. The ship was beautiful. Every gun port was carved ornately, and the railings were each a sculpture. Even the rungs of the ship¡¯s ladder were decorated with lines of gold filament. She was almost glad the galleon hadn¡¯t gotten anywhere close to the battle¡ªfor a moment. But ships weren¡¯t just meant for display, and she had one of the fastest in the galaxy. It would be a shame if she didn¡¯t use it. It was time to head¡­home, she tried, but the word sounded odd in her head. She climbed up to the ship¡¯s main deck and navigated around the crew. Most of them turned to look at her, even the extra marines who patrolled the deck¡ªwho were usually stoic. They probably wanted news about the battle. She climbed up to the quarterdeck, where she spotted Captain Pels and the navigators, who stood at a short table behind the wheel hub. ¡°Vayra?¡± Pels exclaimed. ¡°Back, finally? We thought the God-heir might actually have gotten you!¡± She tried to smile, but it was hard. It wasn¡¯t too far from what had happened. She told him, ¡°There was a battle. On the ground. I took out Nalla, then tried to help out. They¡­they burned Leansfield.¡± ¡°Of course they did.¡± Pels shook his head, grumbling to himself. ¡°Alright, then. Seeing as you¡¯re back, I take it you were assigned some place else, and need a ride?¡± She chuckled. ¡°A ride? I¡­I am supposed to command this ship, you know.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m the captain.¡± He smirked, then stepped away from the table and walked to the wheel hub. ¡°Maybe when you reach your Commodore stage, I¡¯ll let you steer. So, where are we heading?¡± ¡°Thronehome,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be¡­training.¡± ¡°Aye, and that¡¯s a good thing, too. I¡¯ll see if we can¡¯t get you there ahead of schedule.¡± The Harmony set sail immediately. The ship prowled towards the Stream, slowly picking up speed. As soon as its prow brushed into the iridescent water and the ocean began to slope upwards, it picked up speed. Once they had ascended a mile or two above the surface, they switched to gossamyr sails and caught the arcane winds. By the time they reached the upper atmosphere, Vayra emerged from the infirmary, newly patched-up by the ship¡¯s surgeon, Mr. Spawlding. She looked back at Ramesworld, now a blue, cloud-shrouded orb behind them. The Harmony dropped its Streamrunning fins, and the stars whipped into a blur. The planet disappeared behind them. Once the sailors settled down and the deck cleared¡ªthere was no need for as much crew to maintain the ship while they were on the Stream¡ªVayra settled down near the bow, on the almost empty forecastle. She sat cross-legged behind the very front railing, Stream water misting over her head and shoulders. ¡°Aright, Phason¨¦,¡± she whispered. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few weeks. Let¡¯s try this again.¡± ¡®I¡¯m ready.¡¯ ¡°But¡­what do we need to do during the Quartermaster stage? It¡¯s still¡­iffy.¡± ¡®You¡¯re supposed to be pushing your Arcara out through your channels into your bones and muscles, setting the groundwork for the true enhancement of your body when you climb to Master¡¯s Mate. You can¡¯t build a house without a foundation, and the enhanced body needs your flesh to be made ready.¡¯ ¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t know how to get any of it out of my channels. When I cycle it, I just make more. We¡¯re purifying more and more mana every day, and soon, our core will have to advance¡­¡± ¡®Even when you haven¡¯t laid a single brick of foundation¡­¡¯ ¡°Should I stop cycling?¡± ¡®I wish I had the answers for you, Vayra, but¡­God-heirs, we pass through Quartermaster and the low stages when we¡¯re very, very young. For those of us who have ascended to become true Gods, it has been centuries since we had to do your kind of advancement.¡¯ This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Vayra tilted her head and caught her breath, interrupting her cycling pattern. ¡°How long¡ªno, how old are you?¡± ¡®I¡¯ve been in the realm of Gods for over eighty years. Before that¡­I spent four, five centuries as a God-heir, climbing the ranks and eventually, waiting for the godhood of my starlight Path to be passed to me.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. She hadn¡¯t taken Phason¨¦ to be so old. The Goddess certainly didn¡¯t behave like a five-century-old Immortal. ¡®Now, I can still hear your thoughts¡­¡¯ ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯d rather you have a personality, rather than ¡®stuck-up old elder¡¯.¡± Vayra chuckled. ¡°Well, maybe you have the stuck-up part down, but not the old and wise and emotionless mentor part.¡± ¡®Most God-heirs and Immortals, despite their age, aren¡¯t as wise as you¡¯d think,¡± said Phason¨¦. ¡®We spend so much time in trance-like states, meditating in cycling chambers and bathing in Stream water and absorbing spirit energy. Just to absorb vast amounts of mana and advance to the higher realms.¡¯ The Goddess paused. ¡®We¡¯re climbing an endless mountain. That mountain, nature itself, chose you to keep us from abusing those who couldn¡¯t climb.¡¯ ¡°I hope¡­I don¡¯t have to take so long,¡± Vayra said. ¡°We can¡¯t take that long, if we want to face Karmion before he destroys Velaydia.¡± ¡®It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re the Mediator, then. If you couldn¡¯t advance quickly, then what would be the purpose of your existence?¡¯ Phason¨¦ sighed, her exhale rattling around Vayra¡¯s mind softly. ¡®The Mediator Form, when you can hold it for long periods of time, will help you do more than just punch above your weight. It will give you the means to ascend quickly. And to hold it for longer, I figure we¡¯ll have to push through this bottleneck.¡¯ Vayra nodded. She stayed silent for a little while, and so did Phason¨¦, until, after a few minutes, Vayra decided that she should keep trying to push her Arcara out of her channels. She spent the rest of the day trying to get the Arcara to spread out and reach a little further away from the channels it ran along. If her mind and imagination was her best tool for Arcara manipulation, then it would only be natural that she could push it outward with her mind. Problem was, she didn¡¯t know what to imagine, nor the proper breathing technique to pair it with. By the time the evening bell rang, she had made no progress. ¡®Don¡¯t push it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Your core is¡­halfway to advancing, maybe more. The more you cycle, the closer we get.¡¯ The next day, Vayra wandered the ship, helping with tasks and trying not to think about anything. It could wait until they arrived at Thronehome. Even though she kept herself busy, it didn¡¯t make her feel any less guilty that she wasn¡¯t trying, so halfway through the day, she tried isolating her Arcara just in her chest and experimenting with how she could manipulate it. The stubborn, white lightning that she envisioned in her mind refused to leave its channels. Her first self-assigned task was helping the cooper fix some of the barrels. The Harmony was still being refitted to modern navy standards, and its cargo hold wasn¡¯t as tight or sectioned-off as a modern warship. The cargo barrels still rolled around, especially when they sailed on the Stream, and some had started to leak, scattering their contents all across the hold. The last thing they needed was an infestation of mice. While she helped with the barrels, Vayra also noted the ship¡¯s cat, a young tabby who watched them from the shadows. A few times, Vayra tried clicking her tongue to see if she could convince it to come over, but it only watched with its curious green eyes. ¡®I¡¯m sure, if you wanted, you could find an actual sacred beast to have as a pet,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®Not a mangy bilge hairball.¡¯ ¡°Not a cat person?¡± ¡®More of a Odalusian Peacock woman myself.¡¯ ¡°Figured you¡¯d love something super exotic and rare¡­¡± They both shared a chuckle (and earned a concerned glance from Mr. Baravi, the cooper), then got back to work. In the evening, while she ate, Vayra helped the armourer and his crew repair some muskets. They had set up a small forge on the main deck, and while the gunsmith was responsible for fashioning new parts, everyone else helped in some way. Vayra watched for sparks and made sure the deck didn¡¯t catch on fire. ¡°I heard there was a battle, sis,¡± came a voice from over her shoulder. She glanced back for a moment, and spotted Bremi. He wore a pristine yellow coat, now, and a straw hat with a wide brim. He was a midshipman, now. Clean, well-fed, and professional. ¡°And I hope you took out the God-heir.¡± ¡°Sorry you missed it¡­¡± she said, looking forward again. ¡°More than happy to be your getaway drivers¡ª¡± He cut himself off, then cleared his throat. ¡°Sorry, gotta cut down on the undercity slang.¡± He leaned closer and whispered, ¡°Most of the other midshipmen are from important kinships. Some of them even have fair spirit potential.¡± Vayra snorted, then said, ¡°Looks like you¡¯re fitting in just fine.¡± ¡°I do hope so!¡± She smiled, then patted him on the shoulder. He¡¯d grown taller than her, now, but he was still lanky as ever, and he¡¯d always be her little brother. ¡°So, getting back to Thronehome, huh?¡± Bremi asked. He nudged her playfully. ¡°Gonna meet up with Mr. Glade¡ªor, um, Mr. Charl?¡± ¡°If he¡¯s at the Order of Balance temple, then I¡­might cross his path,¡± she said, silently hoping that she would see more than just a glimpse of him now and again. ¡°Cross his path?¡± Bremi rolled his eyes. ¡°Oh, come on. You and him were alone for a good long while. Hell, if the stories you told me were true, you two were alone for a few weeks in a tiny little ship¡­you can¡¯t convince me you two didn¡¯t have a little kiss now and then¡­¡± Vayra snorted. ¡°What¡­what kind of things are the other officers filling your head with?¡± She couldn¡¯t ignore the rising heat in her cheeks. ¡°Hah, so it is real! Sis has a crush, sis has¡ª¡± ¡°Shush, or I¡¯ll hang you off the bowsprit when we get to Thronehome. Glade is a friend, and I¡¯m happy to be able to see him again.¡± ¡°Whatever you say¡­¡± Sighing, Vayra walked around to the other side of the makeshift forge. But, though she protested, she had to admit, out of all the things she dreaded about Thronehome, Glade wasn¡¯t one of them. Chapter 6: Larins Moth [Volume 2] Myrrir arrived at Larin VI late in the evening. As the Hyovao sailed down the Stream, he basked in the glow of the sun setting behind the world¡¯s vast clouds¡ªand the hazy outline of the ringed gas giant it orbited around. The first thing he needed was a plan. He took stock of their situation: they had a ship, and it was fast, but no faster than the Harmony, a crew, and some remaining influence¡ªfor a few more months, until word spread about his fall from his father¡¯s grace. Father had said that the Mediator was on Ramesworld, but from the Tarrebian to there would take weeks. It didn¡¯t take a genius to know that she would repel the siege and move on before he arrived. Nalla was in charge of Karmion¡¯s armies, and the woman would get herself killed at Vayra¡¯s hands in a flash. Myrrir would be chasing a shadow. He could expect Vayra to move on from Ramesworld, that much was certain. Folding his hands behind his back, he marched down from the quarterdeck and approached Tye. ¡°It would be logical for the Mediator to head to Thronehome once her mission is complete, wouldn¡¯t it? She could claim the full support of the Order.¡± Tye stood just in front of the junk¡¯s tiller, watching the sea ahead of them. TheStream curved gently towards the moon¡¯s jungly surface, mixing with the small oceans to the north. The man glanced back for a moment, then stroked his chin. ¡°Yes, I find it logical. But we won¡¯t be able to sail into the Thronehome harbour. They don¡¯t take kindly to pirates, and they would hunt us tirelessly. They might send the Mediator after us, and she grows stronger by the second.¡± ¡°I figure, given how she behaved, she¡¯s the type of person who will stall at Quartermaster for a while. We have time, and even if she does advance, we will too.¡± ¡°An valuable observation,¡± Tye said. ¡°But the point remains: we would not last long in Thronehome, nor in Velaydian space at all.¡± He paused, then added, ¡°I figure that¡¯s why we¡¯re here, correct?¡± ¡°We can work with a bounty hunter,¡± said Myrrir. ¡°We¡¯ll give them some clues, offer some extra compensation, anything to send them scrambling off to Thronehome. We need to scare the Mediator into action again, get her moving.¡± Tye¡¯s face scrunched into a knot. ¡°You think you could scare her off Thronehome¡ªperhaps the safest place in the galaxy for her?¡± ¡°If she gets attacked in the safest place in the galaxy? She¡¯ll want to keep moving, if it¡¯s the only way to ensure her safety. Then we¡¯ll snap her up.¡± ¡°The bounty hunter will be seeking to capture Vayra as well.¡± Tye¡¯s face was still twisted, completely unconvinced. ¡°There is a high chance you are betrayed. ¡°But the bounty hunter will still take her off Thronehome¡­if we are betrayed, then we will act in our best interests.¡± ¡°If you command it, then it will be done.¡± ¡°I just need you to get us into the port. I¡¯ll do the rest.¡± ¡°Yes, Myrrir.¡± Myrrir marched down from the quarterdeck and ran to the junk¡¯s bow. Larin VI was an almost-uninhabited, planet-sized moon in the Tarrebian, but its single city was home to a great many pubs and taverns, and for hundreds of years, it had been a haven for bounty hunters and other scoundrels. Nestled into the forest, a village lined the coast. It was built mostly of wood, but the walls were daubed, making some of the structures look sturdier than they were. The windows began to flicker with orange candlelight and the busy streets settled for the evening¡ªonly to come alive a half-hour later with nightlife. The Hyovao approached the harbour as the nightlife began to gather in the streets. By the time they had the ship tied up at an empty pier, the taverns had opened and patrons streamed into them. Myrrir glanced over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll be back before the evening¡¯s over,¡± he told a sailor who watched him curiously. Then, he vaulted over the railing and landed firmly on the dock. Keeping a hand on his sword¡¯s hilt, he walked into the city. Every tavern was filled to the brim with heads, and he didn¡¯t know where to start. He figured that at the lower end pubs, he¡¯d find someone desperate enough to accept a mission on Thronehome, but he also doubted that a desperate bounty hunter would be skilled enough to strike the fear he needed. There was one establishment, a tavern at the center of the city, where the outcasts hid. It was filled with people who were exiled from the bounty hunting coalitions, or so insane that even their comrades didn¡¯t want to spend time around them. Stolen novel; please report. Myrrir walked down the central, cobblestone street, weaving between evening crowds and drunkards. He kept his head high, looking for the right sign. Nestled into a corner, just beside an alley, was the Hand of Grog tavern. An unassuming sight, its walls were made of pale, plaster-covered wood, and its roof was an overturned, hollowed-out ship¡¯s hull. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Immediately, he inhaled a breath of alcohol fumes, cigar smoke¡­and blood. He switched to a cycling technique more appropriate for combat¡ªfast breaths¡ªand with the help of his mind, his Arcara began to vibrate. The gunpowder in his hip flask begged to be used. Clinging to the edge of the tavern, Myrrir slipped into a dark corner and watched. The entire first floor was filled with tables. He could barely see across it¡ªthe whirling smoke was too thick¡ªbut he could make out humanoid shapes of all kinds. Not many of them bowed to the restrictions of modern fashion; most wore metallic armour of some sort, and he only spotted a few tricorn hats. He¡¯d only been to this planet once. It had been many decades ago, and he had travelled with his father. The memory grated on him like a sore, but he shook his head, pushing it away. A pistol cracked, and someone hollered cheerfully. The crowd¡¯s roar nearly drowned out a minstrel in the center of the room¡ªa man with fox ears, strumming aggressively on a fiddle. ¡°Can I get y¡¯anything, sir?¡± someone asked Myrrir. He turned his head to the left. An employee of the tavern; an elven woman in plain clothing. ¡°That¡¯s alright. I¡¯m hunting for a client.¡± ¡°Actually, it ain¡¯t. You¡¯re just taking up space if y¡¯ain¡¯t drinkin¡¯.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pay whoever I pick well. I¡¯m sure plenty of that money will return to you.¡± The comment seemed to pacify the employee for the moment. She scoffed, then turned away. As soon as Myrrir turned his attention back to the crowd, he felt a stir in the back of his neck. His spine began to tingle. Another God-heir was here. Did they have the same idea as him? He pushed away from the wall, hunting for the person causing the spiritual disturbance. He dipped between tables, feeling for a harsher tingle or a softer tingle as he walked. When the feeling changed, he altered course accordingly. At the other side of the tavern, he found her. Five people sat around a table, throwing playing cards into a pile while sipping hard liqueurs and smoking cigars. He didn¡¯t need to guess who the God-heir was; she sat alone on one side of the table, holding her cards with an array of magically-suspended wood chips rather than her hands. She was a mothfolk. She watched Myrrir with empty black eyes, and her feathery antennae twitched. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of him, but quickly turned her gaze back to her cards. After a second of fidgeting with the collar of white fur around her neck, she plucked a card and threw it down on the pile. Myrrir approached the edge of the table. He almost asked to be dealt into the game, but that was more tact that he figured he had available. ¡°God-heir,¡± he said, placing a hand on the table. ¡°What is your purpose here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a hunter,¡± she said, not looking up from her cards. Myrrir married his eyebrows. Not competition, then? ¡°Are you available for hire?¡± Every head at the table turned towards him. Finally, the mothfolk tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear and said, ¡°Depends on how much you can pay me.¡± ¡°Eight hundred Elderworld quivres.¡± She chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll throw in fifty-or-so slightly-used bluecoat muskets, and the rest of their uniforms¡ªbloodstained, a little¡ªif you¡¯d like.¡± After Father had banished him, Myrrir had disposed of the bluecoats who had been assigned to the Hyovao. Perhaps they would remain loyal, and perhaps they wouldn¡¯t. Myrrir didn¡¯t need to find out the hard way. ¡°You¡¯re insane, giving that much to any bounty hunter,¡± the mothfolk said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ¡°That¡¯s double the highest bounty on the market.¡± ¡°Do you want it or not?¡± ¡°Everybody, leave us,¡± the mothfolk said. The others at the table pushed their chairs back and stood up, then dispersed around the room. As soon as they were gone, she flicked her hand outward, scattering her hovering wood chips and dropping the cards face-up. ¡°Would¡¯ve been a Straight Harlworth. Shame.¡± ¡°Your name, God-heir?¡± ¡°Wren Lee. I¡¯ll settle for Wren.¡± She crossed her arms, rumpling her tunic and leather cuirass. ¡°And I¡¯m not a God-heir.¡± ¡°Yet you have magic.¡± Myrrir took a seat on the opposite side of the table. He pushed aside a cup of violet whiskey, then added, ¡°Vallor¡¯s magic, I¡¯d say.¡± ¡°Not a God-heir.¡± Myrrir squinted, though he didn¡¯t press the topic. ¡°I could use someone like you. I have a job.¡± ¡°What job could a pirate princeling offer me that he couldn¡¯t do himself?¡± Of course she had recognized him. He hadn¡¯t taken efforts to keep himself obscure, after all. There was no point in dancing around it. ¡°I need you to head to Thronehome. There, you will find the Mediator¡ªweak and training. A God-heir would be best-suited for the task.¡± Surely, she¡¯d be strong enough to at least cause Vayra a fright. ¡°Call me God-heir one more time, and I¡¯ll give you the worst splinter you¡¯ve ever had.¡± ¡°What would you rather me call you, if not God-heir?¡± ¡°Wren Lee Victra, is my name. Like I said, I¡¯ll settle for Wren.¡± From the Victra Kinship. Myrrir didn¡¯t know them well, but he knew they were a powerful silk-weaving dynasty from the Elderworlds. As far as he knew, they had no God-heirs in their command, and¡­working as a bounty hunter, no less? Myrrir shut the thoughts down. He wasn¡¯t here to worry about the twisted tale of a bounty hunter. ¡°Well, Wren, will you take the job?¡± She sat silent for a moment, fiddling with a long strand of her hair. ¡°Fine, yeah, sure. I¡¯ll do it. Should be somewhat interesting.¡± She drew a weapon from her hip¡ªa carbine with an axehead fixed to its barrel. ¡°Gotta test this bad boy out, anyways.¡± ¡°I need her alive. Not with a gaping bullet wound in her chest, or poisoned by rusty steel.¡± ¡°You got it. No murder, and I can only maim if I don¡¯t poison her.¡± She ran one of her fingers along the axe¡¯s blade. ¡°So, half the gold now, half when I succeed?¡± ¡°That will do nicely.¡± Chapter 7: Thronehome [Volume 2] After three weeks of sailing, they arrived at Thronehome. Vayra made sure she was on the deck to catch the sight. She ran to the front railing of the quarterdeck, and when that didn¡¯t give a good enough view, she sprinted across the ship to the forecastle and leaned over the railing. A moment later, she heard footsteps behind her¡ªrunning towards her. She glanced back. Bremi again. ¡°I can¡¯t stay long,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯ve heard Thronehome is quite the sight.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re going to get in trouble¡­¡± she warned. ¡°I just came to see it with you.¡± He paused for a second, leaning over the railing as well. ¡°But¡­I better go.¡± Vayra smiled a little, then turned her head forward again. They approached the light side of Thronehome. It was an average planet, with only a few moons and a normal star. But its surface was covered in endless swaths of brown wood and marble¡ªlike Mascant, it was an ecumenopolis, and only small chuncks of the oceans were spared from the sprawl of the city. Clouds of city smoke wreathed the planet, and on the boundary between day and night, Vayra spotted vast formations of city lights flickering to life as the planet spun. Only one branch of the Stream reached down to Thronehome¡¯s surface, however. It shot towards the largest patch of ocean still open to the sky, carrying thousands of ships. The Harmony sailed in a downward windlane, flanked by a few other galleons and a much larger Velaydian warship with three decks of cannons. They slowed down as they got closer to the surface, conforming to the traffic around them and keeping the ship from burning up as it raced through the atmosphere. They passed through the highest layer of wispy clouds, and the atmosphere gathered around them. Vayra felt strong winds and smelled harsh city smells through her Streamrunning mask. A few minutes later, they passed through a layer of gathering smog. The clouds peeled away, revealing the planet¡¯s surface. Tall stone towers crowded together like fields of reeds, and wooden structures filled the gaps between. The surface¡ªor, at least, sea level¡ªwas still miles below, buried beneath thick networks of cobblestone bridges and walkways. Even during the day, light didn¡¯t reach the dark undercity, and colourful light seeped out from the cracks between the buildings. Once the spray of Stream water in front of the Harmony fell to a thin mist, Vayra ran back to the quarterdeck. She jumped up the stairs two at a time, until she reached the navigator¡¯s table, where a couple officers, Pels, and Gheita had gathered. ¡°How far into the city do we have to go?¡± Vayra asked Gheita. ¡°To reach the temple, I mean. Does Thronehome have fancy channels like Mascant does?¡± ¡°The temple is near the Stream, thankfully, along with all of the other administration buildings,¡± said Gheita. ¡°There are no canals on Thronehome¡ªit¡¯s expansion as an administrative center was incredibly rapid, and you will find that most of the infrastructure has been thrown together quite haphazardly.¡± Pels added, ¡°It can take a couple months to get from one side of Thronehome to the other, and you wouldn¡¯t want to try the voyage in the winter.¡± ¡°Where¡­where should we go?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°The Temple, I¡¯m assuming?¡± ¡°That would be a good start.¡± The Stream levelled out and deposited them on the normal, flat ocean. The sun was directly overhead, and it rippled on the calm ocean. Vayra shielded her eyes from the glare, trying to see the shoreline ahead. A steep cliff of buildings rose high out of the sea, stacked and packed on top of each other until they made a cliff thousands of feet tall. Some even leaned over the ocean, threatening to fall into the sea or crush the harbour. Thronehome¡¯s harbour extended as far as she could see from north to south. Piers clung to a harsh, cobblestone embankment, long enough to house multiple ships each. Gantry cranes reached over the ships¡¯ masts, lowering cargo and offloading supplies. Still, it didn¡¯t seem like the harbour was big enough. A near constant rotation of merchant vessels poured through the harbour¡ªno doubt to fuel the planet-sized city with all the supplies it needed. The navy docks, by comparison, were dead as a graveyard. Streamrunning warships laid at rest at piers, their crews lazily re-equipping them or performing maintenance. They arrived at a barge a mile offshore, where a pair of Redmarines and a dockmaster in a white coat climbed aboard. After a brief conversation with Pels and Gheita, the dockmaster motioned towards an empty pier, and said, ¡°I¡¯ll call up a carriage for the Mediator and her companions.¡± An hour later, the Harmony had settled down beside the pier, cushioned by sacks of straw and bound up by ropes. A gangway ran from the main deck to the pier. Vayra, Pels, and Gheita disembarked¡ªeveryone else, including Bremi, had maintenance that they needed to be doing or crew to keep in check. They promised that, by the time Vayra needed the ship again, it would be up to modern navy standards¡ªand they might even get an extra two or three teraknots while running the Stream. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. At the end of the pier, they met a black carriage, driven by an Order of Balance disciple and pulled by a pair of white stalions. The young man wore a black coat, and his hair was bleached white¡ªpermanently. He jumped off the driver¡¯s seat and bowed deeply, then said, ¡°Elder Gheita, and Mediator Vayra. It is an honour to meet you.¡± Gheita opened the carriage¡¯s door for Vayra and Pels. Once the three of them were seated inside, she tried to tell the disciple, ¡°To the Temple, please.¡± ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, honoured Elder, but the King has requested the presence of the Mediator, and we would be very rude to not comply.¡± ¡°If King Tallerion requests it¡­¡± Gheita said. ¡°The King?¡± Vayra breathed. Pels sarcastically. ¡°You know, head of state, moderator of the Parliament, and¡ª¡± ¡°I know who the King is,¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d¡­ever be in his presence. Let alone¡­be requested by him.¡± ¡®You¡¯re going to be requested by quite a few people in the coming years, I figure,¡± Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®For meetings, bureaucracy, mindless tedium, and more. And you can¡¯t even fall into a cycling trance to ignore it all.¡¯ ¡°I just hope he¡¯s got some proper sweets,¡± Pels muttered, leaning back in his seat and placing his hands behind his head. ¡°I¡¯m tired of ship food.¡± The carriage began to rumble away, trundling along a road. It snaked away from the wharf and rose through the undercity. Colourful lanterns whipped past the windows, and the melange of scents from the nearby markets seeped through the windows. Painted billboards reflected neon light, demanding that they purchase goods from the nearby shops or sleep in the inns. Buildings stacked upon buildings stacked upon buildings¡­ When she¡¯d visited Mascant, the scale of a city-world had never dawned on her. Now, it was almost too much to fathom. Finally, the carriage reached the surface. It rolled along a raised road, surrounded by the rounded peaks of only the tallest buildings. Otherwise, she could only see a flat plain of shingled rooftops, broken up by the occasional open plaza or taller spire. On the horizon, she spotted a distant complex of taller towers, which they headed towards. Gheita tapped her shoulder, then pointed at the towers, through the front window of the carriage. ¡°That is the Main Parliament District, where most galactic¡ªor, Velaydian¡ªadministration takes place. Where we are heading.¡± In an hour and a half, the carriage entered the district. There were no walls, but everything seemed a little cleaner, and of course, the towers began to grow taller again. Soon, the carriage rolled through a valley of elegant spires. Each was covered in windows and wood siding, but they had stone frames. They had to have thousands of rooms. King Tallerion¡¯s palace was a short, stubby building at the center of an expansive garden. It was off along the western edge of the district, surrounded by taller buildings and much more ostentatious towers. No one had tried to make it the center of attention. The palace grounds were surrounded by a simple wall, maybe only thrice the height of a man, and the garden beyond hung at the same level as the road¡ªstill perhaps a thousand feet above the surface. They approached the gate, and a trio of guards¡ªred-coated soldiers with tall, shako caps and embroidered sashes¡ªapproached. No matter who the disciple said they were, they gave the carriage a thorough inspection. Once they were satisfied, they motioned for the carriage to continue onwards. The disciple snapped the reins and the carriage continued on through the gate. The palace, at the center of the gardens, was a rectangular, marble structure, surrounded by pillars and tall, thin trees. The carriage approached the front terrace, then paused on the flagstone loop in front of the building. ¡°The royal family¡¯s old winter palace,¡± Pels said. ¡°Now, their only palace.¡± Vayra nodded slowly, then glanced at Gheita. ¡°Are we supposed to go insi¡ª¡± Before she could finish speaking, a high-pitched horn blasted. An entourage of guards ran out the front doors and lined up along the terrace, resting their muskets on their shoulders. A moment later, a lone man stepped out of the palace¡¯s doors, weaving between the guards and stepping to the front of the terrace. Everything about him¡ªhis size, his build, his face¡ªseemed average, and if it hadn¡¯t been for the crown nestled into his gray hair, Vayra doubted she would have called him a king. A spotted fur shawl hung around his shoulders, and he wore a yellow coat with a few military awards pinned to its breast. ¡°You,¡± Pels said, ¡°should go out and meet him.¡± ¡°Pels and I were not the ones requested,¡± Gheita added, ¡°We will wait in the carriage.¡± Vayra pushed the carriage¡¯s door open and stepped out onto the flagstones. She wasn¡¯t sure whether she should bow right away, or whether she should approach the king, or what was expected of her. She glanced over her shoulder, debating whether she should ask Gheita or Pels what to do. But that wouldn¡¯t look great, either. ¡®Just be normal!¡¯ Phason¨¦ scolded. ¡®The king couldn¡¯t hurt you if he tried.¡¯ Vayra thought too much about trying to be normal. Instead, she ended up walking rather awkwardly towards the terrace, then knelt right in front of the first marble step. ¡®Good enough¡­¡¯ One of the guards stepped forward, puffing out his chest like he was a herald. ¡°I present: Tallerion III, King of Velaydia and rightful ruler of the galaxy, overseer of the Order of Balance, and Protector of the Remains.¡± Vayra glanced side to side. Should she introduce herself, or¡ª Before she could say anything, King Tallerion stepped forwards, marching down the steps. He paused a few feet in front of her, then said, ¡°You are the Mediator, I hope?¡± Vayra looked up. She could only muster a nod. ¡°It is an honour to meet you. We have much to discuss¡­¡± Chapter 8: King Tallerion [Volume 2] King Tallerion looked back at his guards, then dismissed them with a wave. ¡°Please, leave us. If she turned on me, there would be little you could do¡ªand I¡¯m certain her presence alone is greater protection than what you can offer.¡± The guards all bowed respectfully, then marched back to the edge of the terrace. When they stopped, they all stomped, their boots clacking against the marble. ¡°If you are willing, Mediator, I would appreciate it if you walked with me.¡± He stepped down to her level, then tapped her shoulder and whispered, ¡°You can stand. I won¡¯t execute you for a mild breach of decorum¡ªthough, from what I¡¯ve heard, it wouldn¡¯t be right of me to expect that you know the customs.¡± ¡°Uh¡­thank you, your majesty.¡± Vayra stood up, brushing off her pants. ¡°Good¡­morning? Afternoon?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just past noon.¡± He began to walk towards the garden, and he motioned with his hand for her to follow. She wasn¡¯t sure how old he was, but he had to be in his fifties. He moved faster than she had expected, but she kept pace with him easily. ¡°Your majesty, would it be wrong to¡­ask why I¡¯m here?¡± Vayra inquired once she caught up with him. The garden was surrounded by a wall of hedges. Inside, it was a maze of decorative ponds, fountains, and beds of exotic flowers and pots. A paved walkway wound through it. As soon as they took a few steps into the garden, King Tallerion said, ¡°I am sorry to summon you on such short notice, but¡­you are currently the most powerful person in the galaxy.¡± ¡°Currently?¡± King Tallerion exhaled sharply. ¡°I should rephrase. You will become the most powerful person. You¡¯re¡­a very important person to us. And, I hate to be so blunt about it, but I¡¯m not entirely sure where your loyalties lie.¡± Vayra stopped walking. Her mouth fell open for a second, but the king kept walking. After a second, she ran to catch up. ¡°My loyalties?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She didn¡¯t know how to respond. For a few moments, they walked through the garden, their boots crunching on the loose stones scattered across the path. Finally, Vayra said, ¡°Sir¡ªor, your majesty¡ªI was born in Velaydia.¡± ¡°Though my briefings were brief, they detailed where you came from.¡± He paused in front of a fountain that shot out a spout of Stream water. ¡°I am not blind to the plights of people like you¡ªyou were a Discarded, correct?¡± ¡°Well, yes, but¡­I don¡¯t hate the Kingdom for it.¡± She tried leaning on a statue, but it wobbled precariously. She let out a soft yelp, then stepped away. ¡°I¡¯m here to defeat Karmion, and do my duty as Mediator. I want this war to end.¡± The King began to walk again. ¡°Forgive me, then,¡± he said. ¡°I am tired, and it isn¡¯t the kind of tiredness that sleep can fix. I fought in many battles when I was a prince, second to the throne, without a care in the world, and I can feel it catching up to me. Not today, not tomorrow, but in a few years¡­and I don¡¯t want the galaxy¡¯s memory of me to be the man who placed his trust in the wrong people.¡± Vayra¡¯s face softened. ¡°I¡¯ve got no ill will against you, sir.¡± ¡°I suppose you have no love for us, either?¡± She hesitated, debating on how to answer. She decided that honesty was the best path. ¡°No, I can¡¯t say that I do.¡± ¡®Our commitment is balance,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®The Mediator shouldn¡¯t have allegiances to Velaydia or the Elderworlds. Our job is to make sure the God-heirs aren¡¯t able to push their influence beyond limits.¡¯ Vayra repeated to the king what Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I spent the better part of a decade as a military commander, fighting to maintain the Line of Battle against Karmion¡¯s relentless attacks,¡± the king said. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that everything we¡¯ve fought to save will be swept away in the coming years. Karmion is preparing for a push. What happens when he grows impatient, and comes to raze the battlefield with his immense power? What happens if he starts sweeping the table? He has God-heirs devoted to him, who he could turn into Ko-Ganall¡ªunleashing terror all across the galaxy. Will you come to our aid then?¡± Vayra bit her lip, then tilted her head. There had to be a reason Karmion hadn¡¯t attacked yet, not personally. ¡®There are few who know the terrifying, true power of the Gods anymore,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You didn¡¯t, until you became the Mediator.¡¯ Vayra hadn¡¯t¡­ ¡®I know.¡¯ The Goddess paused, then explained, ¡®Karmion wants people to love him¡ªhe might be able to rule the galaxy with a heavy hand, washing away dissidents with the swish of a finger, but what¡¯s the purpose of building a galaxy-spanning empire if you can¡¯t convince the people you rule to love you? At least, that¡¯s what he always said.¡¯ This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Vayra told the King, ¡°The best way I can help you is to defeat God-heirs who fight for Karmion. When the time comes, when I¡¯m strong enough, I¡¯ll defeat him.¡± ¡°Then it seems our interests are aligned,¡± King Tallerion said. ¡°You are here to train with the Order of Balance, correct?¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°May I suggest an instructor?¡± ¡°You can.¡± ¡°I was once great friends with Elder Olrannd, before I took the throne,¡± King Tallerion said. ¡°She is an elf, skilled in many forms of combat, and I believe she has managed a second ascension.¡± ¡°An¡­ascension?¡± Vayra asked. Was there a God-heir currently working with the Order of Balance? ¡®With dedication and continual effort, a being with a Fair Spirit Potential may pass through a stage of magic or two before they die,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Most creatures have no Spirit Potential, and some (and mostly magical races) have Fair Spirit Potential¡ªthey can¡¯t cultivate Arcara well, but they can a little. God-heirs, and us, have Rife Spirit Potential.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. ¡®Most members of the Order have Fair Spirits.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll definitely consider your advice, sir,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Do you happen to know which Elder is most knowledgeable in Arcara cycling techniques?¡± Not that she didn¡¯t want to learn from one of the most skilled elders, but she had a bottleneck to push through. ¡°That would be Elder Yaryn,¡± he told her. ¡°He is an expert at Arcara formations and movements.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°And, Mediator,¡± he said. ¡°The Order may not tell you about him, but if nothing works, you may wish to inquire about Nathariel Hayden Layre.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Mr. Layre is an ally, though the Order and him have vastly different methods. But he is powerful, and he may be able to help you. And he hates God-heirs.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll remember the name.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all, then,¡± the King said. ¡°You are dismissed, and you may leave whenever you please.¡± He chuckled softly to himself. ¡°As though someone like me could stop you if I wanted to¡­¡± He stopped, and turned to face her with a somber expression. ¡°Thank you,¡± Vayra told him, hoping it might raise his spirits a little. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to learn.¡± The Order of Balance Temple was located outside the administration district. It was an enormous cathedral-shaped structure that rose out of a vast, empty plaza. A promenade ran up to its entrance, flanked by enormous columns¡ªeach with a statue on top. Civilians milled about around the plaza, but there were no carriages, despite its size. Vayra, Gheita, Pels, and the disciple had to walk towards the temple on foot. Gheita pointed up at one of the Temple¡¯s upper wings, where an open-air garden waited. As they got closer, Vayra could faintly see the distant forms of people swinging weapons. ¡°That¡¯s where the majority of our martial training happens,¡± said Gheita. She pointed down to another wing of the temple. ¡°There¡¯s the library¡ªa shoddy alternative to the Mascant Archives, but it does its job.¡± ¡°Was the Temple always here?¡± Vayra asked. She looked over her shoulder, at the now-distant mountain of the administrative district. If the winter palace hadn¡¯t been the original¡­ ¡°It was once a small outpost, a millennium ago, when this world was still a colony,¡± Gheita explained. ¡°The Order set up many temples all across the galaxy, but this is the only one that remains, now.¡± As they approached the entrance, Vayra tilted her head up to look at the rose window above the gates. Its blocky, stained glass medium depicted the vague shape of a man in an Order of Balance coat. He held a sword ahead of him. They walked up the stairs in front of the temple, dodging a cluster of disciples who walked in the opposite direction. A few of them stopped and bowed to Gheita, but the others didn¡¯t seem to notice. Gheita chuckled, then whispered, ¡°They¡¯re only disciples, and none of them as formal as Glade.¡± Vayra rolled her lips inward, then, trying not to sound too eager, asked, ¡°Where would Glade be, right now?¡± ¡®Not too eager, huh?¡¯ Phason¨¦ teased. Her too? ¡®If I have to hear your thoughts, then I get to tease you about them.¡¯ ¡°Then I get to keep calling you Glitter Princess¡­¡± Vayra whispered. Elder Gheita cast her a worried look. Pels said, ¡°She does that from time to time. Has conversations with that starry Goddess in her head¡ªand when I phrase it like that, she sounds rather insane.¡± ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°Chances are, Glade will be training with the others,¡± Gheita said. ¡°He was growing quite skilled with his sparring. He went toe-to-toe with Elder Olrannd and almost won. Not to mention, he¡¯s getting close to managing to cycle Arcara, even if it¡¯s just a glimmer that his low Spirit Potential can manage.¡± Vayra nodded. She supposed that was a big step for someone with Fair Spirit Potential. They passed through the gate and entered the temple¡¯s main hall. It was airy and spacious, and its wings were lined with pillars. A loft ran around the edge of the hall, perhaps a hundred feet above the main floor, and hallways branched out from it. All around, Vayra spotted Order of Balance members going about their daily business. Each one of them carried a sword at their hip, and each one of them was¡­supposedly dedicated to helping her. She felt completely insignificant and helpless inside such a place. The help they could provide her wouldn¡¯t be enough to fix this issue. ¡°Elder Gheita?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it if we could find a teacher for me sooner than later.¡± Hopefully, that would help her push the feelings away, but she somehow doubted that. ¡°That way, we can get everything going as soon as possible.¡± ¡°Of course, Vayra.¡± They reached the end of the hall and passed a central statue, at least ten times the height of a human. At its feet was a pool of iridescent Stream water. Some of it flowed through miniature channels in the floor, racing towards the edge of the hall. As they passed the statue, a pair of red-faced, panting disciples dumped large pails of Stream water into the pool. A staircase spiralled around the statue, climbing towards the second level. Gheita set a foot on it, then looked back and said, ¡°We¡¯ll head to the sparring gardens, and you can search for a teacher there.¡± Chapter 9: Temple of Balance [Volume 2] The halls of the Order of Balance Temple were long and winding, and every ornate corridor seemed to have ten more branches, each with rooms that Vayra couldn¡¯t identify. She followed close behind Gheita, trying her best to keep up and not get distracted by the sights. After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at the training garden. They ducked out the main doorway and stepped into the sunlight. Vayra shielded her eyes from Thronehome¡¯s star; it was late afternoon now, and the yellow light filtered through the clouds, straight into her eyes. The entire garden complex was a field of manicured grass, cordoned off into sections by a grid of hedges. At every corner, a large tree provided the training disciples shade, and fragrant flowers provided a calming scent to the area. ¡°Most disciples should have an elder with them,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°I will set you loose here, so you may choose. While you are working, I will get your quarters prepared, and we¡¯ll send Pels up to the Gray Council.¡± Pels smirked at Vayra. ¡°Perhaps I can convince them to give us a few extra members to help us out of the Harmony, yeah? Might just be jollies, but at least they¡¯ll be able to fight. For when we get going again.¡± ¡°Might be a while,¡± Vayra said. ¡°But it¡¯s worth a shot.¡± A boardwalk ran through the gardens, passing between every training cubicle. Vayra glanced around. Most of them were occupied by a disciple and an elder. It was easy to tell which was which; aside from being much older, the Elders wore their full Order attire, while most of the hard-working disciples had cast aside their coats and cravats and shirts. They swung their swords so fast that she couldn¡¯t decide if it was the wind she heard, or if it was just metal through the air. They told her to find a master, but what she wanted was a guide. Someone who knew her personally, and who could recommend the best teacher for her needs. Of course, she kept the king¡¯s words in the back of her mind, too. ¡®Or, are you just looking for an excuse to meet¡­him?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Him?¡± she tried. ¡®Him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ asserted. Vayra could almost feel the Goddess tilting her head upwards, motioning to someone ahead of them. Vayra blinked a few times, then narrowed her eyes. She kept walking. When she got closer, she could make out the features of the man in the training patch ahead more clearly. Everyone had white hair, but none of them had the same rigid jaw and kind eyes as Glade. She approached his section of the garden, then leaned against the tree beside it and watched from behind. It didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d seen her approach. He swung a longsword over and over, forming complex patterns of flowing silver. Every time he set a foot down, it carried force and purpose, and every slash seemed to successfully eliminate an enemy. She imagined him cutting through hordes of bluecoats, batting aside their bayonets and cutting through their coats. ¡®Oh, look at those muscles, will you?¡¯ Phason¨¦ teased. ¡°Shut up,¡± Vayra whispered, keeping her voice as low as she could, so she didn¡¯t disturb him. It didn¡¯t stop her from blushing. ¡®Well, you came all this way. Are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to actually say something?¡¯ He was busy, and she could wait until he had a moment. ¡®Oh, by the Streamfather, you¡¯re hopeless¡­¡¯ At the edge of the little cubicle, an elder watched Glade, holding a sheet of parchment. He was a human as well, but he was quite old. He tapped the sheet of parchment with a quill and made a few markings on the page. Every few seconds, he would say a word in another language, a word Vayra didn¡¯t understand. Were they sword techniques? Finally, after a half hour, Glade stopped. His chest barely heaved, but he wiped sweat off his brow. He turned to the side to face the elder, still not looking towards her yet. For a few moments, he spoke with the elder, who congratulated him and patted him on the shoulder. With a faint smile, he sheathed the sword, then grabbed his tunic from the edge of the garden and put it on. As he began to wind his cumberbund around his waist, the elder told him, ¡°I believe there is someone to see you, disciple.¡± ¡°Pardon?¡± The elder tilted his head towards Vayra. Glade turned towards her slowly, keeping his gaze low¡ªshe supposed it was formal, but she didn¡¯t understand it. ¡°I¡¯m back,¡± she said, unsure how else to introduce herself. Jokingly, she added, ¡°But I¡¯ll find another mission to leave on if you keep up the formalities.¡± His head snapped up as soon as she began to speak. ¡°Vayra. It is a surprise to see you here.¡± He cleared his throat, then said, ¡°I mean, hello!¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Good work, Mr. Charl,¡± said the elder, then bowed out. ¡°I will leave you with the Mediator, unless she needs anything from me.¡± ¡°No, thank you,¡± Vayra told him. As soon as he marched away, she rushed forward and caught Glade in a hug. ¡°Good to see you¡¯re still here.¡± ¡°Where¡­where would I have gone? It has only been a month? Two?¡± ¡°Glad there¡¯s a familiar face here, that¡¯s all.¡± She released him, then stepped back. ¡°I¡¯ve been sent back here to train.¡± ¡°Please, I¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to ask you to train me again,¡± she told him softly. ¡°I was hoping you would be willing to introduce me to some of the elders. Maybe, you could help those who you think would be best suited to deal with¡­you know, me.¡± ¡®You mean your occasional stubborn-ness?¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. Yes. That. Before Glade could reply, Vayra added, ¡°Of course, as long as you aren¡¯t busy. I¡­must have scared off that other elder, or¡­¡± ¡°That was my last assessment for the day,¡± he said. ¡°Everything within the Order is rated, you see? Our skills in certain areas, our meagre progress towards using our spirits, and so on. I am close to being one of the top rated disciples.¡± He pulled on his black coat and tied a cravat around his neck, then said, ¡°It has earned me some leniency with my schedule, especially since Elder Miin is heading offworld.¡± ¡°Elder Miin?¡± ¡°They assigned me to him to complete my training,¡± Glade told her. She nodded. His old teacher, Elder Eman-Fa, had been killed a few months earlier. After a brief stint of silence, Glade said, ¡°In other words, yes. I would be honoured to introduce you to some of the other masters.¡± Once he had fixed his uniform, turning it from a dusty, rumpled mess to a somewhat respectable-looking coat, he pointed down the boardwalk. ¡°Most of the elders will be packing up for the day,¡± he said. ¡°But if we can catch them before then, we stand a chance of introducing you.¡± ¡°Oh, and, Glade?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± She bit her lip, unsure how to phrase her question. ¡°I¡¯d prefer it if I didn¡¯t have to displace another disciple. That¡¯d be¡­pretty damn awkward, and I¡¯d just feel bad about it.¡± ¡®Would you feel bad if you didn¡¯t get the proper training and got defeated by Karmion the moment you encountered him? Dooming everyone in the galaxy?¡¯ Vayra scowled. Well, no, she wouldn¡¯t want that, either. ¡®You¡¯re really starting to limit our options¡­¡¯ Glade began to walk along the path. As he travelled, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, ¡°The good news for you is that most Elders can¡ªand are willing¡ªto take more than one student. You would not have to displace anyone.¡± She felt a burst of sheepishness, which she pushed away and ignored. ¡°Ah¡­that, uh, makes sense.¡± For the rest of the afternoon, they wandered the gardens. Glade introduced her to many of the elders, and he personally suggested a few that he figured would be best at handling her abilities. Halfway through, she gathered a sheet of parchment and started scrawling their names down on it, so she didn¡¯t forget the best candidates. They stumbled across Elder Olrannd, who looked old but still quite spry. She talked to Vayra kindly, though she almost seemed too kind, and though her calloused hands looked like they had held a sword as long as they¡¯d been attached to her wrist, she didn¡¯t seem to have any immediate ideas on how to solve Vayra¡¯s bottleneck. Once they had briefly passed all of the elders in the garden, they headed back inside the temple. Vayra had inquired about Elder Yaryn, and so Glade took her through the hallways to the library, where Elder Yaryn supposedly spent most of his hours. The library was an enormous hall on the opposite side of the gardens. Its walls were lined with bookshelves, which required a complex system of ledges and walkways to reach. In the center, a chandelier hung, illuminating the room with hundreds of candles. It was so high up that the dripping wax had never been cleaned properly, so it looked like an acorn-shaped stalactite. Beneath the chandelier was a round desk, where the library¡¯s attendants waited. Most of them read a book of some sort with the help of a lantern. Vayra and Glade approached the desk. Glade gently rang a bell, then said, ¡°Elder Yaryn?¡± ¡°Yes, my boy? A human elder¡ªand truly, he was elderly¡ªlooked up from the book he was reading. ¡°Oh, how wonderful, Mr. Charl! You have the Mediator with you. Are you showing her around the temple? I thought young Gheita was meant to be doing that.¡± He stood up from his chair and walked closer. Then, he whispered, ¡°You didn¡¯t steal the Mediator from her, did you?¡± ¡°Quite the opposite, sir,¡± Glade said. ¡°She stole me away. You see, she is looking for a teacher who can help her overcome a¡­roadblock.¡± Vayra explained her problems with Arcara movement, and the now-imposed time limit. ¡°That is quite the predicament, dear,¡± Elder Yaryn said. ¡°Made worse by your ineffective cycling, I presume? You¡¯ve gathered Arcara, but you haven¡¯t pushed it where it¡¯s needed, and now you will need an incredibly efficient technique to fix it. If you are to lay the proper groundwork in time.¡± He tapped the desk with his bony fingers, then, as if he was suggesting something taboo, he hissed, ¡°You may need to create your own breathing technique.¡± ¡°That¡¯s beyond my scope of¡­knowledge,¡± Vayra said. ¡°She is a Discarded,¡± Glade told the Elder. ¡°She had no family to teach her a Path or a proper set of techniques.¡± ¡°That is truly a shame,¡± said Yaryn. ¡°I will do my best to gather the best knowledge this library has to offer for you, Mediator, but I¡¯m afraid the majority of my knowledge comes from books, not from practice.¡± Vayra sighed, then, as Yaryn turned away, she turned to Glade. ¡°Well¡­that about dries up my last lead.¡± She shut her eyes, remembering what the king had said about someone named Nathariel, but she wasn¡¯t sure if she could keep pestering people for today. Before they left for the day, however, Vayra pulled open her haversack. Among her supplies and a few other trinkets, she carried with her a book with a black cover. The word ¡®Godscourge¡¯ was written on its cover. She placed it down on the counter, then told Elder Yaryn, ¡°I¡¯ve had this with me for a while now, but I can¡¯t make sense of all of it¡ªit describes too many things I just don¡¯t know. Would you be willing to read it and see if there¡¯s anything that can help me, when it comes to my cycling techniques?¡± ¡°Of course, miss.¡± He took the book and gingerly flipped open its cover. ¡°It¡¯s almost¡­a vague Path Manual.¡± ¡°Almost,¡± she agreed, then stepped back. ¡°I will do my best.¡± ¡°We would be wise to rest,¡± said Glade. ¡°Elder Eman-Fa would never have let me hunt for something as important as this with a tired mind.¡± He must have seen her dejected face, because he added, ¡°He also said that, if you encountered a steep wall that you could not climb, the only way through was¡­to keep pushing, and hope that you eventually prevailed.¡± She exhaled sharply. ¡°Tomorrow, then. We¡¯ll keep working at it.¡± Chapter 10: A Faint Breeze... [Volume 2] When Vayra found Captain Pels and Elder Gheita again, she was expecting to be sent back to her quarters for the night. She wasn¡¯t expecting to be led back to a carriage outside the temple¡¯s plaza and led back to a distant apartment. According to Gheita, the Order had been recruiting many, many disciples lately, and there were no available rooms at the temple for Vayra. Which meant that now, she would be granted an apartment in the administration district with a dedicated chamber to meditate in. The apartment tower was at the edge of the administration district, usually reserved for Members of Parliament who didn¡¯t have a local residence¡ªat least, as long as parliament was in session. Since it was summer on Thronehome, it wasn¡¯t the parliament season, and all of the representatives were on their homeworlds. It left plenty of room for Vayra to occupy an apartment. The building itself was one of the taller ones. It was shaped like a wedge, with walls made of stone and glass, and a few decorative wooden panels. Its roof was curved gently. For her safety, a pair of Order of Balance guards were posted on the main floor of the apartment, to watch for intruders. She received a room near the top of a tower, with floor-to-ceiling windows and plain, wallpapered rooms. It had a view of the now-distant Order temple, but otherwise, it was incredibly plain and¡­empty. There was a small kitchen and a separate bedroom with a proper bed, and a single ventilation duct that let in outside air when a gust of wind buffeted the tower. She walked over to the windows and sighed. As she watched the horizon, the sun dipped below the buildings and disappeared, leaving a pale twilight haze in the sky. It was too late to worry about how empty her apartment felt. The sun set late in the summer, and she needed to sleep to be ready for tomorrow morning. She bid farewell to Gheita, Pels, and Glade, then a few minutes later, she slipped into the bed and fell asleep. The next day, she returned to the Order of Balance temple as fast as she could. When she arrived at the library, she met Elder Yaryn, who passed her a stack of books. He said, ¡°Here you go, Miss. These should serve you well. I will find you more, and I will search through your Godscourge book for anything I can find.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± She took the stack from his hands, and immediately, the weight of them almost toppled her over. ¡®Oh, if you have to be this weak for the rest of your life¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. ¡°I¡¯m working on it¡­¡± She hauled the books over to a distant corner of the library and set them all down on the table. ¡°Alright¡­we¡¯ve gotta start somewhere.¡± ¡®Put two books down and open them up,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I¡¯ll read one, and you read the other. We¡¯ll make this go twice as fast.¡¯ All throughout the morning, they read through the two books. Glade arrived about halfway through the day, reminding Vayra that she hadn¡¯t yet eaten. She took a break (about a quarter of the way through the first text¡ª¡¯Regarding Arcara Foundations in God-heirs¡¯) and joined him in the mess hall. The Order disciples ate a simple meal of steamed groats and salt pork, as well as a few limes and boiled carrots. ¡°Vegetables like this are quite rare on a city-planet,¡± Glade told her. ¡°You need food that keeps for a while. But the Order is afforded the best.¡± Vayra was just glad that they hadn¡¯t put on a fancy meal just for her¡ªthough, considering she was the only one not in an Order uniform, they had to know who she was. ¡°According to Elder Miin, the Order would have provided you with a near endless supply of spirit grains and rum for rations, but we haven¡¯t stocked those in ages. But they are dusting off the elixir cellar for you as we speak, and they are preparing a supply of pills to aid your spirit.¡± Vayra nodded. For the time being, she didn¡¯t need any help adding more Arcara to her body¡ªthat could come once she had a solution to this inability to prepare her body. After they ate, they parted. She returned to the library and spent the rest of the day reading. By the time the sun set, she and Phason¨¦ had both finished their books. Two down. Ten more to¡ª Yaryn heaped another pile onto the desk with a smile. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Twenty more to go. Vayra forced a smile, then said, ¡°Thanks.¡± She injected as much gratitude as she could into her voice. She returned to her apartment. On the way, she met with Elder Gheita and told the woman that, for now, she would study under Yaryn. At least, until she found a clue, or tried speaking to someone else. She kept the name Nathariel in the back of her mind. The ordeal continued over the next day, and the day after. Vayra and Phason¨¦ churned through another seven books, but she didn¡¯t read anything that would be helpful to her case. Cycling techniques, sure. Techniques for battle, for purifying mana, for gathering mana from Stream water faster. For specifically overcoming some sort of strategic roadblock at the Quartermaster stage? Nothing. On the third day, a disciple arrived, bearing a tray with a single cup of shimmering, turquoise liquid. When she drank it, she tried to imagine it diffusing through the walls of her stomach and filtering into her Arcara channels¡ªsupposedly, it would give her a temporary boost in focus, like she had just woken up from a long night¡¯s rest. By the time she felt it flowing up to her mind, it was already starting to work. Her reading pace doubled for a few hours. On the fourth day, she read a book which discussed the consumption of the flesh of sacred beasts. There were some meats that had a strengthening effect on the body, similar to the enhanced body received between Quartermaster and Master¡¯s Mate. For it to take effect, a similar technique would have to be applied to push it around the body and strengthen the muscles. Vayra was supposed to imagine little filaments reaching out from her Arcara channels; rather than just large veins, they were entire networks of magic streams. That night, she returned to her apartment feeling slightly less nervous about the future. She opened her apartment¡¯s door and stepped inside, but the remains of the adrenaline and excitement of finding something useful still aggravated her mind, and she doubted she¡¯d be able to sleep. The apartment¡¯s closet was stocked with the light, summer attire, and it was better than wearing her dirty, day-to-day clothes. She changed into a light, sleeveless gown, and took her bracers off. Once she was feeling a little more clean, she walked to the windows and stared out at the city again. It was late in the evening, and the sun had already set an hour ago. Lights glimmered all across the city, and in the distance, then Stream glowed faintly. Just barely, she could see ships sailing down it. After a few minutes of staring at the city, Phason¨¦ asked, ¡®Vayra, do you ever plan to ask them about this¡­Nathariel person?¡¯ ¡°If the books don¡¯t solve our problem, then¡­I¡¯ll talk to Gheita.¡± She spoke aloud; there was nobody around to overhear her conversation. ¡°Or Glade. But the King was being awfully cagey about it, and I¡¯d rather not step on anyone¡¯s toes.¡± ¡®Not step on anyone¡¯s toes?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®You need to learn how to be polite, properly. Velaydian style.¡¯ ¡°Velaydian style?¡± ¡®Don¡¯t say what you mean. Say what you need to get what you want. The Order might try to serve you, but they¡¯re a traditional bunch, and if you aren¡¯t careful, they¡¯ll stifle you with their old ways.¡¯ ¡°Well,¡± Vayra said, sighing. ¡°The good news is that we¡¯re making progress.¡± ¡®And so does a snail when it climbs a mountain. It will die before it reaches the first summit.¡¯ ¡°You have my word, Phas. If this doesn¡¯t work, we aren¡¯t giving up.¡± ¡®Phas? That¡¯s a new one.¡¯ ¡°Felt right, today.¡± The Goddess let out a snort, which sounded like a faint wind rattling around Vayra¡¯s head. Vayra took one last look out the window, then craned her neck and glanced down at the endless traffic of wagons and carriages on a road far below. The sight was somewhat hypnotizing. She shut the curtains, then walked to the kitchen. A jug of fresh water waited for her. She splashed some of it in her face, then drank a few sips. She realized she had been holding her breath while drinking for such a long while, and she began to pant afterwards. It made her Arcara cycle a little, and she winced. Never before had she thought cycling would be a bad thing, or that she would regret turning some of the breathing techniques into second nature. But here she was. She held her breath, restricting the pushing factor of her mana. The Arcara calmed down along with it. As soon as her spirit settled, she said, ¡°I¡¯m going to head off to sleep, now. You¡¯re welcome to do the same¡­¡± ¡®I¡¯ll just¡­pass out, in my little white inside-void.¡¯ Vayra walked to the bedroom and closed the door, then shut the curtains here as well. The orange glow of the city lights still seeped through the cracks, but it wasn¡¯t as bad as it would be without them. She settled down on the end of the bed, then flopped back on top of the sheets. For a few minutes, she laid still, but sleep didn¡¯t come as quickly as she had hoped. As soon as her eyelids closed, another noise or gust of wind outside the apartment roused her. A faint breeze seeped through the ventilation system, carrying with it the stench of the city. At first, it felt like a premonition. Something felt wrong, and she knew it, but she couldn¡¯t explain it. A sickness in her gut, then a weight dragging her back into the covers. A few minutes later, she felt a tingle in the back of her neck. It was the same kind of tingle she had felt around Myrrir¡ªand certainly not a good kind. A God-heir was nearby. She bolted upright in her bed and clenched her fists. ¡®You feel it too?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°Something¡¯s coming,¡± Vayra whispered. She slipped off the bed, then crept out of the bedroom. First, she slipped her starsteel bracers on, then pulled a pair of short breeches. She tucked her gown into them¡ªif she had to fight, she didn¡¯t need the fabric flapping around. She slipped her feet back into her boots, keeping her head high. A cold breeze whistled through the ventilation system, sprouting goosebumps on her shoulders and thighs. Before Phason¨¦ could utter a warning, the windows shattered. Chapter 11: Mothfolk [Volume 2] The windows imploded in an explosion of glass, throwing Vayra back along the floor. She came to a halt along the far wall, shards of glass and wood tearing into her skin. She blinked for a few seconds, trying to clear the daze. She scrambled to her feet, just in time to see a silhouette hovering just outside her apartment. It was humanoid, but it had fast-fluttering moth wings that stirred up such a gale that Vayra could barely push herself up. A¡­mothfolk? With effort, the mothfolk dropped herself down inside the apartment, landing in a crouch. The woman panted, as if the flight had cost her significant effort. There was no way she was friendly. Before the mothfolk could recover and do any more damage, Vayra sprung forwards. She drew in starlight from outside, then threw a blast at the woman. The mothfolk held up a hand and caught Vayra¡¯s palm. The starlight blasted against the woman¡¯s hand, and she slid back an inch or two. Her leather armour clattered, and her fluffy, moth wings folded behind her like a fur cloak. Vayra prepared another blast, but Phason¨¦ yelled, ¡®Watch out!¡¯ Two chunks of wood rose behind the mothfolk, one hovering behind each of her shoulders. One was as sharp as a stake. With a flick of her finger, the mothfolk sent it racing towards her. Vayra sidestepped, putting herself in the perfect position for the second chunk of wood, a blunt beam to swat her in the head. She fell onto her back, her second starlight palm dissipating into nothing. ¡°Who is she?¡± ¡®She can control wood,¡¯ Phason¨¦ groaned. ¡®One of Vallor¡¯s God-heirs!¡¯ ¡°Scythe?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Working on it¡­¡¯ ¡°The voice in your head trying to tell you how to fight me?¡± said the mothfolk in a singsong voice. ¡°Thinks I¡¯m one of Vallor¡¯s children or grandchildren or such-and-such? Everyone does.¡± She clenched her fist, and a stream of sawdust and woodchips raced up from the floor. ¡°I¡¯m Wren, and just Wren will have your bounty.¡± Before Vayra could try to attack again, the mothfolk thrust her hand up. The line of wood chips and sawdust condensed into a thick whip, and it clasped onto Vayra¡¯s wrist, whirling and scraping at her skin. Vayra tried to break the line by pounding it with her fist, but the angry sawdust scraped a wedge in the side of her hand. She yelped¡ªjust in time for the rope of wood chips to grasp her and fling her out the now-shattered windows. Vayra fell a few feet, until her arm wrenched upwards. The whip hadn¡¯t yet let go. Her fall halted, and she swung uncontrollably into the windows of the apartment below. The glass cracked but didn¡¯t shatter. Her ribs and shoulder, however, did send a wave of pain through her body. The mothfolk, Wren, walked to the edge of the drop and leaned over. In one hand, she held the other end of the sawdust whip, and in the other, she held a short, half-musket half-pistol weapon with an axehead fixed to its end. ¡°I loaded up some special buckshot for you, phoenix, though I suppose we¡¯d be better off calling it birdshot.¡± She cocked it with her thumb. ¡°Phason¨¦, how are we looking on the scythe?¡± ¡®Give me your hand.¡¯ Vayra struck the sawdust whip with a starlight palm, severing it. She plummeted down the side of the tower, and as she fell, she gave Phason¨¦ control of her hand. The starlight streaked out of the sky and wrapped around her forearm, burning away what remained of the wood chips and splinters. The scythe formed up with a whoosh, and just in time. The road, packed with racing carriages and wagons, rose up to meet her. Vayra drove the scythe into the wall of the apartment tower, its white blade slicing through glass and wood, until it eventually found stone¡ªstone took longer to cut through. Her arm pulled upwards, and she clasped the scythe with both hands to lower the strain on her shoulder. She was two thirds of the way down the tower. She had planned to take a slow, calm ride down to the road, where she could pause and reassess her situation, but when she looked up, she saw Wren diving off the windowsill. She¡¯d reach Vayra in seconds. Vayra targetted a wagon filled with hay and grain on the road below. ¡®Oh, please no¡­¡¯ Vayra kicked off the wall and tumbled through the air. She tucked her head and held her scythe away from her¡ªso she didn¡¯t accidentally cut herself. She landed hard in the cart of the wagon, the air pushed from her lungs. She coughed out a mouthful of hay, and, gasping, stood up. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Woah!¡± the wagon¡¯s driver yelled¡ªeither at her or the horses, she couldn¡¯t decide. ¡°Sorry!¡± Vayra called back. ¡°Please! Keep driving! I¡¯m sorry!¡± She crept to the edge of the wagon, watching the cobblestones whirl past below. The wagon raced deeper into the administration district, following a road through a valley of buildings. Lights whipped past her eyes. Vayra rubbed her head, wishing she had another vial of the concentration elixir that the Order had given her. By the time Vayra¡¯s mind cleared, she felt the presence of the mothfolk approaching. When Vayra squinted, she saw the woman¡¯s dark silhouette flutter in front of a vibrant billboard-painting. Her wings fluttered behind her, carrying her closer. ¡°Are you alright?¡± the wagon¡¯s driver asked. ¡°Where did you¡ª¡± Before he could finish, Wren fired her weapon. A few pellets struck Vayra in the shoulder, sending her spinning down to the hay-covered floor of the wagon. But Vayra hadn¡¯t been the target of the blast¡ªthe driver fell limp off the side of his seat, the back of his coat shredded by pellets. Vayra reached forwards, running her hand along the floor of the wagon. For a moment, she feared that the blast had been filled with iron, but she found one of the pellets still smouldering in the hay. A stone pebble. Vayra scrambled out of the back of the wagon and onto the driver¡¯s seat. She snatched up the reins, then swerved into the center of the road, hiding between two tall carriages. The mothfolk didn¡¯t have a clear shot, that much was certain. Besides, she would have to reload if she wanted to use the weapon again. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know who that is, would you?¡± Vayra asked Phason¨¦, snapping the reins to urge the horses to run faster. ¡®I have no idea. She¡¯s not a prominent God-heir, to be certain, and something feels off about her spirit.¡¯ ¡°If she¡¯s not a God-heir¡­¡± ¡®She¡¯s dressed like a bounty hunter.¡¯ ¡°A bounty hunter. Great¡­¡± Before Vayra could try to wring any more information out of Phason¨¦, the carriage beside them sped up, and a new wagon took its place. Driving it was Wren, who stood on an empty driver¡¯s seat. She held the reins in one hand, and in the other, she held a sharp stake of wood¡ªshe had holstered her firearm at her hip. With a flick of her wrist, Wren launched the stake of wood out of her hands. It blasted straight through the neck of one of the horses pulling Vayra¡¯s wagon, then impaled the other through its flank. Both horses collapsed. The wagon flipped over their bodies. Before the bulk of the wagon could crush her, Vayra leapt out of the seat and jumped towards the wagon Wren drove. She drove her scythe into its empty cargo bed, latching on. ¡®Going towards her?¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡°We don¡¯t have much choice! We won¡¯t escape if we don¡¯t incapacitate her!¡± Vayra hauled herself into the back of the wagon and took a wide stance to keep herself balanced. ¡°We have to buy time until help comes.¡± The guards at the bottom of the tower would have noticed something, she hoped. ¡°How much mana do we have?¡± ¡®More than three quarters left,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°More than enough.¡± Vayra gripped her scythe with two hands and cycled her Arcara into the starsteel bracers. She felt it heating up and surging back into her. The scythe glowed brighter. She leapt at Wren. The woman leaned to the side, then drew her short musket and fired a blast. Vayra turned her scythe so the flat of its blade blocked most of the pellets¡ªit was close enough to the muzzle to catch most of them. The force of the blast flung Vayra backwards. She clung to the back of the wagon to keep herself from flying off. The road passed over a deep hole in the city, and the winds picked up. They passed over a distant reservoir of water, then sunk into the valley of towers again. She caught her breath then pulled herself back onto the wagon. ¡®We don¡¯t know how strong she is!¡¯ ¡°You can¡¯t tell?¡± ¡®Not her! Fighting her is a terrible idea!¡¯ For once, Phason¨¦ was probably right. Vayra whispered, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, then. I have a new plan.¡± The reservoir had given her an idea. Wren stood up from her seat and hooked the horse¡¯s reins around a knob. The road continued straight onwards, towards another reservoir up ahead. Vayra jumped forwards, scythe outstretched. Wren stomped her foot down on the cargo bed of the wagon, freeing wood chips and sawdust. Before Vayra¡¯s strike could hit, Wren clasped the haft of the weapon with a whip of sawdust and pushed it down. The scythe¡¯s haft ate through the sawdust whip, but not before Wren leapt forwards. With a flutter of her wings, she pounced on Vayra and held the axehead on her carbine¡¯s muzzle against Vayra¡¯s throat. ¡°Get rid of the scythe, now,¡± Wren snarled. ¡°Comply, phoenix, or I¡¯ll end you here.¡± ¡®Now would be a great time for the Mediator Form¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. Vayra couldn¡¯t. She obliged Wren¡¯s request. They were almost at the second reservoir. Almost. ¡°Put your arms up,¡± Wren demanded. Vayra did as she was told again, but as she raised her arms, she tugged on the mothfolk¡¯s feathery antennae, wrenching the woman¡¯s head to the side. As the woman reeled, Vayra blasted a Starlight Palm into her chest, knocking her off balance. It didn¡¯t fling her¡ªclearly, she had an enhanced body of some sort¡ªbut it was enough for Vayra to squirm out of. The wagon rolled onto another bridge. They were over the second reservoir. Vayra jumped off the cargo bed and latched onto a carriage beside them, then climbed onto its roof. She leapt to another carriage, then to a train of cargo wagons pulled by beasts that weren¡¯t quite horses¡ªthey had bull horns, and she could feel their strength as their hoove pounded the pavement. They ran faster than horses, and she nearly lost her balance atop the cargo train. It changed lanes to the edge of the bridge. Vayra prepared to dive off the bridge into the reservoir, but before she could leap, a blast of wood chips struck her in the back. A few were sharp and stabbed into her shoulder, but the bulk of the force was enough to fling her off the wagon and over the edge of the bridge. As she plummeted, she barely had the wit to streamline herself before she hit the water. Her feet struck the surface first, and it felt like they rammed into a stone pathway. The water wrapped around them, pushing her legs out in front of her and slamming her head back hard against the surface of the man-made lake. In an instant, everything went black. Chapter 12: The Council Meets [Volume 2] Wren watched her target fall. She jumped onto the train of wagons behind the Mediator, then peered down into the reservoir. For a moment, she fluttered upwards with her wings, debating whether she should follow or not. After a second, she dropped back down on top of the wagon train, falling to a crouch. The wagons raced away between another valley of towers, and the reservoir below disappeared. Her chance passed. Her body ached and the base of her wings was sore. Mothfolk had lost their ability to fly long ago, but Wren had a reinforced body. With significant effort, she could fly. It didn¡¯t come without a cost. She focussed her Arcara, pushing it to the base of her wings to restore the tissue that she¡¯d damaged by fluttering so hard. Her body obliged. When she¡¯d reached the Quartermaster stage, she had undergone the proper Victra Family rituals¡ªthose described in the ancient tomes¡ªabout how to properly forge a God-heir¡¯s body, should the family ever have one. Not that Wren was a God-heir, of course. She sighed, then hooked her carbine to her belt and knelt on the wagon. She would have a chance to try again. Myrrir hadn¡¯t given her a time limit, and after a little while, the Order would settle down. Wren would have another chance. Vayra vaguely recalled being hauled onto a small rowboat. A few civilians rowed, bringing her to the artificial stone shores of the reservoir. Any moment, she expected the mothfolk bounty hunter to swoop down towards her, but it wasn¡¯t long before a pair of Order of Balance members swam to the side of the boat and climbed aboard, their swords drawn. More teemed on the shore, waiting to give aid. An hour later, Vayra awoke again in a cot in an infirmary. From the marble walls and high ceilings, she guessed they were back in the Order of Balance Temple. As the surgeons tended to her, she glanced around, still on edge. If bounty hunters could reach her in her apartment, was there anywhere that they couldn¡¯t? Even the presence of Elder Gheita and Elder Miin at the edge of the infirmary didn¡¯t help ease her. As she passed in and out of consciousness, she recalled Phason¨¦ rambling about seagulls and turtles. Something about how no one could harm an adult turtle while it roamed the sea, but when the eggs hatched on the shore, the first few minutes of scrambling to the sea were always the most dangerous. The only way Vayra would truly be safe is when she was more powerful. She needed to scramble to the sea. Faster. After a few more hours, Vayra awoke with only a dull pain in the back of her mind and most of her deeper cuts either bandaged or sutured. She stayed in the infirmary for the rest of the night, just to be cautious. In the morning, when her tired mind refused to give her any sort of clarity, the Order brought her another concentration-improving elixir. A few seconds later, she felt fresh, as if she¡¯d had a proper sleep the previous night. The elixir couldn¡¯t make her any less on edge. Everyone had to know where she was. What was to say more powerful God-heirs couldn¡¯t sneak to Thronehome and snuff her out for a reward? Or a constant deluge of bounty hunters with tricks up their sleeves. Before she could return to the library and continue her work, Elder Gheita intercepted her in the hallway outside the infirmary. ¡°The Gray Council is meeting, Vayra. We are requesting your presence in the high chamber.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­coming,¡± Vayra said. She glanced back, and noticed Glade standing outside the infirmary door with a hand on the hilt of his sword. She wondered if he had budged all night. As soon as she set off after Elder Gheita, Glade followed behind them, along with a few other Order members. She¡¯d come to realize that they weren¡¯t all elders, nor were they all disciples. Some were called ¡®adepts¡¯. The adepts had no elders supervising their training, but they weren¡¯t on the Gray Council, nor did they oversee a certain section of the temple; they weren¡¯t elders yet. The Gray Council¡¯s chamber was near the top of the Temple, in a room that just barely peeked over the main hall¡¯s roof. It had a smaller and less ornate rose window, which let multicoloured light into the chamber. The room itself was large enough to fit a round table with chairs all around it. Every chair was filled with a member of the Order in a black coat. Those with hair had dyed it white, and most of them carried swords. Vayra¡¯s apparent guards¡ªGlade and the adepts¡ªwaited outside the council chambers. The doors shut, and for a moment, everything was silent. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Vayra crept to the edge of the hall, making sure to step softly so she didn¡¯t disturb the silence. There wasn¡¯t a seat for her, but she didn¡¯t mind. She doubted she¡¯d have been able to sit still for long. ¡°How goes the Mediator¡¯s training?¡± asked an elder. He was an aging dryad with twigs wound into his hair and beard. Vayra expected someone to answer. She spotted Elder Yaryn in the corner, watching patiently. Did he have no progress reports? All heads turned to Vayra, and she mentioned the findings of the day before. When she was finished speaking, she tried to disappear into the shadows, rather than trying to admit that she wasn¡¯t living up to all their expectations. ¡°It is unwise for her to remain in the care of a librarian,¡± said another elder. ¡°She needs combat training.¡± ¡°She has combat training,¡± Gheita stated. ¡°Her ability to use a scythe could improve, yes, but it won¡¯t give her too much of an edge against much more powerful opponents. She needs to use the Mediator Form more reliably, and for longer. And she needs an enhanced body.¡± Vayra grimaced. If only saying it would make it easier. For a few more minutes, the elders calmly suggested plans or ideas, but most of them revolved around a missing piece¡ªan elder who knew how to use a scythe, or who knew the best techniques for cycling. Everything came back to the same conclusion. They would need to keep searching the library for clues about what was causing this roadblock, and what they could do to fix it. Vayra came to the conclusion that she needed the advice of a God-heir, not the Order. ¡®Ask them about Nathariel,¡¯ Phason¨¦ demanded. ¡®There¡¯s no better time.¡¯ Nodding, Vayra forced herself to step forwards. ¡°King Tallerion told me about someone named Natheriel Hayden Layre. When I had my first audience with him, that is. Is¡­is there any chance we could enlist his help?¡± The elders broke into a deluge of confused and rapid murmuring. A few turned to face each other, and a couple others began to slam their fists down on the table. Finally, a dwarven elder at the end of the table asked, ¡°Mediator, what did the King tell you about Mr. Layre?¡± ¡°He only mentioned the name. I figured you might know more about it.¡± ¡°We know much,¡± the dwarf said. ¡°But now is not the time to seek his aid.¡± ¡°Besides,¡± the Elder who had first spoken said, ¡°there is no reason to leave Thronehome. It is the safest world in Velaydia, and with our guards, you shouldn¡¯t have any more issues.¡± ¡°Do we know who her assailant was?¡± asked a human elder with dark skin. ¡°She had magic, yes, but we do not know how powerful she was, nor her allegiance.¡± ¡°It was a bounty hunter,¡± the dwarven elder said. ¡°If Elder Olrannd had been there, perhaps she could have scanned the hunter¡¯s spirit, but she regrettably wasn¡¯t.¡± ¡°The marines are searching for the bounty hunter,¡± Gheita commented. ¡°However, they haven¡¯t caught her yet. She fled into the undercity, and until the marines report a finding, there is little we can do. Either we run her down eventually, or she reveals herself again and attacks you.¡± Vayra raised a hand shyly. ¡°Sorry, but¡­she clearly had an enhanced body. When I struck her with the Starlight Palm, it barely did anything. She had to be higher than a quartermaster.¡± Even if the marines did locate the mothfolk woman, they wouldn¡¯t be able to detain her. Another few minutes passed in directionless discussion. Vayra stepped back to the edge of the room, tuning out the conversation. The Elders spoke of her like she was an asset, which she supposed was natural, but it was hard not to feel excluded. ¡®Press them about Layre more,¡¯ Phason¨¦ demanded. ¡®Don¡¯t take no for an answer, Vayra. You know what the king told you¡ªthe Order clearly isn¡¯t fond of him.¡¯ ¡°I doubt we¡¯ll get a proper answer out of them,¡± she whispered as quietly as she could. ¡®It can¡¯t hurt to try.¡¯ Vayra sighed, but she never found a good time to press the topic. It didn¡¯t matter; she would try in a different way. If the Order disliked Nathariel so much, she¡¯d surely find something about him in the library¡ªwhich she had full access to, now, and an excuse to be there. Even if it was just documentation of why Nathariel wasn¡¯t their favourite, it was worth examining. The council came to an agreement: they would post extra guards at Vayra¡¯s apartment, and she could never be outside without at least two guards to accompany her. The thought of it eased her mind, slightly, but no matter how skilled the guards were, they wouldn¡¯t be able to hold off the mothfolk hunter forever. The council dissolved, and Vayra returned to the library. It was late in the evening when Myrrir received a messenger fish. He and the crew of the Hyovao fished it out of the water and hauled it up to the junk¡¯s forecastle. The little silver fish squirmed and writhed, but it couldn¡¯t escape Myrrir¡¯s grip. He pried its lips open and pulled a scroll of parchment out of its mouth. On a sheet of parchment, someone had written a short message in ornate handwriting. It read: Target engaged. Almost captured. Awaiting calm¡ªwill attempt again. If you hear news of this, do not fear. I have not yet failed. If she leaves the planet, I will follow. In any other case, Myrrir would have been furious. He¡¯d paid a premium sum to a bounty hunter with the expectation that there would be no screw-ups. But, for his plans, this was more than acceptable. Immediately, he stuffed the note in his pocket and crushed the fish under his heel¡ªit had swam a long journey down the Stream, and messengers didn¡¯t stop nor pause. They swam as fast as they could, even if it meant working themselves to death. Myrrir might not have been concerned about their souls, but he didn¡¯t need to prolong the creature¡¯s suffering, either. He ran back to the quarterdeck. ¡°We need to get moving. Larin VI isn¡¯t the best place to listen for rumours.¡± He looked closely at the coxswains, then at Tye. ¡°We need to be ready to intercept her when she leaves Thronehome¡ªand Velaydian territory.¡± Chapter 13: Fire Paths [Volume 2] For the next week, Vayra spent her days in the library. She pretended to be reading the ever-growing stack of books that Elder Yaryn had given her, but in reality, she hunted the library for any mentions of Nathariel Hayden Layre. First, she snuck down to a dark corner, tucked into a winding maze of bookshelves where the records of the God-heir kinships were. She found books documenting the Great Kinships, those descended from the High Pantheon, with the most powerful magic. Then, as she ducked out of the sight of another librarian, she stumbled across a shelf filled with records on the known pirate clans. Nothing about a Layre clan or kinship. When she¡¯d exhausted her leads in the records of kinships, she turned to the family records¡ªa sprawling set of shelves. Rickety wooden walkways ran along them, and an Order disciple cleaned the dust off the books. Keeping to the shadows, Vayra kept out of sight from the disciple. She wound around the backs of the shelves, then climbed up without a walkway. The books were organized alphabetically, but it still took her nearly a half hour to climb (without the help of a walkway) to the ¡®H¡¯ section. It took her two days of hunting to sift through all the books. Finally, with Phason¨¦¡¯s help, she located a simple record kept on the Hayden family. Bound in a decaying leather cover, the text was written in messy handwriting that Vayra had to squint to make out. The parchment pages crinkled beneath her fingers, and it reeked faintly of rotting fruit. She snuck the book back to the desk Elder Yaryn had given her, then cracked it open all the way and read through it. Every time someone walked behind her, she hid it in her lap, her heart pounding. Thankfully, they hadn¡¯t assigned a protection detail to her while she was in the Temple. Glade often stopped by, inquiring why she was so on-edge, and she told him that it was just jitters from the encounter with the bounty hunter. When the time came, she could tell him what she was planning¡ªbut not without a good lead, first. The family record explained the Hayden family. They were a family that branched off of the Lyze, the God of Fire¡¯s main line, and faded into relative obscurity. Most of their God-heirs didn¡¯t ascend their spirits very high at all, and few of them ever reached the Flag Officer realm. Vayra began to flip through the book quickly. As it progressed, the family¡¯s strength fell dimmer and dimmer, until finally, it didn¡¯t seem like many of them were different from a regular, non-spirited individual. Then, near the end, she found a passage about a child, Nathariel, who showed great aptitude for spiritual ascension. An anomaly. The records ended before it could elaborate. ¡®Wait, wait,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. ¡®Flip that page over and look. A page has been torn out.¡¯ A line of rough, shredded parchment remained just against the spine. They had done their best to make it look inconspicuous, but short of destroying the entire book, it was impossible to hide the removed page. Vayra closed the book and set it back on the table, then tapped her fingers against its cover and sighed. But without Nathariel, she had no other leads. She would be stuck here, weak, forever. Giving up wasn¡¯t an option. The next few days, she wandered the library, trying to figure out the hall¡¯s general organization structure. Elder Yaryn caught her snooping around one time, and he immediately passed her a few more books¡ªas if she had already finished her assigned reading and needed more. She figured the library was arranged into a grid. Family and kinship records in one corner, and general, unsorted books opposite to it. A few sections to the left, she found one section devoted to ships¡¯ logs¡ªat least, what the Order had been able to recover from the Mascant Archives before Karmion took over. According to the family record, Nathariel would have been born some five-hundred years ago, which made it easy to find ship¡¯s logs that would have existed after he was born. Most logs were simple and unhelpful, but soon, she located the Harmony¡¯s old logbook, which she and Glade had recovered from the Mascant Archives a few months ago. There would have to be something in there. Hopefully, it hadn¡¯t been in this library long enough to tamper with. She flipped through the book, sifting through pages until she arrived at the rough time period she was looking for. Once she had it, she placed her finger in the book so she didn¡¯t lose the page, then closed it. ¡®His abilities would not have put him into the public eye until he was a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty years old,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Not noticeable?¡± Vayra asked, bringing the logbook back to her desk. She ducked into an alcove to avoid the gaze of an Adept, who wandered the logbook section the same as she did. ¡®If the Layre kinship was truly as fallen as they say, it would have taken a God-heir a long time to climb to a point where he could truly make a footprint in the larger galaxy,¡¯ Phason¨¦ explained. ¡®A God-heir¡¯s climb requires a large number of elixirs and pure dedication to cycling techniques, building up Arcara in silence and waiting for skills to blossom. Myrrir was over three centuries old when you first met him.¡¯ ¡°He didn¡¯t act like it,¡± Vayra grumbled. She slipped out of cover and walked as fast as she could back to her desk. ¡°I thought someone that old would have been wise and mature. His mortal, human first mate seemed more responsible than he did.¡± ¡®You will find that with many God-heirs, I¡¯m afraid,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°And you, I suppose.¡± ¡®But I¡¯ve already explained that to you. Unless you need a reminder?¡¯ Phason¨¦ paused. ¡®Another reason why you, the Mediator, are a necessary counterbalance. Sometimes, the seclusion of the climb, the constant rise¡­it can drive God-heirs insane and make them unstable.¡¯ ¡°Hammontor,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Exactly.¡¯ She began to flip through the logbook, where she had left her finger, hunting for any sign or mention of Nathariel. ¡®If you flip so fast, you¡¯re going to miss something,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. The logbook¡¯s script was small, flourishing, and written in golden ink. It was hard to skim through it and still see what it said. She slowed down, and for the rest of the day, she began to read through the pages slowly. When the sun set and the library began to dim, she found it. About two hundred and fifty years ago, the Mediator had been summoned to respond to a threat. A God-heir on a fire Path had developed deadly techniques, which seemed powerful enough to even kill Gods of the High Pantheon, should he develop them further. He was using them against God-heirs who were abusing their power, for now, but it seemed like everyone figured he¡¯d set his sights higher. He could set their mana on fire, burning it away and shrivelling them into a husk. Their Arcara would catch aflame soon after. He was nearly unbeatable. Fire Path? It could have been Nathariel. ¡®It could be. Keep reading.¡¯ The Mediator had pursued him with a squadron of Order of Balance Elders at her back, and they attacked immediately¡ªif this fire-path God-heir¡¯s techniques were capable of killing Gods, then surely, it would hurt the Mediator. Threatened, this God-heir¡ªwho they estimated was at the Captain of Commodore stage¡ªfought them. He killed a few of the Elders and seriously injured the Mediator, from which she never recovered. According to the log, they had dealt a severe blow to the Fire Path God-heir as well, though. A note in the margin informed Vayra that nobody had seen a Fire Path God-heir for centuries afterwards. The Order deemed it dangerous to learn from them or work with them, even if they might have been willing to help keep the peace. ¡°Is that accurate?¡± she asked Phason¨¦. ¡®God-heirs using a fire Path were rare before Karmion took over. Now? He¡¯s sent hunters and pirates after them, probably for this reason. They can potentially harm him.¡¯ ¡°Then this is our best lead.¡± Vayra closed the book and leaned back in her chair. ¡°I hate to say it, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to find much else in this library.¡± ¡®Where was this God-heir last seen?¡¯ ¡°Muspellar,¡± Vayra said, tapping the logbook. A fiery, magma planet? What better place? ¡°At least, that was where his residence was before the Order attacked him.¡± ¡®If they left after he injured their Mediator, then he would have no reason to abandon the world,¡¯ Phason¨¦ hypothesized. ¡°Either way, we¡¯ll learn more there than we will here.¡± Vayra crossed her arms. ¡°Besides,¡± she whispered, ¡°if we keep moving, it will be much harder for that bounty hunter to follow us. We¡¯ll be safer that way.¡± She got up and snuck the logbook back onto the shelf, then thanked Elder Yaryn for his work. ¡°You are welcome, miss.¡± ¡°Did you find anything¡­interesting in the Godscourge book?¡± she asked him. ¡°Of interest¡ªor help¡ªto you?¡± Yaryn shook his head. ¡°Tips. Ways to modify techniques. More uses for those starsteel bracers of yours. I jotted down a list of pages you may find helpful on the inside cover, if you would like it back.¡± ¡°Thank you very much,¡± Vayra said, then took the book back from him. He had very clean, almost perfect writing, like the list had been printed in a press. Sure enough, he¡¯d marked off a few page numbers and written short summaries¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t have to sift through the whole book. ¡°Since, in the coming days, I¡¯ll probably be appointed to a new teacher¡± (which wasn¡¯t wrong) ¡°this¡¯ll be the last I see of you for a bit.¡± ¡°Take care, miss,¡± Yaryn said, bowing his head. Vayra placed the book back in her haversack, then stepped out of the library and ran up through the Temple to the disciple¡¯s quarters. They bunked in dormitories along a long hallway. Glade had told her which room he slept in, but she hadn¡¯t remembered¡ªbesides, he bunked with a few other disciples, and trying to share secrets with him while the others were there wouldn¡¯t be wise. She waited in the hallway until she saw him walking past, then intercepted him, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him into a dark corner just beside the stairwell. He raised his eyebrows. ¡°Not like that,¡± she hissed. ¡°We need to talk.¡± ¡°Is something wrong?¡± She told him what she¡¯d discovered about Nathariel, then said, ¡°I¡¯m going. The Order is good, but I need the advice of someone stronger. Are you coming?¡± Chapter 14: Dodging Adepts [Volume 2] ¡°Will anything I say dissuade you?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Or will you go with or without me?¡± ¡°Whether you come or not is all up to you,¡± Vayra said. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then added, ¡°But I¡¯m going to Muspellar. It¡¯ll be safest if I keep moving, and I¡¯ll be better equipped to protect myself once I get stronger.¡± She bit her lip. She¡¯d be better equipped to put an end to this war, too. For a moment, Glade paused, his eyes narrow. Finally, he said softly, ¡°I will come.¡± As soon as he finished, he sighed. Vayra gulped, and for a moment, her stomach dropped. ¡°Wait, but what about your training?¡± ¡°That was not a concern of yours before you asked me to join you?¡± ¡°Well¡­I didn¡¯t think about¡­¡± She trailed off. ¡®You don¡¯t often think about things,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Regardless, I will come up with an excuse,¡± said Glade. ¡°I will tell them I followed you, in the interest of keeping you safe. You would not listen to reason¡ªwhich I am sure is quite accurate.¡± She chuckled softly, then said, ¡°Perhaps throwing myself into danger will help me overcome this, anyways. Or I might have a realization. That always worked before¡ªI didn¡¯t learn the Starlight Palm while sitting around a campfire.¡± ¡°That does not mean I will be complacent with everything¡­¡± Glade warned. ¡°I fully expect you to disagree with me. I¡­I kinda need you to keep me in line, I think. Stream knows, Phason¨¦ isn¡¯t good at it¡­¡± ¡®Hey!¡¯ ¡°Then I will come with you,¡± Glade said. ¡°That works, I guess¡­¡± Vayra stepped back, then put her hands on her hips. ¡°I¡¯m going to head back to my apartment and get ready. I¡¯ll meet you there¡ªassuming you¡¯re looking to gather a few things of your own?¡± She thought, How¡¯s that for thinking about others, Phason¨¦? ¡®Getting better,¡¯ the Goddess replied. They parted ways. Vayra ran down to the plaza outside the Temple, then walked across it as fast as she could. A pair of Order adepts followed her, their hands on their swords, and she didn¡¯t mind the extra protection while in the city. But she would have to lose them eventually. She boarded a carriage at the edge of the plaza, along with the adepts, and they travelled back to her apartment. It was a long ride in evening traffic, and Vayra glanced around as the carriage rumbled along, wary of someone sneaking up on her. No one did. She arrived safely at the tower and took the staircase up to her floor, then walked down the hall to her room. She entered. The two adepts waited outside. The inside of the apartment had mostly been repaired. There wasn¡¯t much to fix on the inside, but the windows had been replaced, save for a crack near the edge where the glass didn¡¯t fit perfectly, letting in a gust of warm summer air. It wasn¡¯t enough to cause her discomfort¡ªthere wasn¡¯t much heat that could do that to a phoenix¡ªbut it was noticeable. It would be warmer on Muspellar; she had better get used to it. First, she organized her haversack. She still had the two vials of Namola elixir that Mr. Spawlding had prepared for her, in case she got nicked by iron and needed a quick fix. In her apartment, a shipment of other elixirs prepared by the Order awaited her. She plucked up a few vials of green liquid that shimmered in the city lights¡ªa mixture of distilled herbs and stimulants that, when cycled, would help her body heal. Beside them, she found another turquoise vial¡ªfor improved concentration. The last of the elixirs was a single orange vial. Its contents truly glowed, like fire mixed with honey, and when she swirled it, she could practically feel the mana rolling off it. ¡°Any idea what this one does, Phason¨¦?¡± ¡®What you might think,¡¯ the Goddess told her. ¡®It¡¯s straight mana, if you ever need a boost.¡¯ A black, velvet-lined box had been used to store the elixirs. She nestled them all back in, including the Namola elixir, then snapped it shut. It fit nicely inside her haversack. ¡°At this rate, we¡¯re going to need a backpack.¡± ¡®Or you could leave some of it with me, in the white void,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°And not be able to grab it quickly when I need it?¡± ¡®When you get more powerful, you¡¯ll be able to call it at a whim¡­¡¯ ¡°Keep giving me things to hope for.¡± Vayra let a smile slip onto her face. ¡°But we shouldn¡¯t need a full pack, yet.¡± She turned back to the counter. A second black velvet box waited for her. She flipped it open, revealing three small, white pills. ¡®And that there is probably the entire quarterly bankroll of the northern star systems,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°What are they?¡± ¡®Silver-Rain Circulation pills,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Take one of these, and you¡¯ll double the rate that your mana converts to Arcara for a few weeks. Helpful if you plan on cycling a lot.¡¯ This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. It wouldn¡¯t be useful at the moment¡ªconverting more mana was the last thing she needed¡ªbut she could recognize the benefit. She closed the case, then tucked it into her haversack with the others. Finally, she added the Godscourge book, a few bandages, and a few pouches of rations. Dried fruit, nuts, some smoked meat, and a few pucks of hardtack. ¡°That should be everything.¡± As soon as her sack was sorted out, she tightened her bracers, and took a clean white nightgown out of the closet, put it on, and tucked it into her short breaches. It might not have been proper fashion, but it was comfortable, and easy enough to fight in when tucked in. ¡°Ready?¡± she asked Phason¨¦. ¡°We¡¯ll have to make a break for the port, once Glade¡ª¡± On cue, she heard a knock at the door. Carefully, she approached, arms up, until she heard one of the adepts call, ¡°Miss? You have a guest¡ªMr. Charl, a disciple who you might know.¡± ¡°Let him in, please!¡± she called back, then pulled the door open. Glade stepped into the room, then shut the door behind him. He had a clean black coat on, and his cravat was tidy. His sword hung at his hip, its pommel polished and its grip was clean. He carried a satchel as well. ¡°You are ready?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good to go,¡± she told him, keeping her voice soft so the adepts wouldn¡¯t hear her. ¡°We are taking the Harmony, correct?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure Pels will be happy to go sailing again.¡± He nodded, then tilted his head towards the door. ¡°We might have to wait for the crew. And if we have to wait, there is a good chance someone will catch up.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why we have to leave here without anyone noticing.¡± ¡°They will be very concerned about you, Vayra,¡± Glade said. ¡°They will think someone succeeded in capturing you, and they will send people to look.¡± He was right. She turned to the apartment¡¯s counter, then sifted through the drawers. She thought she had seen a well of ink and a quill in one of them a few nights ago. After a few seconds of rummaging, she found the inkwell and the quill. In the drawer beside it, a few sheets of parchment. She ripped a corner off one of the sheets, then, in her signature messy handwriting, scrawled a note. Gone for a little. Looking for Nathariel Hayden Layre. Will come back soon. -Vayra ¡°Hopefully that does it,¡± she said. Glade pinned it to the counter with one of the kitchen knives, then nodded. But now came the hard part¡ªshe had to execute the plan. ¡®A distraction?¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. And when the guards realized that Vayra went missing after they were distracted? They¡¯d suspect something immediately, and there would be chaos. The plan would fall apart. Vayra looked back at the windows. They could break the windows, but it would be loud. They¡¯d have the exact same problem. ¡®The ventilation ducts,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®They¡¯ll take you back to the stairwell, and the guards won¡¯t see you.¡¯ Vayra glanced around the apartment, until, on one of the inside walls, she spotted it. She pushed a chair over to the wall, then pulled the wooden lattice off and climbed up into it. It was a small chamber, and she could barely fit through it while crawling. Once she was past the grate, the main structure of the duct was made of stone, and at least it seemed relatively sturdy. A strong breeze filtered into it through exterior grates, whipping her hair into a tornado around her face. Glade followed close behind, his hands and boots thumping on the stone. The duct turned a corner, and Vayra followed the bend. They passed a few other branches that led to other empty apartments, but she kept following it to the end. They crossed overtop a hallway¡ªshe could see down into it through a grate. Another Order adept walked along the hallway below, and Vayra froze for a moment. The adept kept moving. As soon as the woman was out of sight, Vayra continued on down the duct. After another corner, they arrived above a staircase. She could see the ornate wooden banister and the marble steps a few yards below. She pushed on the edges of the duct frame, nudging it forward until it slipped off its mount and fell forwards. She lunged, grabbing hold of it before it fell and made a loud crash. Her legs slipped, and she landed hard on her chest, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her legs had nothing to grip, and she began to slip. She let out a soft yelp, but before she fell head-first onto the stairs, Glade caught her ankle and hauled her back up. ¡®If only you could become less clumsy by climbing the ranks of magic¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ grumbled. As gently as she could, Vayra placed the cover inside the duct and crept forward. She swung down, gripping the edge of the duct with her arms and letting herself slip down as far as she could. As soon as her arms were extended all the way, she released her grip and fell a few feet to the stairs. To cushion her landing, she fell into a crouch. ¡°How¡¯s that for clumsy?¡± she whispered to Phason¨¦. ¡®The instincts of a street rat.¡¯ Vayra rolled her eyes, then stepped aside to let Glade jump down as well. He landed softly and gracefully, and he glanced up and down the staircase. It was empty, but Vayra cursed herself for not checking sooner. They sprinted down the stairs, taking them as fast as they could. As soon as they were a few flights down, they didn¡¯t have to worry about stealth any longer, and they jumped down half of the winding steps to save time and energy. By the time they reached the bottom, Vayra was panting. There were a few Order adepts stationed in the lobby, and for a second, she ducked back into the stairwell. ¡°Adepts,¡± she told Glade. ¡°They are guarding the main entrance,¡± he whispered back. ¡°Take the staff entrance. I do not believe they are paying as close attention to it.¡± They left the stairwell and crept as softly as they could across the back of the building¡¯s lobby, until they reached the reception desk and vaulted over it. Vayra fell to a crouch. The single receptionist working so late at night was distracted, sorting the apartment keys in a back office. She didn¡¯t notice Vayra and Glade sneaking out the staff¡¯s entrance door. Once they were outside, it was a straight shot to the harbour. Glade hailed a taxi carriage¡ªa black carriage with a yellow, candle-lit sign on its roof, and requested that the driver take them to the port. In the evening, after rush hour, the traffic was sparse, and they arrived within an hour. Even though they were moving, it didn¡¯t stop Vayra from glancing around. As far as she was concerned, the sooner they got off Thronehome, the further away they would be from the bounty hunter. As soon as they arrived at the port, they leapt out of the carriage. Glade paid the driver a few silver coins. They ran down to the wharf and onto the docks, then down the pier and onto the Champion. Soon, soon, they¡¯d be off¡­ Chapter 15: Boarding, Destination, Pistol... [Volume 2] Vayra walked quickly and calmly, pretending that she was supposed to be here. She couldn¡¯t draw attention to herself. They walked to the end of the pier, where the gangway to the Harmony reached across to the dock. At the end, they found a pair of Redmarine sentries. Vayra squinted, trying to make out their faces in the dark. She hadn¡¯t gotten to know the new marine additions to their crew well, but she had learned some of their names. These were¡­Mr. Kertogg and Mr. Tressdott? ¡°Who goes there?¡± Kertogg asked, cocking his musket. He was an elf with long brown hair¡ªhe kept it in a ponytail that spilled out from beneath his peaked hat. ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± Vayra whispered. Tressdott held out a lantern, illuminating her face. She added, ¡°And Glade¡¯s here¡ªor, I suppose you don¡¯t know him. He¡¯s an Order disciple.¡± ¡°Oh, Mediator Vayra!¡± Tressdott exclaimed. Tressdott was a dwarf with a thick braided beard, and his red coat had been modified to fit his diminutive stature, but his eyes glimmered with unflinching duty. ¡°Keep it down!¡± Kertogg snapped at Tressdott. ¡°People are sleeping.¡± ¡°And¡­we¡¯re not supposed to be here,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We need to speak with Captain Pels.¡± ¡°He¡¯s sleeping too,¡± Kertogg said. ¡°I¡¯m sure we could wake him for the Mediator,¡± said Tressdott. ¡°The captain? He¡¯ll be grouchy!¡± ¡°And so will Vayra,¡± Glade said. ¡°The longer we are out in the open, the worse it will be for us. And you, by extension¡­¡± ¡°Alright, alright,¡± said Kertogg. ¡°Follow us.¡± They crept across the gangway and dropped onto the main deck, where a pair of sailors watched the deck¡ªthey wore simple reefer¡¯s jackets and straw hats. They stepped aside without questioning the marines, then dipped their heads to Vayra and Glade. She, Glade, and the marines walked to the quarterdeck and stopped right in front of the ship¡¯s great cabin. In theory, she was supposed to be using the ship¡¯s great cabin, but it didn¡¯t seem proper¡ªthat was the captain¡¯s quarters, and she wasn¡¯t the captain. Instead, she had taken a corner of the officers¡¯ quarters that wasn¡¯t being used, which the crew had rigged up a curtain around to give her a morsel of privacy. She was supposed to have a meditation chamber. Or a cycling chamber. Or whatever they called it. They stopped outside the great cabin, and Kertogg tapped softly on the door. A few seconds later, she heard a crash, then a grunt. Finally, Pels said, ¡°Come in, come in.¡± Kertogg opened the door slowly, then motioned for Vayra and Glade to enter. ¡°Ah, you two,¡± Pels said. ¡°Do you need the adepts? They gave us four, if you¡¯re looking for them. I put them with the officers¡ª¡± ¡°Please, don¡¯t tell them we¡¯re here,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We¡¯re trying to get out. Without them noticing.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t piss them off, now, too, did you?¡± Pels asked. He stepped away from the door and into the great cabin. His yellow coat hung on the wall, but he still wore his shirt and cumberbund, and his pistol was tucked into it. When he noticed Vayra glancing at it, he pulled it out and set it on one of the cabin¡¯s ornate dressers. ¡°Sorry, habit.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t make anyone mad, I don¡¯t think,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Not yet. When they find my note¡ªtomorrow morning, by the looks of it¡ªthey¡¯ll be looking for me. I¡¯d like to be gone before then. They crew will still be back early in the morning, right, if they were gone at all?¡± ¡°Now, hold on a second, missy,¡± Pels said. He walked to the stern, where the ship¡¯s enormous round window looked out over the rippling harbour. The city lights reflected against the waves, along with the shimmering star and moonlight. ¡°Where exactly are we going, and why?¡± Vayra explained her plan to him as best as she could. Then, she added, ¡°The Order doesn¡¯t like Nathariel very much.¡± ¡°And it seems like it¡¯s for a good reason. If he isn¡¯t friendly, he could seriously hurt you. He could kill you. Why would you think he could help you?¡± ¡°He¡¯s on our side, and he hates God-heirs,¡± Vayra told him. ¡°King Tallerion said he was an ally.¡± Pels pressed his fingers against his chin and exhaled softly. ¡°The Order will try to stop us,¡± she said. ¡°And you didn¡¯t try to stop her?¡± Pels looked at Glade, then shook his head. ¡°I did my best to talk her out of it, but she would not listen,¡± Glade said. ¡°If nothing else, I will help make sure nothing bad happens to her.¡± He paused, then said, ¡°And now, it seems that bounty hunters know of her whereabouts. If one found her, more could reach her.¡± Pels sighed. ¡°Well, it¡¯ll be more of an adventure than we¡¯re having here, that much is certain¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need you to get rid of those Order adepts, though,¡± she said. ¡°If you¡¯d just, you know, send them on an errand before we leave¡­¡± Like a disappointed father that had no other choice, he put his hands on his hips and groaned. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯ll tell them to go make themselves useful by grabbing us some extra rope¡ªthey don¡¯t need to know that we already got our extras yesterday.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°And¡­could we get a bed for Glade, too?¡± He rubbed his forehead. ¡°Yes, yes, we¡¯ll arrange that.¡± After a short pause, he turned around, then walked back to the hammock. ¡°Am I the only one who has a horrible feeling about this?¡± Vayra bit her lip. ¡°What other choice do we have?¡± After a few seconds, Pels said, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we have much of a choice, the way you explain it, but I still don¡¯t like it. Feels like we¡¯re walking right into a trap.¡± He placed his hands down on the hammock and smoothed it out. ¡°Now, I¡¯d like to get a bit of rest before we set off tomorrow. Just be quiet, and stay in your quarters until we get moving. I¡¯ll deal with the adepts for you¡ªand I¡¯ll make sure those marines keep their lips sealed.¡± The next morning, when all of the officers vacated their sleeping quarters, Vayra peered around the corner of the curtain. She didn¡¯t spot anyone in the officers¡¯ quarters, and the ship had started to rock faster than normal. They were moving again. ¡®Good morning,¡¯ said Phason¨¦, speaking inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡°Any idea if they¡¯re still around? The Order folks?¡± Vayra imagined the Goddess shrugging. ¡®The only way to find out is by checking. But I don¡¯t sense anyone with Fair Spirit Potential aboard, except for Glade.¡¯ ¡°Alright¡­¡± Vayra stretched. There wasn¡¯t much room in her makeshift chamber¡ªbarely enough to string a hammock up across the corner¡ªand her back was a little sore. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and strapped her boots on. Stepping softly, she crept out of her chamber and walked out onto the Harmony¡¯s main deck. She saw a man in a black coat, and for a moment, she ducked behind the stairs up to the quarterdeck. But it was just Glade. ¡°A little nervous?¡± he asked, walking towards her. ¡°Just didn¡¯t want to get caught.¡± She stepped out into the sunlight, then ran up to the quarterdeck. She looked back. The city was now just a distant wooden cliff overlooking the harbour, and there was no way anyone would catch up. Ahead, the Stream sloped up into the heavens, becoming them upwards. She tried to push away the last of her doubts. ¡°Got rid of the adepts like you asked,¡± came Pels¡¯ voice. He stood at a table, between two navigators. On the table, a parchment map of the galaxy had been laid out¡ªonly two dimensions, with inked lines to represent the Stream and dots to represent star systems. ¡°So, Muspellar, huh?¡± ¡°Muspellar,¡± she confirmed, walking over to the table. ¡°Where¡­where is that?¡± ¡°Thought you¡¯d never ask,¡± Pels said sarcastically. He picked up a dry quill and tapped the map. The galaxy was divided up into two parts¡ªthree quarters of it marked the star systems and territory taken by Karmion: the Elderworlds. The rest, to the Galactic East, was Velaydian space, where they currently were. From North to South, a dotted line marked the border between the Elderworlds and Velaydia¡ªthe Line of Battle. The world in question was along the Line of Battle, towards the south of the galaxy. ¡°It¡¯s currently under Elderworld control,¡± Pels said, ¡°Though it¡¯s a contested world. A couple branches of the Stream connect to it, making it strategically important. Its resources¡ªiron from the lava flats, and mineral rich hot-spring water¡ªare just gravy.¡± Vayra nodded. Glade asked, ¡°How long will it take?¡± ¡°For the Harmony?¡± He ran his finger along the map, from Thronehome to Muspellar. ¡°A week and a half, perhaps.¡± The navigators nodded in agreement. Then, he looked back at Vayra, and said, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll be doing much training?¡± ¡®You shouldn¡¯t,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Not until we arrive.¡¯ ¡°There has to be something we can do¡­¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯m not sitting around for a week and a half doing nothing.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d tell you to help out the sailors and learn the ropes a little, but I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much your scrawny arms could do to help us yet.¡± Pels chuckled to himself, then laid a hand on his pistol. ¡°You haven¡¯t practiced much with firearms, have you?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t. I mean, I know how to pull the trigger and make it go boom, but loading it is a little¡­above my pay grade.¡± ¡°Then now¡¯s your chance to learn! I¡¯ll teach you a thing or two. Just give us an hour or so to get moving on the Stream.¡± Once the Harmony was sailing at top speed, racing down the Stream at nearly thirty-three teraknots, Pels was comfortable that they didn¡¯t need his presence on the quarterdeck. He headed down to the main deck, then took the stairs to the gundeck. He navigated between the gunners, who polished and cleaned the cannons, or made sure they were firmly roped in place so they wouldn¡¯t slide around during intergalactic travel. At the end of the gun deck, he found the gunsmith helping Mr. Kertogg with the frizzen of his musket. Pels approached the gunsmith, Mr. Taramir, and asked, ¡°Busy?¡± ¡°Just a second, captain,¡± Mr. Taramir replied. He was a burly, swarthy man, with grease-stained fingers and a smudged uniform. ¡°I can wait,¡± Pels said. Once the frizzen of the marine¡¯s musket snapped properly, Taramir turned to Pels and asked, ¡°How can I help, captain?¡± ¡°I just need a pistol,¡± he said. ¡°For you? Gonna dual-wield them?¡± A big grin crossed Taramir¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯ll grab on from the armoury right away¡ª¡± ¡°Not for me,¡± Pels said. The marine stepped back, his expression dumbfounded¡ªon any other ship, an exchange like this between a subordinate officer and a captain would never have been tolerated. But Pels was more than happy to tolerate it. At least this way, the crew trusted him. He placed a hand on Taramir¡¯s shoulder. ¡°For the Mediator. She¡¯ll learn to shoot.¡± Mr. Taramir led the way to the armoury, where he picked up a pistol and a satchel full of pre-wrapped paper cartridges. ¡°You¡¯ve been looking forward to this, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡°All the other officers already know how to shoot when they get their service pistol,¡± Pels lamented. ¡°Gotta get yourself a kid, then,¡± Mr. Taramir said. He handed Pels the pistol and cartridge pouch. ¡°Didn¡¯t really work out.¡± With a sigh, he cocked the pistol, then pulled the trigger. It wasn¡¯t loaded, but the flint still snapped forward and let out a burst of sparks when it struck the pan. ¡°Not much time for that when I¡¯m a navy captain, and all.¡± ¡°I get it, cap,¡± Taramir said. His face was still bright. ¡°Teach well.¡± Chapter 16: Reaching an Understanding [Volume 2] Nilsenir wasn¡¯t expecting any visitors at his hall at such a late hour. He was about to rise from his throne and return to his private chambers for the night when the doors swung open. For a few seconds, he saw nobody. He stopped moving altogether, but he drew from his nearly endless well of mana to begin a combat-focussed cycling technique. He stretched out his perception, sensing his surroundings and everything within the chamber. Two vats of black powder waited behind his throne, ready to be put to use. The banners overhead swayed, but he stilled them with a stomp of his foot. His strength was such that he could control a flag marked with any of his sigils. He was surrounded by weapons. For good measure, he still drew his pistol. The two attendants at the other end of the hall had the sense to step away from the doorway. A horse trotted up the stairs and through the open doors, and a man in a dark cloak rode atop it. Nilsenir couldn¡¯t sense anything about the man or the horse. Either the man was nothing, or he was really good at hiding the strength of his spirit. There were only a few people in the galaxy who could hide their true strength from Nilsenir. He dropped to his hands and knees and bowed, pressing his forehead against the floor. The man rode his horse across the hall until it stood right in front of Nilsenir. He dismounted, landing heavily on his black boots. Beneath his cloak, he wore a pristine military uniform¡ªblue, of course¡ªand a golden sash. Atop his head, he wore a tricorn hat with a plume made of nothing but magically-suspended water. He crouched down in front of Nilsenir, but didn¡¯t dip his head¡ªnothing would be construed as a bow. ¡°What a mess this has been.¡± ¡°My Lord Karmion,¡± Nilsenir whispered. ¡°What is demanded from me?¡± ¡°A little more caution, and much more prudence in who you choose to serve you,¡± Karmion snapped. ¡°It seems the Mediator is growing well-known in Velaydia. In time, those rumours will spread to the Elderworlds, and there is only so much I can do to suppress it. You should thank me that the papers wouldn¡¯t even dare to print her title, really, but I don¡¯t suppose you understand how much work I do to keep this empire together.¡± ¡°I understand, Karmion, I¡ª¡± Karmion threw his cloak off his shoulders, revealing shiny golden pauldrons and a row of military medals formed entirely out of water-infused Arcara. As soon as his cloak left his shoulders, all the gold of his attire seemed to shine brighter, and the veil lifted from his spirit. The sheer force of flowing Arcara and quantity of mana blasted Nilsenir like a surge of wind high up in the atmosphere, though no air flowed. The strength of Karmion¡¯s core buzzed in the back of his neck, nearly pushing him to the ground. The two attendants were thrown back against the wall, and they fell lifeless to the ground, souls evaporated. In a deep voice, Karmion boomed, ¡°Do not tell me you understand. I have done everything in my power to hold this galaxy together, and you will tear it to shreds if you have your way.¡± We walked in a circle around Nilsenir. ¡°Dark forces lurk on our galaxy¡¯s borders, and the nebulae seethe. The strength of the Stream wanes, and the Mediator seeks only to keep balance, hm? She¡¯d kill me for it, she¡¯d kill me¡­¡± ¡°My lord¡ª¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished,¡± Karmion stomped his boot down, the force sending shivers up Nilsenir¡¯s arms. ¡°I gave you two years. Nearly a quarter of that time has passed. She is the only one in this galaxy who can rival my rule. She would pave the way for that Velaydian king, a mortal with no Spirit Potential, to rule. He knows nothing about power! I struggled to get where I am, climbing over thousands of other God-heirs to get where I am.¡± He shook his head. ¡°You sent a Captain after her, thinking it would be enough?¡± ¡°I sent my strongest, most prized pupil.¡± ¡°You sent your son, hoping to seize glory for your family.¡± ¡°My strongest. He has been punished for his failure, and I am doing my best to make amends¡ªevery hunter and pirate in the Tarrebian knows who to look for.¡± Nilsenir held up a hand, begging the Ocean God to let him continue. Before Karmion could unleash his fury, Nilsenir added, ¡°I didn¡¯t tell them what she was, only that she uses a starlight Path.¡± ¡°Some will put the dots together.¡± ¡°Some already have,¡± Nilsenir countered. ¡°But they will bring her in. So long as you stop the papers from publishing anything, and punish anyone who speaks openly about it¡­the galaxy will forget.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Karmion said, a satisfied smile seeping onto his face. He pulled his cloak back over his shoulders, and placed the veil back onto his spirit. ¡°I offer this final warning: be aware of your son, Nilsenir. Do not let him grow¡­defiant.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Vayra bit open a cartridge, then poured a dribble of gunpowder into the pistol¡¯s pan. She snapped the frizzen shut. Once she was satisfied that the powder wouldn¡¯t spill out, she poured the rest down the pistol¡¯s barrel and pushed a small shot down afterwards. The pistol¡¯s tiny ram rod was just enough to push the shot and powder to the back of the pistol. She gave it as much packing as she could, then pointed the pistol forwards. ¡°Decent loading speed,¡± Captain Pels said. ¡°Keep your arm a little higher.¡± ¡®And don¡¯t drop it this time!¡¯ Phason¨¦ added. Pels stepped behind her. ¡°Now, gently, pull the trigger¡ªit isn¡¯t a musket, and when it snaps, it¡¯ll feel a little awkward in your hand. Control it.¡± They stood on the Harmony¡¯s forecastle. They had set an empty rum bottle on the railing as a target, but no one expected her to hit it. The pistol was smoothbore, and the best she could do was point in the direction she wanted and shoot. Still, she aimed at the bottle as best as she could. She slid her finger onto the trigger and gave it a soft tug. Smoke puffed out of the pan, then a moment later, a shot blasted out the barrel with a fang of smoke and fire. It whipped off into the void, racing through the cocoon of Stream water around the ship and splashing into the iridescent water some great distance away. The pistol snapped back against the palm of her hand, but she clutched it tight. The impact still stung, but the pistol didn¡¯t fall out of her hand. She¡¯d held and fired muskets before, but the pistol was a little different. It was much harder to control. She shook it, letting the smoke clear from the barrel and letting it cool off. ¡°Good,¡± Pels said. ¡°Now, if you let your wrist be loose like that, you¡¯re going to have worse luck aiming.¡± He crossed his arms and walked back to the rum bottle, still perfectly intact. ¡°Stand on the other side of the forecastle. Keep shooting until you get lucky and shatter the bottle, and I¡¯ll let you keep the pistol. We¡¯ve got plenty of shots and powder.¡± For the rest of the day, she practiced loading and firing as fast as she could. About halfway through the day, Glade and Bremi arrived to check on her. Glade, however, had his own training to attend to, and he didn¡¯t stay long¡ªwhile they were on the ship, he had explained, there was no way Vayra would be in danger. Halfway through the afternoon, one of her shots grazed the neck of the rum bottle, shattering it. It wasn¡¯t a clean hit, but the bottle tumbled over the railing and careened into space. ¡°I¡¯ll count it,¡± Pels said, holding a minuteglass in his hands. ¡°We¡¯ll keep practicing until you can fire three times in a minute¡ªjust like a proper Redmarine.¡± Her face dropped, and she sighed. Her stomach was starting to grumble, and her hands ached from holding and firing the pistol. On Phason¨¦¡¯s recommendation, she had practiced firing with either hand, and both were sore now. But if she wanted to wield the scythe and use a pistol, she¡¯d need to be competent firing with both hands. ¡°But not today,¡± Pels told her. He smiled. ¡°Go get some food and relax. You did well.¡± She chuckled. ¡°You seemed to enjoy that¡­¡± ¡°Just a little, yep.¡± He tipped his hat, then set off towards the stern of the ship. ¡°Now, I¡¯m off to pester Glade and make him eat, too. Don¡¯t get into too much trouble.¡± Vayra headed first to the galley, where the cook had prepared dinner. He¡¯d boiled pucks of hardtack to make them pliable, then fried them in grease to make them pleasantly crispy¡ªa rare delicacy to celebrate the first day of a voyage. Strips of bacon accompanied the meal. Vayra brought her food down to the cargo hold where, in the middle of the barrels and supply crates, the crew had set up a makeshift common room. The Harmony was a small ship, without a wardroom or common space, so the officers and crew gathered together where they could. It was a small valley in the midst of the cargo, lit only by swaying lanterns. Off-duty sailors filled every crevice. Mr. Kertogg and Mr. Tressdott stood at the edge of the common room, faces appalled. The sailors tossed hexagonal playing cards down in a stack, laughing and jeering and (occasionally) gambling rum rations. Vayra stepped between the marines and whispered, ¡°Pels didn¡¯t have any problem with them gambling, especially if it made them closer with the officers.¡± ¡°How can the navy tolerate this?¡± Kertogg exclaimed. ¡°We should report¡ª¡± ¡°It does look fun, though.¡± Tressdott¡¯s beard shook, and he leaned closer, examining the game. ¡°Not you too! Dwarves wouldn¡¯t know proper fun if it collapsed their mine around them¡­¡± ¡°Have you played, Mediator?¡± Tressdott asked. ¡°No, but I¡¯ve watched,¡± she said, then took a bite of her meal. She hadn¡¯t fully grasped the rules of the game yet, and she didn¡¯t need to make a fool out of herself. As she ate, she navigated around the dwarven marine and leaned against a stack of barrels. The ship¡¯s cat watched the commotion from on top of the stack of barrels. Vayra glanced up at it for a second, then ripped off a chunk of bacon and placed it in the palm of her hand. Reaching up, she held the meat out to the cat. After a few seconds, she figured the cat wouldn¡¯t do anything. But as soon as she was about to pull her hand away, she felt a rough tongue scratching against the palm of her hand. When she looked up, the cat had snatched the bacon up. ¡°Good kitty,¡± Vayra whispered. Hesitantly, she reached a little higher and scratched under its chin. Its fur was soft and clean, and it purred. ¡°Making friends with Orlas, are you?¡± Vayra turned her head towards the voice¡ªshe spotted a sailor whose name she didn¡¯t know. The boy stood at the edge of the common area, watching the game. He was about as old as Bremi, though he was broader in the shoulders and had plain blonde hair. ¡°Orlas, the cat,¡± the sailor said. ¡°She¡¯s our ship¡¯s cat. Best mouse-hunter in the galaxy. At least, that¡¯s what your brother says.¡± The boy lowered his voice to a whisper and added, ¡°We work on the same watch, him and me.¡± ¡°Should¡­should I stop feeding her?¡± Vayra asked. They didn¡¯t need a mouse infestation because she taught their cat not to hunt. ¡°Well, I figure she could use all the food she can get,¡± said the sailor. ¡°She¡¯s gonna have a litter, on account of that tortoiseshell cat on Ramesworld, and she hasn¡¯t been hunting as much.¡± ¡°She¡¯s going to have kittens?¡± Vayra tried not to smile, but the thought of a litter of kittens running around the ship was hard to resist. ¡°Looks like it. Unless you¡¯ve been stuffing her belly so full that it¡¯s started to swell.¡± ¡°First time I¡¯ve managed to get close to her.¡± Before the sailor could respond, someone beckoned him over. Vayra spent the rest of the evening watching the card game and occasionally petting Orlas, before she decided to head off to bed for the evening. There would be plenty more to do tomorrow¡ªand every day after, until they arrived at their destination. [Extras] Christmas Special - Volume 2, Chapter 16.5 Alright, here it is! The Christmas Special! Everything is canon to the story, though it isn''t necessary for the story. Plus some fun, non-canon Christmas-themed art at the end. This slots in between Chapter 16 and Chapter 17 of Volume 2.
On the third day of the journey to Muspellar, Vayra awoke to a couple loud crashes, then a cheer. The ship¡¯s bell tolled once, but someone immediately dampened it. It must have been a mistake. Rubbing her eyes, Vayra sat up and groaned. Her arms were tired from loading and firing the pistol over and over again, and her ears ached from the consistent (not constant) banging. Either way, it had been a long few days, and she had been hoping to catch a little more sleep. ¡®I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll let us,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra rubbed her eyes again and stood up, then yawned and stretched as best as she could under the low roof of the officers¡¯ quarters. As soon as her fingers brushed the wooden roof, her stomach dropped. A bell had been tolling. ¡°Is something wrong? Do you sense anything that¡ª¡± ¡®Or you could listen,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra stopped moving. Aside from the rushing winds of the Stream, groaning and creaking wood, and faintly fluttering gossamyr sails, she heard nothing. Even her Streamrunning mask¡¯s candles had gone out¡ªthere would be no fizzling from them. Nothing, though? Not even footsteps? Vayra pushed aside the curtain that sectioned off her small chamber from the rest of the officers¡¯ quarters, her heart pounding, then crept out to the main deck. Along the way, she re-lit the candles in her mask with a lantern. The thin air of the Stream wasn¡¯t as disastrous to her body as it had been the first couple journeys along the Stream, but she still wasn¡¯t completely used to it yet. She burst out onto the main deck, hands raised and breathing quickly¡ªa cycling pattern conducive to combat. The deck was crowded with sailors and minor officers, but they all stood still and silent. They were looking over her head, at someone on the quarterdeck. Nobody seemed worried or concerned. In fact, most of them had some sort of smile. At least, they had been looking up. The moment she emerged, everyone turned to stare at her. She offered a shy wave, then lowered her arms and took a step away from the door, so she could see what they were all looking at. Captain Pels and most of the higher-ranking officers stood on the quarterdeck, but Pels stood at the very front railing, holding a clear, crystal glass willed with an enamel-coloured liquid. He was holding it like he had been making a toast, and his mouth was even open, as though she¡¯d caught him mid-sentence. ¡°Whoops,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going wrong¡­¡± Pels cleared his throat. ¡°According to the Decathe season-cycle, it¡¯s now Irrenber twenty-second. Might be summer on Thronehome, but back in Tavelle, there¡¯ll be heaps of snow everywhere. They¡¯ll be mumming and wassailing, and plenty of drinking and feasting.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. She¡¯d lost count of what day it would have been if she was still on Decathe, until now. Irrenber twenty-second. That was the winter solstice, and it¡¯d be cause for plenty of celebration. She rose up onto her tip-toes, looking for Bremi in the crowd of sailors. He stood near the back, poised on the railing and clinging to the ratlines. His mouth hung open, its edges curled up into a massive grin, and his eyes glimmered. ¡°Hence why we brought aboard those ten casks of ¡®nog!¡± Pels called. Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. Fawlchicken-milk, better known to some as eggnog. She¡¯d never had a chance to try any, but everyone who could afford it drank it on the winter solstice. Mr. Kertogg pushed to the front of the crowd, sputtering and brushing out his red coat. ¡°Captain Pels! Eggnog? Really?¡± The elven Redmarine threw his arms down. ¡°Never once has eggnog been served to the crew of a ship in the Royal Velaydian Navy, and¡ª¡± ¡°Untrue,¡± Mr. Tressdott countered, sprinting up beside his elven companion. ¡°The carpenters tell me they do this every year.¡± He cleared his throat, then nudged the elf¡¯s leg. ¡°We¡¯ve just never heard of it, ¡®cause they¡¯ve never gone blabbing ¡®bout it.¡± Pels tipped his hat at the two fuming marines, then looked up and addressed the entire crew. ¡°We¡¯ve rationed the ¡®nog out,¡± he said, calling to the entire crew. ¡°When your watch for the day is over, head to the galley and drink your fill!¡± The crew cheered, waving around their hats or simply raising a fist. Their reaction, Vayra suspected, meant the eggnog was fully-grogged¡ªmade with a heavy dose of rum. Pels glanced down at Vayra, then said, ¡°I expect a day of practice with your pistol before you can join the festivities.¡± Then, he lifted his mask up and took a sip from his glass. ¡°In eight hours, when the first watch is over, I expect to hear singing and all-around merry-making!¡± This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Vayra spent the rest of the day anticipating the celebrations. She worked for two watches in a row, waiting for the ¡°workday¡±¡ªthat was what she had taken to calling it¡ªof the crew she was most familiar with to end. It lined up with the schedules of Bremi and Glade perfectly. The rest of the day, she practiced loading and firing the pistol, until she managed to blast another empty rum bottle off the railing. Then, she helped the boatswain repair and grease a spool of ropes, and worked with some of the carpenters to fashion a divider in the cargo hold¡ªto store barrels of Stream water and keep them separate from the rest of the food. Then, she tended to Orlas, the ship¡¯s cat. It took a few hours, but finally, with another scrap of bacon, she convinced the tabby to approach her. While Orlas ate from her hand, Vayra tried grooming her fur with a makeshift wooden comb that she¡¯d been using on her own hair, but the cat scampered away before Vayra could get a grip. When the second watch began to gather in the galley after their shift, Vayra joined them. She lingered at the end of the line with Glade, who looked just as confused as the Redmarines had. After a few seconds of standing side-by-side, he asked, ¡°Have you ever tried eggnog?¡± ¡°Never had a chance.¡± She reminded herself that Glade wasn¡¯t from Decathe; he had been born on Thronehome, and the Velaydian capital had been his home for most of his life. ¡°Does Thronehome have a solstice festival?¡± ¡°Yes, but not for another half-year. The Order never participated, except to keep things civil if needed.¡± He paused, then scratched the back of his neck. ¡°Technically, Order members are not supposed to drink alcohol. But then again, the wassailing and masks is more of an¡­outer world tradition.¡± She nodded. ¡°Well, no better time to try than now. You¡¯ve already drank plenty of grog while on a ship.¡± ¡°There was no other choice.¡± Vayra shrugged. ¡°Right now, it¡¯s either eggnog and rum or water and rum.¡± ¡°Come on, Mr. White hair!¡± Bremi snickered, slipping past with a wooden cup in-hand. It was full of eggnog. ¡°Give it a try! You¡¯ll love it¡ªI mean, I love it, and I¡¯ve never had any before. So¡­¡± ¡°Now, don¡¯t drink too much,¡± Vayra hissed at her little brother. ¡°You¡¯ve never had a hangover before; it¡¯s not fun.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t! Just this one, I promise, alright sis?¡± ¡°Alright¡­¡± By the time they reached the front of the line, the cook had to open up another cask of eggnog. As he worked to peel off the top of the cast, Vayra began to hear the crew laughing from the deck below, in the makeshift common area. Someone started pounding his boots against the ground, making a thudding beat, and a few others joined in. They began to sing a carol. When Vayra reached the front of the line, the cook passed her a wooden cup. He sprinkled something on top of it, which could have been sawdust or nutmeg¡ªshe couldn¡¯t tell, and she didn¡¯t really want to know. It didn¡¯t taste like much. Glade took a glass hesitantly, too. He sniffed it then sipped it. His face cycled through a few expressions, then his eyes softened and he managed a bit of a smile. ¡°Alright, then. I did mine. You try yours, since you have never had any.¡± ¡°Sis isn¡¯t very good at holding liqueur,¡± Bremi called as he scampered off towards the common area. ¡°Don¡¯t expect much from her!¡± Vayra rolled her eyes. ¡°I can drink better than he can.¡± She sniffed the eggnog, but it smelled overwhelmingly like rum. A little bit of the brown powder sprinkled on top flew up her nose, and she began to cough. ¡°Yep, definitely sawdust.¡± She took a sip, letting the sweet, rich liquid envelop her tongue. It was like cream, but a little bit thicker, and much, much sweeter. Almost like the Namola elixir. Glade took a few more sips, then began to cough. ¡°Sorry, sorry. Apologies. It¡­uh, hit me in the back of the throat¡­¡± ¡°Ah, the mighty disciple, humbled by sawdust and rum. And some ¡®nog.¡± She began to walk, following Bremi towards the common area. The Decathan half-sea-shanty half-solstice-carol began to echo through the hold¡ªsomething about wanting snow on the day of the solstice. When she heard Glade¡¯s footsteps plodding along softly behind her, she added, ¡°It is nice to hear you being something other than a flat plank of wood, though.¡± ¡°Flat plank of wood?¡± Vayra snickered under her breath. ¡°You don¡¯t even have intonation when you talk, half the time.¡± ¡°I guess¡­being an Order disciple can preclude having a personality.¡± Vayra rolled her eyes. ¡°Doubt it. I just want to see you, the real you. Not the perfect disciple of Elder Eman-Fa.¡± ¡°I cannot just turn it off. It was how I was raised.¡± They took a set of narrow stairs down to the lowest deck of the ship and walked towards the common area. At the center, the previous watch had set up a mop in the center. It still perched in its bucket, tilting slightly. A few smaller wooden shards, debris from the carpenters¡¯ earlier work, had been bound to the broomstick with twine, like they were the branches of a small tree. A few lanterns hung from them, swaying with the roll of the ship. A solstice tree. Vayra leaned against the side of the wall, listening to the crew stomping while singing carols. She didn¡¯t know the words to many of them, and besides, she didn¡¯t trust her singing voice to be any good. Maybe if she ever figured out how to bolster her throat with Arcara, she could help herself sing in tune. But that would take practice, and for something so¡­not useful, how could she spare the time? ¡®I could sing for you,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Just get us a little drunk, and I¡¯ll do all the work while your mind is too busy sloshing around to resist me¡­¡¯ ¡°Or you¡¯ll just embarrass us both,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°You¡¯d still have to contend with my vocal cords.¡± She sighed, then leaned against the wall beside Glade. After a few seconds of watching the celebrations, she asked, ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll have any time to do anything but train? You know¡­ever? Is this my life now?¡± At first, Glade looked like he was going to assure her, but then he only shrugged. She took that as a ¡®yes¡¯. ¡°Well, today, we have nothing else assigned. I¡¯ve been up for sixteen hours, so what¡¯s eight more? What do you say we just sit here and do nothing?¡± Glade blew a puff of air out his nose, which made the candles in his mask flicker. ¡°Yes, alright. I wouldn¡¯t mind¡ªI mean, I would not mind that.¡± ¡°Great!¡± Vayra sat down, leaning against the smooth side of a barrel. ¡°Finish that drink, then tell me your favourite colour. And it better not be gray.¡± He snorted, then said, ¡°Some days, I wish it was. No, it is purple.¡± ¡°Purple?¡± Vayra paused to take a sip of her eggnog. ¡°Mine¡¯s always been blue.¡± ¡°A good choice. Like your eyes.¡± ¡°Like my eyes¡­¡± ¡°Alright, my turn.¡± A full smile crept onto his face. ¡°Favourite food, then. Let¡¯s do favourite foods¡­¡±
And lastly, an image. It''s AI generated, but I still liked it enough to share. No, Vayra probably wouldn''t ever have a chance to wear something like this in the story, but I thought it was fun. Chapter 17: Planet of Flame [Volume 2] After ten days, Vayra had started to develop a new routine. She¡¯d wake up every day and meditate for a little bit. She experimented with her Arcara while she meditated, pushing it in new patterns to see if anything helped, and she did her best to imagine it diffusing out of her channels. That lasted for about a half-hour every day. When, inevitably, she got frustrated, she walked out onto the main deck and began the easier training. For the morning, she practiced with her pistol¡ªfirst, firing it and reloading it as fast as she could, until it became second nature. Then, using it alongside her scythe. She and Phason¨¦ practiced pushing aside an enemy¡¯s weapon, before drawing her own pistol and quickly using it. To practice best, she ended up sparring with Glade, though she never loaded the pistol or used the real scythe when facing him. From the depths of the cargo hold, they had produced a damaged oar, and the carpenters had fashioned a wooden blade for the scythe. That way, if she messed up, she wouldn¡¯t kill Glade or cut a hole in the deck. On the tenth day, after a brief sparring match with Glade (he won this time, but her ratio of wins-to-losses against him was improving), they flopped down on the forecastle deck, panting. ¡°I have never had to fight someone with a scythe before,¡± he said. ¡°Excuses, excuses.¡± ¡°I still won.¡± ¡°This time.¡± She nudged him. ¡°One day, you won¡¯t be able to stop me.¡± ¡°I mean that it will give you a slight edge against more experienced opponents.¡± ¡°Ah, yeah,¡± she muttered. ¡°But I don¡¯t imagine it will be enough. Didn¡¯t help against the bounty hunter.¡± She tucked her pistol into her belt. ¡°And I don¡¯t suppose it will help against Myrrir.¡± ¡°Do you think he will still chase us?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him,¡± she said. There hadn¡¯t been a chance to; he¡¯d escaped before her Mediator Form could destroy him. ¡°I feel like he¡¯ll be after us at some point. Which is why we need to keep moving.¡± ¡°You will be stuck on Muspellar for a while,¡± Glade said. ¡°If you can convince Nathariel to train you, that is.¡± ¡°Well, at least Myrrir shouldn¡¯t be able to track us. We¡¯ll have to wait until he hears news about this, and that gives us time. Months, perhaps.¡± ¡°I hope¡ª¡± Before he could finish, the ship¡¯s bell started to toll. ¡°Planet!¡± a sailor yelled from the top of the foremast. ¡°Planet ahead!¡± As all hands rushed to their stations, Vayra and Glade ran back to the quarterdeck. She stopped at the front railing, watching the planet grow closer as best as she could through the wall of mist rising in front of the ship. Ahead, an enormous sphere of smouldering embers grew out of the void. It was a lone planet with no moons and no ring. The navigators had set out a map of the star system on their table, and they made measurements with calipers and jotted notes on scrap paper with quills. According to the map, Muspellar was far closer to the system¡¯s star than most habitable worlds, and Vayra doubted the regions around its equator were habitable. She looked forward again, staring at the planet again. Rivers of magma flowed away from the equator and snaked up the surface of the planet like it was a cracked marble. Near the poles, however, there was liquid water, and that was where the Stream connected¡ªthree branches to the north, and two to the south. Black clouds of ash and smoke wreathed the planet, and lightning crackled in them. They approached the north pole on a slender branch, racing towards the surface of the world. ¡°How are we going to get past the bluecoats?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°There will be bluecoats, right? Or Elderworld ships? If the planet is occupied by them.¡± ¡°I have a plan,¡± said Pels. He turned to one of the lieutenants and told him, ¡°Take down the Velaydian sigil and bring up a Yellow Jack. Make sure all the gun ports are sealed, and get all the marines below deck. And bring Mr. Fjallersyn up to the quarterdeck.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the lieutenant confirmed, then scampered away. ¡°The Yellow Jack,¡± Glade explained, ¡°is the quarantine flag.¡± Vayra raised her eyes. She thought she understood the plan. ¡°Pels, you don¡¯t think they¡¯ll notice the ship?¡± ¡°The Harmony isn¡¯t painted in traditional Velaydian colours,¡± he told her. ¡°They¡¯ll want to keep at a distance, and we¡¯ll look like a simple merchant vessel whose crew came down with a nasty cold.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. She nodded. The golden ornaments wouldn¡¯t be too obvious if there was little sunlight for them to reflect. They met no opposition on the Stream, even as they descended through the atmosphere, but when they arrived at the base of it, in the steaming water of the surface ocean, Vayra spotted an Elderworld frigate to the west, its hull painted black and white, and a three-deck ship of the line to the east. The frigate spotted them immediately and approached. By the time they reached the surface, they had the yellow checkered flag hoisted high on the mainmast. Mr. Fjallersyn, a carpenter with pointy ears and antlers, had been given a bicorne hat and a brass cone. He stood behind the wheel hub, looking bewildered but also determined. The frigate furled its sails a quarter-mile from the Harmony and let itself drift slowly. Its gun ports were open, and Vayra could see the crew¡ªand a large platoon of bluecoats¡ªseething on the deck. If they attacked, the Harmony would be painfully unprepared to protect itself. ¡°Identify yourself, galleon!¡± someone from the frigate shouted, his voice amplified and distorted by a brass cone. ¡°We are the merchant vessel Seid¡¯Narsyn Lakre,¡± Pels told Mr. Fjallersyn. ¡°Tell them that, if you will.¡± Mr. Fjallersyn shouted into the brass cone, but he spoke a foreign language. ¡°Perhaps one of their officers speaks Gatchben, but I find it unlikely,¡± Pels told Vayra. ¡°Thankfully, Mr. Fjallersyn will help us convince them that we are from Gatchsworld, even if they do.¡± She scrunched her eyebrows. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°No Velaydian officer would ever speak a language other than Galactic Common,¡± Pels said. ¡°It¡¯ll help us sell the disguise, and they¡¯ll leave us be as soon as they¡¯re convinced. ¡°Are there any officers who speak Galactic Common aboard your ship?¡± the man on the Elderworld frigate yelled. ¡°Bring them to your main deck immediately!¡± After a second of shuffling, Mr. Fjallersyn passed Pels the brass cone. Again, Pels introduced themselves. Then, he added, ¡°We are suffering from an infection of Brennen¡¯s Fever! Please do not board, for your own sake!¡± ¡°What is your purpose here, Seid¡¯Narsyn Lakre?¡± ¡°We have made an emergency stop to restock, and we will only send healthy sailors ashore!¡± For good measure, Pels coughed into the cone. ¡°Pels must have done a fair few smuggling jobs like this,¡± Vayra muttered to Glade. He laid a hand on his sword, rubbing its pommel. ¡°He knows a few tricks, it seems¡­¡± ¡°Glad they¡¯re on our side.¡± After a moment of deliberation, the Elderworld frigate announced, ¡°You may pass, Seid¡¯Narsyn Lakre! If we find that any of your sick sailors have come ashore, we will destroy your ship!¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± Pels shouted back. He lowered the cone, then turned back to Mr. Fjallersyn. ¡°Wonderful performance. Full sail, everyone! Get us closer to the shore!¡± The shore, as best as Vayra could see in the hazy volcanic haze, was a rigid and jagged wall of stone. If they sailed southeast, they would hit a cluster of lights. They headed southwest. As they sailed, she stared at the frigate until it disappeared into the dark gray mist. For the moment, she saw no more ships, and that should have been a good thing. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. She looked ahead, searching for anywhere they could take shelter¡ªa place where the waves wouldn¡¯t smash them against the rocks. The Harmony turned to sail parallel to the shore. Vayra ran to the larboard railing and peered ahead. After a few minutes of watching, her eyes felt tired. The air was hot and humid, and something in it made them itch slightly. The water steamed, and when she held her hand over it, she felt a faint, unpleasant heat. She¡¯d never truly felt a heat that was oppressive before today. The others must have noticed it, for sure, but they were used to noticing tropical heat. As she wiped her forehead, she pointed up ahead of the ship. The rocky shore curved inwards, forming a small bay where the water was shallow and the wind was calm. ¡°There!¡± she called. ¡°It¡¯ll be out of sight, and we won¡¯t be smashed to bits on the rocks!¡± Pels nodded, and he gave a string of orders. The coxswain spun the wheel and the crew adjusted the sails. As soon as they were safely within the bay, Pels gave the order to drop the anchors. A few seconds later, they latched onto the bottom of the sea, halting the ship. ¡°So, what¡¯s the play?¡± Pels asked. He marched over to the navigator¡¯s table and set a hand down on the corner, where a small map of Muspellar¡¯s surface rested. ¡°You have an entire planet to search through, and it doesn¡¯t sound like this Nathariel fellow really wants to be found by anyone.¡± ¡°There has to be someone we can ask,¡± Vayra said. She looked at the map. It wasn¡¯t very detailed, but Muspellar also wasn¡¯t heavily populated, and there weren¡¯t many cities to choose from. She located the village she had spotted earlier and tapped it. ¡°We should head into town.¡± ¡°The Elderworlds are not fond of Nathariel, either,¡± said Glade. ¡°We would be marking ourselves as enemies.¡± Vayra rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. It smelled faintly like sulfur, and she gagged. ¡°Nathariel hates God-heirs, right?¡± Glade nodded. ¡°According to King Tallerion.¡± ¡°So if we make him think that there¡¯s a God-heir here, he should come out and attack us, right?¡± Vayra hypothesized. ¡°As soon as we lure him out, we make a plea to him.¡± ¡°If he doesn¡¯t just strike you down,¡± Pels said. ¡°I feel compelled to remind you that he has techniques which severely injured a full-powered Mediator.¡± Vayra knew the risks, but she was running out of time. If she had to use her abilities, she¡¯d end up cycling and pushing herself closer to advancement. ¡°We just need to lure him out. Then, we can make our case. If he doesn¡¯t listen, we¡¯ll run.¡± Glade bit his lip, but he didn¡¯t protest. Pels shook his head. ¡°To the rowboats, then? We¡¯ll have to find a place to climb ashore¡­¡± Chapter 18: Port-Village Rumblings [Volume 2] The only place the rowboat could slip ashore was a small, barely-visible beach of black gravel near the back of the inlet. The pebbles were glassy, like fresh coal, and even beneath Vayra¡¯s boots, she could feel them poking up uncomfortably. The warm waves lapped up against her ankles. She trudged up the shore, following Glade, Pels, and Bremi. There was no proper path or trail through the maze of obsidian shards, but they knew which way to go to get to the village¡ªwalk along the shore, towards the lights in the haze. They set off. For a few hours, they navigated along the shore, keeping within sight of the steaming ocean at all times. When Vayra glanced inland, she saw nothing but a plane of obsidian shards and a distant range of dark mountains. To keep their disguises up, Pels had taken off his yellow coat and hat, and Glade had gotten rid of his coat and pulled a simple, tattered tricorn hat over his hair. At first, Vayra wasn¡¯t sure how she would hide her vibrant orange hair, so she braided it up and tied it into a loop on the back of her head, then put on a straw hat. A trio of sailors had helped them row ashore, but they didn¡¯t step ashore. It would be better if Vayra travelled with a small group. The sailors looked thankful for it. The lights of the village didn¡¯t seem to get any closer, until, after about an hour or two, they found a boardwalk running through the black shards. It was wide enough to fit a horse-drawn wagon, and instead of wagonwheel ruts, she noticed two lines of sooty debris running down the center. They entered the outskirts of the village, passing by a house of brown stone. Its walls were angular and sloped, and a round roof perched on top of it like a conical hat. Its windows were made of pale amber glass, which spilled orange light out onto the street. More and more houses began to crowd the edge of the road, all designed in a similar way. Each one had an exterior fire pit with a tall chimney¡ªhere, no one would have needed a fire to keep their house warm. The streets¡ªhere, they were even broader wooden boardwalks¡ªgrew steadily more busy as they approached the center of the city. All sorts of people crowded them, dressed in mismatched, sooty attire. Nothing was vibrant, not even the bluecoats. She spotted a small group of them at a street corner, and their coats were barely blue. The brass decorations on their masks and lapels were covered in a thick layer of dust. Their muskets were nearly black. Despite the busy streets, the city seemed eerily silent. Vayra kept her head down, trying not to attract attention. They didn¡¯t need the bluecoats after them just because they stood out from the crowd. But just because she kept her head down didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t spot the shadows slipping through alleyways or clinging to the stacked, round rooftops. She heard a musket click, then saw the glint of a silver bayonet. She cleared her throat, but Glade shook his head. He saw it too, but he must have figured it¡¯d be best to ignore it. ¡°I¡¯d bet a tavern or a pub would be the best place to start spreading rumours about a God-heir in town,¡± Pels said. ¡°If we can find one.¡± They turned away from the shore and headed inland, where the city gained a little elevation¡ªboth from taller buildings, but also because the ground began to slope upwards. A pair of bluecoats ran past, their gear clattering and their muskets clicking. Vayra looked at Glade and whispered, ¡°Is it just me¡­or is something about to go down?¡± ¡°It is not just you,¡± he said. Vayra didn¡¯t think she¡¯d ever seen him take his hand off his sword¡¯s pommel since they¡¯d arrived on the surface. She looked down at her pistol. It was loaded, but it wasn¡¯t cocked. ¡°Phason¨¦?¡± she muttered. ¡°Do you have the scythe ready?¡± ¡®I was just working on that,¡¯ she said. ¡®But¡­there are no stars. We won¡¯t be able to do much today¡ªtoo cloudy.¡¯ Vayra looked up. Even if it had been night time, she didn¡¯t imagine she¡¯d see any stars beyond the veil of soot clouds. She tucked her hands behind her back and scowled. If something happened, she would be without her magic. ¡°We need to do something about that.¡± ¡®I do have an idea,¡¯ the Goddess said. ¡®But you¡¯ll need to get¡­a little stronger for it to work. Say, Master¡¯s Mate, or Master.¡¯ ¡°I guess we¡¯ll just have to make do until then¡­¡± The road they walked down intersected with a larger street. Rather than a boardwalk, this street was paved with obsidian flagstones. The buildings around it were all three or four stories tall, and their roofs were wide enough to cast shade over the entire city. ¡°Any idea where the nearest tavern is?¡± Pels asked. Vayra shrugged, and Glade shook his head. As they walked, Pels took to asking the passersby. Most shrugged him off, but a few pointed down the street. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Vayra squinted up at the edge of the buildings. She spotted a shadowy form hunched behind a railing, and a pair of dark-cloaked figures in an alley across the street¡ªboth holding pistols. She wasn¡¯t being paranoid, was she? ¡®Not paranoid,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Though, I thought it was my job to be the overcautious one.¡¯ Vayra snorted. ¡°I¡¯d rather not have to deal with more bounty hunters.¡± ¡°Bounty hunters?¡± Glade whispered. ¡°I find it unlikely that these are bounty hunters¡ªthey could not know who you are.¡± ¡°Then¡­what are they?¡± ¡°Not everyone is terribly fond of the Elderworlds,¡± Glade said. ¡°There are many who fight back, however they can¡ªeven if Velaydia has not fought a battle for this world in a few years.¡± Pels tipped his head towards the end of the street, where a troop of bluecoats marched in front of a wagon. It was filled with casks, and crates of cannonballs. Behind it, two horses pulled a field cannon each. ¡°If they were looking for a target, then I think they¡¯ve found it. Or maybe they¡¯re just opportunistic, eh?¡± ¡°Resistance fighters?¡± Vayra asked. She glanced around. ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like something we should stick around for.¡± By now, the street was beginning to clear. People dodged out of the wagon¡¯s way, but she figured that there were others with the same idea as them. The next alley they found, they ducked away into. For a second, Vayra paused. She could afford to watch, just a little, to see what happened. ¡°Best not to stick around,¡± came an old, scratchy voice from one of the alcoves. Vayra glanced around, searching for the voice¡¯s source. In an alcove, she spotted an elderly woman with a bag of yarn in one hand and a cane in the other. ¡°You¡¯re not from around here,¡± the woman stated. ¡°Not often we see travellers in a lowly village-port like this¡­but they never know what to do when the brawls start¡­¡± ¡°What to¡­do?¡± Vayra pressed her back against the wall and held her breath. Pels and Glade looked back at her. ¡°There¡¯ve been attacks every week for the past couple months,¡± the woman said. ¡°Bluecoats¡¯ve started arresting anyone nearby. Never see ¡®em again.¡± Vayra winced, then looked back at the street. It had cleared almost entirely, except for a few stragglers. ¡®Don¡¯t even think about going back there without the stars out,¡± Phason¨¦ snapped. ¡®Unless you want to get¡ª¡¯ Before Phason¨¦ could finish speaking, a boom reverberated in Vayra¡¯s eardrums. A wave of dust blasted past, and the ground buckled beneath her feet. She fell to her knees to catch her balance, and when she looked up, the old woman was gone. A door in one of the walls swung shut. ¡°Come on!¡± Pels snapped, waving them down the alley. Vayra wiped her eyes with her arm and sprinted down the alley behind Pels and Glade. It was cluttered with crates and boxes, and when she rounded a corner, a set of nets hung across the alley, blocking their path. Glade hacked through them with his sword, then they continued onwards. As they ran, Vayra heard muskets and pistols banging behind her. She drew her own pistol, and so did Pels. They rounded another corner and took a short flight of stairs up. At the top, the alley ended, depositing them on another street. A cluster of bluecoats was sprinting past, but they stopped when Vayra and the others emerged from the alley. ¡°You there!¡± the bluecoat at the head of the cluster yelled. ¡°Stop right there!¡± Vayra stumbled to a halt, her boots skittering on the black paving stones. ¡°We¡¯re just¡ª¡± Pels pointed his pistol and blasted one of them. Left with no other choice, Vayra cocked hers and fired it as well. They ducked back into the alley just in time to avoid a volley of return fire from the bluecoats. Glade drew his sword, but they were cornered, now. By the time the bluecoats got within striking range, he¡¯d have a hole in his chest. ¡°Back the way we came!¡± Vayra hissed, pointing back down the alley. ¡°Run, before they catch us!¡± They sprinted back down the alley in the opposite direction, retracing their path. When they emerged back on the main street, it looked like a battlefield. The wagon was overturned and the horses were dead, and fires burned all across the road. Bodies sprawled across the street¡ªboth bluecoats and dark-robed ambushers. The bluecoats sheltered behind the wreckage of their wagons or the corpses of their horses, but the ambushers attacked from all directions, firing their muskets as fast as they could. Off to the side, she spotted a few ambushers fighting off a few bluecoats with bayonets and sabers. Vayra pressed her back against the wall and reloaded her pistol as fast as she could. Her fingers shook, and she fumbled with the ram rod. The bluecoats¡¯ footsteps pounded in the alley behind them. ¡°They¡¯re going to catch us.¡± She rammed the shot and powder down the pistol¡¯s barrel as quickly as she could, and she cocked it. ¡°Get across the street,¡± Pels said. ¡°Keep running until we find a place to lie low.¡± He raced out of cover and, keeping his head low, sprinted halfway across the street to hide behind an abandoned set of crates. A man in a dark robe charged at him, and he fired his pistol. The shot hit the man¡¯s shoulder, toppling him. Vayra and Glade broke out of cover as well. Glade hacked through a bluecoat with a precise swing while Vayra dove into cover beside Pels. She peered over the crates, and spotted the bluecoats readying their field cannons. They aimed for a tall building with stacked conical roofs, where a large portion of the musketfire erupted from. Vayra fired her shot in their general direction. It hit one of the gunners, but there were enough to still fire their cannons. Both were loaded with grapeshot. With an explosion of smoke, the cannons spewed tiny pellets into the building. On the main floor, an ambusher was reduced to red mist. All of the building¡¯s windows shattered, and an awning collapsed. ¡°Keep moving!¡± Pels said. Vayra pointed to another alley on the opposite side of the street, where she couldn¡¯t see any ambushers or bluecoats. She flipped her pistol over in her hand, ready to use it as a club, then sprinted out from behind the crates. Chapter 19: Resistance [Volume 2] A volley of musketfire blasted through the bluecoats hiding behind the wagon, and a group of ambushers in dark robes ran towards it. They cracked open the barrels, revealing black gunpowder inside. Cheering and hollering, they hoisted the barrels and ran off to the edge of the street with their prize. Once the ambushers made it back to safety, one rolled a small, fuse-powered bomb towards the cannoneers. It detonated after a second, knocking the canoneers off their feet and destroying the field cannons¡¯ carriages. But there were still more bluecoats. They fired volley after volley at the buildings. Surely, they hit something. Both sides were distracted enough that Vayra could sprint past them. She pressed her back up against the stone wall of one of the buildings on the other side of the street, then inched towards the empty alleyway. ¡®Varya, above you!¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. Vayra¡¯s head snapped upwards. Above was a ramshackle wooden balcony. A pair of ambushers pointed their muskets down at her. She dove to the side, skidding along the ground with her bracers. Both of the shots blasted into the stone where she had been standing. She kicked out the rickety supports of the balcony, collapsing it. It tumbled to the ground and collapsed into a puff of dust and splinters. Both of the ambushers leapt to their feet. They already had bayonets fixed to their muskets. Vayra scrambled back along the ground, trying to climb back to her feet. Her hat toppled off her head, and her braid spilled out over her shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re not your enemy!¡± They hesitated for a second once her hat fell off, but Vayra doubted her words would matter to them. Pels had just shot one of their brethren, and they must have seen it. The closest of the two, a woman with dark hair, lunged at Vayra with her bayonet. Vayra rolled to the side, then clubbed the woman¡¯s thigh with her pistol. She leapt to her feet, just in time to sidestep the second ambusher¡¯s jab. She grabbed his musket¡¯s barrel and tugged it out of his hands. It was warm from having just been fired, but not unbearable to touch. She bashed the woman with the butt of the musket. The woman¡¯s head snapped to the side and crashed into the wall. With her pistol, Vayra clubbed the man in the wrist, then in the bicep. He lunged forward, trying to grab her shoulders. Ducking away from his grasp, she struck him in the forehead with the pistol¡¯s handle. He, like his companion, fell to the ground¡ªlimp but not dead. Vayra scrambled into the alley, but it wasn¡¯t as empty as it had been before. A pair of bluecoats ran through it. The first one looked just as shocked to see her as she felt. He thrust forward with his bayonet. Vayra ducked aside, but the steel blade still slit her bicep. Before she could retaliate, Glade jumped into the alley, slashing at the bluecoats. With a whirl of his sword, he killed them both. Pels followed Glade into the alley, running backwards. He fired his pistol into the street, hitting another ambusher. The man held a small bomb in his hands, and it exploded as he fell to the ground, throwing chunks of obsidian and wood up into the air. The three ran down the alley as fast as they could. Vayra pushed on every door they passed, until she found one that wasn¡¯t locked. It swung inwards, and she ran inside. The room was dark, and it appeared to be a cellar of some sort¡ªexcept there was nothing in it. As soon as Pels and Glade ran inside, she pushed the door shut and locked it with the chain. With a sigh, she slumped down against the door. Aside from the light creeping under the cellar¡¯s door, there were no other gaps in the wall to let in light. Pels found a lantern along the far wall and lit it with the firing mechanism of his pistol, then set it in the center of the room. ¡°We¡¯ll just wait for things to cool off,¡± he said. ¡°Then we can find a place to get started.¡± First, Vayra tried loading the musket she¡¯d grabbed from the ambusher, but the extra shots she had for her pistol were too small and would slide right out of the barrel. Instead, she took the bayonet off and tucked it into her belt, then reloaded her own pistol. Once she was satisfied that she could at least fight off another bluecoat if she had to, she stepped away from the door and leaned against a far wall on the other side of the cellar. She reached into her haversack and first, she produced a bandage. She wrapped one around her bicep to stop her clear blood from trickling down her arm. The wound had been caused by a steel bayonet. She pursed her lips, then pulled out her case of elixirs. Since she¡¯d caught the wound early, and it had been clean (not rusty) steel, the Namola elixir would have no trouble cleaning up the iron poisoning. She pulled the stopper out of the faintly-glowing pink liquid and took a small sip. She wouldn¡¯t need much. It was sweet, and nothing else, and it tingled as it slid down her throat. When it reached her stomach, it began to swirl around. The Namola elixir had potent spirit energy, and she would need to be careful cycling it. There wasn¡¯t much, but right now, she needed to be as inefficient as possible when integrating it into her Arcara. She tucked it back into the elixir case, then tucked the case back into her haversack. For a few minutes, they waited in silence, listening to the distant crackle of gunfire start to slow down. A few more minutes, and the popping of muskets stopped entirely. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. She would be willing to bet that the bluecoats overwhelmed the ambushers¡ªgiven their numbers. Standing up, Pels reached for the doorknob, but Glade said, ¡°We should wait longer. Give it an hour, so we can be certain that they are gone and that we have no enemies waiting for us outside, or¡ª¡± Before Pels could step back, someone pounded on the door. ¡°Open up! We know you¡¯re in there!¡± ¡°What was that about no enemies?¡± Pels cocked his pistol. Vayra drew hers and did the same. Someone kept pounding on the door. The boards creaked. It wasn¡¯t sturdy, and with more time, they¡¯d pound it down. Vayra ran to the other side of Pels and pushed her back against the wall, just beside the door. ¡°Who is it?¡± she yelled. ¡°You know well enough!¡± a gruff, deep voice called back. The voice didn¡¯t have an Elderworld accent; it couldn¡¯t have been a bluecoat. A resistance fighter, then? ¡°Bluecoats can¡¯t kill all of us, not when we¡¯ve gotten what we wanted! Now let us in, or we¡¯ll bust down the door!¡± ¡°We aren¡¯t your enemies!¡± Vayra called back. ¡°Yet you took out five, six, of ours!¡± She glanced at Pels, then Glade. Glade ran up to the door, holding his sword ahead of him. ¡°What do you want?¡± he yelled back. ¡°Perron Yawls wants a word with you!¡± Vayra tilted her head, then whispered, ¡°Perron Yawls?¡± ¡°The¡­resistance leader in this sector?¡± Glade said, his voice soft. ¡°That might be her name, but I cannot remember for certain.¡± ¡°What does she want with us?¡± Vayra called. ¡°We¡¯re under orders!¡± another, softer voice replied. ¡°If we see a female phoenix, we¡¯re to bring her to the Camp immediately! And believe me, I¡¯d very much like to bring you in. The hard way!¡± ¡°You tried to kill us, too!¡± Vayra called back, nursing her arm. ¡°The heat of the battle,¡± the same man replied. ¡°We¡¯ll call it even, though you took much more from us.¡± Vayra grimaced, then whispered to Pels and Glade, ¡°Do we have any choice?¡± ¡°Unless you have another way out of here,¡± Pels said. ¡°I¡¯d suggest we cooperate.¡± She unhooked the chain from the back of the door and unlatched it, then pulled it open slowly. Glade kept his sword angled towards the intruders, and Pels pointed his pistol, his finger hovering over the trigger. The resistance fighters stepped inside, holding their muskets at the ready. They wore loose brown robes. Two were orcs, and the other was a human, and they all scowled. ¡°So, phoenix¡ªand her companions¡ªwill you come with us?¡± ¡°Why should we?¡± Vayra stepped back from the door and pointed her pistol at them as well. At such close range, she couldn¡¯t miss. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try that,¡± said the fighter in the lead, an orc with a long ponytail of black hair. ¡°Three muskets on two pistols. All of you go down, not all of us.¡± ¡®Vayra, I really think you should cooperate,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Slowly lowering her pistol, Vayra met the gazes of the resistance fighters. ¡°Where is your camp, then?¡± ¡°The Camp is here, on this planet,¡± said the human. He reached into his pack and produced three hemp sacks. ¡°We can¡¯t have you seeing the journey.¡± Vayra scowled, but there was no point in resisting. ¡®Remember, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ asserted. ¡®They are on the same side as you. They might be able to help you.¡¯ She stepped back and nodded. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll go with you.¡± She wasn¡¯t sure how long the journey took, until they pulled the sack off her head. It was nighttime, and the haze in the sky had thinned enough that she could see faint pinpricks of stars. For a moment, she contemplated leaping to her feet and attacking the resistance fighters with her scythe, but she stopped herself. They sat in the back of a wagon. It was full of resistance fighters, all wearing mismatched garb and carrying some type of firearm. She figured they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to use the weapons if they wanted. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± said one of the orcs, who Vayra now guessed was pretty high-ranking in the resistance. ¡°The Camp.¡± Vayra glanced around, trying to observe her surroundings. Everything looked much the same, except the dark mountains were much closer, and the shards of black rock surrounding them were much taller. They overshadowed the path, nearly three stories tall, and some even leaned overhead like the canopy of an enormous forest. Vayra only caught glimpses of the distant Stream over her shoulder. Glade and Pels sat in the wagon beside her. She could safely say that she had no idea where they were. Ahead, the shards of stone peeled away into a broad clearing. The floor was black gravel, pressed flat by hundreds of boots. Ramshackle huts were scattered all around the clearing, with steeper conical roofs and campfires outside. None had any glass or stone, though she did spot a couple forges¡ªthe blacksmiths were hard at work, even late in the evening. Everywhere she looked, she saw someone who she could safely say looked like they belonged in a resistance. They didn¡¯t wear a uniform, nor the robes of the ambushers, but they all wore tattered, dark attire. Some wore more formal coats, and some looked like pirates¡ªwith large hats and bushy plumes. Others seemed content to simply blend into the stone, polishing and cleaning their muskets and swords. The pair of orcs and humans led Vayra, Glade, and Pels off the wagon. A few hours ago, before they had gotten on the wagon, her hands had been bound by a rope, but she knew that she could break out easily enough if she conjured her scythe. Phason¨¦ did have the scythe ready, right? ¡®It¡¯s been in my lap all afternoon. Awaiting your command. Or, for you to see a star or two.¡¯ Vayra rolled her eyes. ¡°Thanks, Phas.¡± ¡®You¡¯re¡­you¡¯re welcome.¡¯ The resistance fighters led them to a large hut at the center of the Camp. A ship could have fit across it, and its roof was high enough that Vayra would have been comfortable calling it a hall. The orcs pushed open the front doors, but before Vayra, Pels, and Glade entered, a set of robed guards on the front porch took their weapons from them. ¡°If you were concerned, you should have taken them while we were in the wagon¡­¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°You weren¡¯t going before Perron Yawls,¡± one of the orcs said. ¡°Get a move on. She doesn¡¯t have all day.¡± Chapter 20: In the Halls of the Resistance [Volume 2] The orcs pushed Vayra, Glade, and Pels into the hall. It was a large, round room with a high ceiling. Rafters criss-crossed overhead, and orange stained-glass lanterns hung from them, casting a deep amber light around the room. The floor was made of wooden boards, and thin furs covered it, which shifted when Vayra walked on them. She glanced around, searching for the windows. If she needed a quick escape, she would need a glimpse of starlight. There were a few, but it would be a long sprint to get to them, and she wasn¡¯t sure if she could make it before someone stopped her. At the end of the hall, a chair waited. It wasn¡¯t quite a throne, but it was carved and ornate, and it wasn¡¯t quite as ash-stained as some of the room¡¯s other furniture¡ªblack tables, stools, and benches. For a few seconds, the throne remained empty, but a middle-aged woman looked up from her work¡ªstudying maps on a table¡ªand walked over to it. She dropped herself down on the throne with a sigh. As far as Vayra could tell, she was human. She wore a simple, brown coat, unbuttoned, and a pale blouse beneath it. A sash ran across her chest, where three pistols hung. The two orcs dipped their heads respectfully and said, ¡°Perron Yawls.¡± They motioned towards the woman. ¡°Is there something you¡¯d like with us?¡± Captain Pels asked. ¡°You want us to run errands for you, eh?¡± ¡°I¡¯m more interested in her,¡± Perron pointed at Vayra. ¡°It wasn¡¯t long ago that I was on Terreau, and saw a bounty poster for someone who fits your description. A God-heir using a starlight Path. I figure, you either are who I think you are, or you could be a great ally. If I play my cards right.¡± One of the orcs stepped up to Perron¡¯s side and leaned closer, then whispered, ¡°She and her companions killed a bunch of your men. She might not be as firmly on our side as you think.¡± Perron exhaled quickly. ¡°Indeed, it sounds like she¡¯s gotten up to quite a bit of trouble.¡± ¡°It was in the heat of the battle, ma¡¯am,¡± Vayra held up her hands. ¡°They were attacking everyone, and we had no choice but to protect ourselves.¡± ¡°That is what I figured,¡± Perron said. ¡°But it won¡¯t ease the news of their loss¡ªespecially not to their comrades.¡± ¡°Who do you think she is?¡± Glade demanded. ¡°Impatient,¡± Perron scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s too hard to guess, truly, once we saw she was a half-phoenix. Either she¡¯s a God-heir in Phason¨¦¡¯s line, or she is the Mediator herself.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. It wasn¡¯t a surprise, and she supposed she should be thankful, because her identity was the only reason the resistance spared her, but it was also the only reason she had been dragged inland to attend an audience with Perron. She contemplated the options. She could lie. How likely would it be that she was just a God-heir in Phason¨¦¡¯s line? ¡®Unlikely¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®I only had one¡­relationship, and it was before I ascended to Godhood. Besides¡­there was pretty much no way children were coming out of that one.¡¯ Vayra thought, No way? ¡®Wasn¡¯t exactly with a man.¡¯ Ah. Vayra couldn¡¯t stop herself from blushing. ¡°Is something wrong, miss?¡± Perron asked. ¡°Or have I guessed correctly?¡± Glancing around at all the other guards and resistance fighters, Vayra stepped forward. They were on the same side. She had no reason to hide anything. She dipped her head, then said, ¡°I¡¯m Vayra. And¡­yes, I am the Mediator.¡± After a short pause, Perron said, ¡°It is an honour to meet you.¡± Again, another pause. ¡°But¡­I must inquire, what are you doing here on Muspellar? You don¡¯t seem too¡­aware of the resistance, and I don¡¯t imagine you were here to help us.¡± Vayra gulped. She didn¡¯t know how to answer. ¡®They might be able to help us,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®We could do with a more direct approach¡ªinstead of spreading rumours and hoping that, in a few months, they reach Nathariel.¡¯ ¡°We¡¯re looking for someone,¡± Vayra told them. ¡°We were hoping to find Nathariel Hayden Layre.¡± ¡°Why him?¡± Perron snarled. ¡°He causes nothing but problems whenever he turns up.¡± ¡°That sounds like the Order¡¯s understanding of him,¡± Glade commented. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Problems?¡± ¡°Problems.¡± Perron stood up from her chair and marched towards Vayra. ¡°Last time we encountered him, he put a halt to our ambush. Too much collateral damage, he said, and that we were no better than the Elderworld God-heirs.¡± She shook her head. ¡°He doesn¡¯t understand that nothing will get done if we don¡¯t act. If we want Karmion gone, we have to stand up to him. And more people have to rise up than just us.¡± Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°I have a¡­block in my advancement,¡± Vayra told Perron cautiously. ¡°The Order of Balance hasn¡¯t been able to help me. We were hoping that Nathariel, being as strong as he is, might be able to advise me.¡± The guards, and everyone else in the resistance, began to murmur with each other. One of the orcs snapped, ¡°And why should we tell you where he is?¡± ¡°Ah, so you know?¡± Captain Pels pointed a finger at the orc, then at Perron. ¡°If you could just tell us, we¡¯ll be right on our way.¡± ¡°And put a valuable weapon such as her,¡± Perron motioned towards Vayra, ¡°in the hands of a madman? It¡¯s just as likely that he¡¯d set her Arcara aflame and roast her from the inside out than help her.¡± ¡°And if I can¡¯t advance past Quartermaster?¡± Vayra demanded. ¡°Would you rather your weapon be a slingshot or a field cannon?¡± Perron scowled, then stomped back to her throne and sat down. ¡°Then it must also benefit the resistance.¡± ¡°We have a ship, and we have a crew,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Captain Pels is quite the smuggler, and he has experience with piracy. I¡¯m sure he could put his skills to good use for you while I trained with Nathariel.¡± ¡°Vayra¡­¡± Glade said, a warning tone in his voice. ¡°That¡­would go against the terms of my freedom,¡± Pels added. ¡°Have you never heard of privateering?¡± Vayra crossed her arms. ¡°If you only take Elderworld ships¡ªeither capture them or destroy them¡ªyou¡¯d be serving Velaydia and the resistance.¡± She paused, then added, ¡°And me, if that makes it any better.¡± ¡°I accept,¡± Perron said. ¡°Captain Pels, if you agree to capture Elderworld ships for us, I will tell Vayra where to find Mr. Hayden.¡± She held out her hand. Vayra glanced at Pels, then grimaced. ¡°It¡¯s your crew¡­¡± ¡°I can be a damn good privateer,¡± he said. ¡°But only in the service of Velaydia. If this lady makes me go after anything but an Elderworld warship, the deal is off.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good with that,¡± Vayra said. Pels walked forwards and clasped Perron¡¯s hand. Before he shook it, he said, ¡°Me and my crew get to keep three quarters of the plunder. You get the ships.¡± ¡°Acceptable,¡± Perron said. Pels shook her hand. ¡°You¡¯ve got yourself a deal, Ms. Yawls.¡± ¡°Now, Nathariel,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Where can we find him?¡± Perron waved Vayra over to the map table. It was covered with a single map, a hand-drawn and inked depiction of the surface of Muspellar. Tiny carved-wood models rested on top of it, depicting bluecoats, ships, and cannons. Near the north of the planet, where the sea occupied a bar along the top quarter of the map. Perron slapped a hand onto the map, covering a slice of the shore where Vayra figured the vague location of the Camp was. ¡°How am I supposed to bring you treasure if you don¡¯t show me where I¡¯m supposed to bring it?¡± Pels grumbled. ¡°We¡¯ll be in touch, Captain,¡± said one of the orcs. Keeping one hand over the map, Perron drew a line to the south with her finger. ¡°Nathariel has taken up residence south of the Farats Range.¡± ¡°Farats Range?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°The mountains?¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± With her finger, Perron traced a river down from the ocean. ¡°This river, the Rallemflow, heads inland. It leads to an underground spring and passes under the mountains, then through the other side for a little while. Nathariel has always lived near the river, so he has a source of mana¡ªthere are always wisps of Stream water still in it. We don¡¯t know exactly where he lives, though it¡¯s certainly on the other side of the mountains.¡± ¡°I thought you knew where exactly,¡± Vayra grumbled. ¡®I¡¯m starting to think this deal wasn¡¯t exactly worth it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. At least Pels would end up with some money they could put to use when this was done. Hopefully. They could buy weapons, magic resources, the lot. ¡°At least you won¡¯t be searching the whole planet, hoping for the best,¡± Perron replied. ¡°For your own good, it isn¡¯t wise to travel through the mountains via the river. It¡¯s treacherous, and there are plenty of falls. No riverboat captains will sail through the mountains, and for good reason.¡± ¡°Are there any passes we can take?¡± Vayra looked at Glade. ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re coming with me, right?¡± ¡°I will,¡± he said. ¡°Before you make your choice, please hear me out,¡± Perron replied. ¡°There are a few passes over the mountains, though you¡¯re just as likely to be incinerated in a volcanic eruption as you are to make it through. Unless you happen to be especially skilled at magic, which I don¡¯t think you are. If you want to get past the mountains, you¡±¡ªshe pointed at Vayra specifically¡ª¡°will have to head through the Night Vale Chambers.¡± Vayra stared at Perron with a blank expression. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t expect us to know what that is.¡± Perron chuckled. ¡°A set of old ruins. They head deep below the surface. They were there before we¡¯ve ever been there, and they aren¡¯t just on Muspellar. On plenty of other planets, too, and the powerful God-heir families can sometimes pull ancient treasures from them. Arcara-enchanted treasures, sometimes.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows. ¡°There¡­are treasures in the Night Vale Chambers?¡± ¡°You might find some if you delve deep. But I wouldn¡¯t suggest that. Delving deep into the chambers is incredibly unwise¡ªeven the Kudmen Chambers Company has trouble in the deeper parts. Just stay at the top and get through quickly, and you¡¯ll reach the other side in no time.¡± Vayra nodded, but Glade said, ¡°This does not seem wise. These ruins are best left for high-stage God-heirs, not for a Quartermaster-stage Mediator who needs to be wary about how much she cycles.¡± ¡°I might be somewhat fire-resistant, but I won¡¯t survive a volcanic eruption,¡± Vayra told him. ¡°You¡¯d not make it over the pass, either.¡± ¡°And, hold up a minute,¡± Perron raised the hand that she wasn¡¯t using to cover the map. ¡°The entrances near the surface were made by the Kudmen Chambers Company for testing recruits and explorers. Only one of you will be allowed through by the gates every day.¡± ¡°So¡­I guess Glade can¡¯t come,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Unless I waited a day for him.¡± ¡°It¡¯s best not to linger in the Night Vale,¡± said one of the orcs. ¡°I passed through there once, and I barely made it out alive. There¡¯re things in the chambers, monsters like you couldn¡¯t imagine. Hold still too long, and they¡¯ll get you.¡± Glade lowered his head, then said, ¡°Then I have no choice. I will wait outside the chambers for Vayra to return.¡± After a couple short mumbles of agreement, everyone set out for the night. Perron allowed them to stay in the Camp for the night, but in the morning, they would need to set off¡ªand the sooner, the better. Chapter 21: Contest of Heirs [Volume 2] Myrrir was sailing on a branch of the Stream, heading past the galactic core, when a small sloop appeared behind them, its lanterns flashing and signal flags flapping. It took them a few minutes of sailing to realize that the ship wanted him to stop. He ordered the crew of the Hyovao to raise the sails and pull the Streamrunning fins out of the water. There was nothing more they could do except drift, and eventually, slow down enough that the other ship could latch on without tearing the both of them to pieces. He wasn¡¯t sure what to expect. Its flag wasn¡¯t a pirate flag; it was brown with a crest on it that he couldn¡¯t make out from a distance. ¡°Keep alert,¡± he told Tye as the small sloop drifted up beside them. The vessel only had three cannons on each side, and a single deck. Its mast was crammed with as many sails as possible, though they were all folded currently. They could be pirates, but surely, they wouldn¡¯t be willing or able to take on the crew of the Hyovao. Myrrir wouldn¡¯t let them set a single foot on his ship. The sloop¡¯s crew ran a gangplank across from their deck to the Hyovao¡¯s bulwark. Clearly, someone wanted to talk. Myrrir ran down to the main deck, his hand on the hilt of his sword. His flask of gunpowder bounced at his hip, ready to use, and he cycled his Arcara as quickly as he could, preparing for trouble. He stepped up onto the gangplank. The crew of the sloop, a host of dirty mothfolk in mismatched uniforms, all stepped back. Mothfolk. He snorted, and he had a suspicion who the ship belonged to. He looked up at the flag flying on the mast. Now, much closer, he could see the crest of the Victra Family¡ªa golden spool of silk. The other side of the gangplank shuddered. Wren jumped down from the mast, landing on the gangplank in a crouch. Myrrir knew the bounty hunter didn¡¯t have the Mediator; there was no way someone like her would have succeeded. But he feigned ignorance. ¡°Did you complete your task already? I¡¯ll need to see the Mediator before I give you the rest of the gold.¡± ¡°You got my fish?¡± Wren asked. She stood up, her wings folding behind like a cape. Once they were neatly tucked, she dropped down again and sat cross-legged on the gangplank. Myrrir nodded. ¡°I received the message, correct.¡± ¡°And you left Larin VI. Unreliable and unappreciative as ever, I see.¡± ¡°You¡­know me?¡± Wren huffed, then crossed her arms. ¡°I encountered you on Mascant a few times, maybe six or seven years ago. You were on the brink of Captain, at the peak of First Lieutenant, and completely unappreciative of all the progress you had made.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t recall you.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°What do you want, then?¡± Myrrir stepped closer. ¡°More time? I didn¡¯t impose a limit.¡± To be certain, he let his Arcara flow in a fast cycling pattern while he was close to her, just so she would sense his full spirit. Perhaps, depending on how weak she was, it might weigh her down. Wren didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°No need to exert pressure,¡± she said, raising her hands. ¡°I¡¯m at Third Lieutenant, flat.¡± Myrrir nodded. She wasn¡¯t cycling, but he could sense the strength of an elixir swirling in her veins somewhere. She¡¯d¡­had one recently, at least. The Victra Family would¡¯ve had the funds for the best. ¡°I want to know why you thought that sending me after the Mediator¡ªyour prize¡ªwas a good idea,¡± she said. Was that earnest honesty blazing in her eyes and voice, or was she just really bad at hiding her curiosity? ¡°If I had caught her, I¡¯d just have brought her to Karmion. Straight to him.¡± ¡°Perhaps I had trusted you to honour your word.¡± She let out an exaggerated laugh. ¡°No, no, Captain Myrrir. In the Tarrebian? No one would keep their word unless they swore on their soul, and besides, half of those drunkards don¡¯t even believe in God-heirs. I know you wouldn¡¯t trust them.¡± Myrrir folded his hands behind his back, unwilling to rise to the challenge. ¡°I suspect you didn¡¯t think that I¡¯d be capable of it in the first place,¡± Wren said. ¡°Which I have to say, makes me wonder about your plan, especially when you were already leaving Larin VI after you received my fish.¡± ¡°So you want me to tell you my plan?¡± Myrrir had to admit that he was confused by her earnesty. ¡°I came here to tell you that I¡¯d keep pursuing the Mediator, and that I would catch her.¡± ¡°After admitting you planned to bring her straight to Karmion, and not to me.¡± After a short pause, Wren nodded. ¡°Yeah, pretty much. But I also came to tell you that she was heading southwest, away from Thronehome. Seems like she uncovered something in the Order of Balance Temple library.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Why tell me this?¡± he inquired. ¡°Make it a competition, let¡¯s say,¡± Wren said. ¡°You don¡¯t think much of me, and I¡¯ll prove that I, not a God-heir, can do just as much as one.¡± Myrrir sighed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be.¡± ¡°I want it to be.¡± Wren hopped to her feet and turned around. ¡°I work better when I feel slighted. Spite is the best elixir in the galaxy.¡± She hopped off the gangway and signalled for her crew to haul the gangplank away. ¡°Good luck, Myrrir!¡± After a few seconds, the sloop¡¯s crew raised the wooden board. A few more, they lowered their Streamrunning fins and took off down the enormous river. Myrrir marched back to the quarterdeck, where he met with his officers and Tye. ¡°We¡¯re on a schedule, now. Someone wants to race us to the Mediator.¡± ¡°One of Hammontor¡¯s relatives, coming to claim revenge on you?¡± Tye asked. ¡°Very unlikely that she had anything to do with Hammontor,¡± Myrrir commented. If Wren had ever met Hammontor, she would have disliked the other man more. Myrrir tried to recall Wren from Mascant, but he had been to the galactic capital multiple times, and these days, the visits rarely made an impression on him. It was impossible to have a first visit to Mascant ever again. ¡°A discontented young God-heir looking to make a name for herself,¡± Myrrir muttered to Tye. ¡°Is it possible that she truly isn¡¯t a God-heir?¡± Tye walked to the railing and leaned over it, and Myrrir joined him. They watched the sloop fade off into the distance. ¡°The Victra Family¡¯s silk production has made them incredibly wealthy. Perhaps they were able to afford enough treasures and elixirs and pills and whatever other augmentations your type consume¡­to raise her otherwise impotent spirit to greater levels.¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± Myrrir acknowledged. ¡°But I find it more likely that she¡¯s just a bastard child.¡± After a brief bout of silence, Myrrir turned back to the rest of the quarterdeck and said, ¡°Set sail. We know the Mediator was heading in this direction. The closer we are, the more clues we¡¯ll find. Karmion once regarded the God-heirs on the Path of the Blaakflag as the best manhunters in the galaxy. Let¡¯s live up to our reputation.¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± the officers and sailors called. Tye shouted orders at them, as did a few of the officers under him. The sails climbed back up their masts and the Streamrunning fins dropped back into the water. The Hyovao set off. Myrrir was just about to climb back to the afterdeck, to cycle his Arcara in the falling wake of the ship, with a near-unlimited supply of mana, when he felt a surge of power in his core. It was bursting at the seams, full of purified mana and itching to grow. ¡°Myrrir¡­¡± Tye said softly. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m¡­¡± Myrrir clenched his teeth, but it was like trying to hold back a streamrunner with his bare hands. ¡°...advancing.¡± Myrrir was about to run up the stairs to the afterdeck¡ªto climb from Captain to Commodore would take more mana than he had available¡ªbut he doubted the spray of the wake would be enough. He turned and ran to the forecastle, where more Stream water spilled over the front railing. The iridescent water was bursting with mana. He needed it all. He sat down on the front deck of the ship, leaning against the railing. The advancement might take a while, but there was no better time. As if he had a choice. Wren ran to the front of her ship. The little sloop, the Wormspinner, had been a gift from her father, who had given it to her as a yacht. He didn¡¯t have to know that she had long since replaced the soft, civilian crew with ex-pirates and hardened mothfolk sailors looking for a little extra pay. There were plenty of mothfolk to go around, after all. She basked in the Stream water, and though her spirit still tried to resist her, she cycled it as much as she could. She would need as much Arcara as she could get if she wanted to truly collect the bounty on the Mediator. After spending an extended stint in the library at the Order Temple? And heading this direction. The Mediator was looking for a teacher. ¡°Oh, Nathariel¡­¡± Wren muttered. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t take her in, would you? I sure hope not¡­¡± With a heavy sigh, she reached into her satchel, and produced a small book. For Vallor¡¯s Descendants, it said on the cover. She flipped it to the inside cover, where the words Path of Splinters were written. Below it, on the bottom edge of the page, the parchment was charred in a distinct, star-shaped, rippling pattern. Like folded steel, except instead of steel, the ridges were made of burn and char. She growled, then snapped the book shut. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t good enough for you, then neither is the Mediator.¡± Bremi walked with Lieutenant Tikks around the main deck of the Harmony. Tikks pointed out duties of the seamen, who were varnishing the railings and polishing the ship¡¯s gold filigree decorations. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t have built a ship this ornate nowadays,¡± Tikks said, stepping around a pair of sailors who worked to coil up a rope. ¡°But since we have a beauty like her, we¡¯d best take care of her.¡± ¡°I thought the Harmony was blessed by Vallor himself,¡± Bremi said. ¡°God of Ships and all that.¡± ¡°Well, more accurately, the God of wooden ships,¡± Tikks clarified. ¡°Varnish isn¡¯t wood, and neither are the cannons.¡± When they reached the forecastle, he stopped and looked back across the deck. ¡°We used to only take midshipmen who were already seamen for a few years. But given your relationship with the Mediator and our need for somewhat respected officers, they put you in. But that doesn¡¯t mean you have a free ride.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an apprenticeship position, now, if I understand correctly,¡± Bremi replied, trying to show the lieutenant his knowledge. ¡°And all the midshipmen do it.¡± ¡°Precisely,¡± said Tikks. ¡°Give it three years, and you can take the lieutenant¡¯s examination. A few promotions after that, and you can captain your own ship.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll look forward to it.¡± ¡°Now, Captain Pels entrusted us with the job of getting the ship ready for proper combat while we waited for him to get back. We still have some sorting to do in the cargo hold, and I think they¡¯ll need our help arranging the gun carriages below deck. What do you say¡ªup for a little more work?¡± ¡°Always, sir.¡± Chapter 22: Star Hammer [Volume 2] In the morning, Perron gave Vayra and Glade a horse, then instructed them to head east from the Camp until they reached the Rallemflow, then to follow it south until they reached the mountains. Near the rocky culverts where the river disappeared into the mountain, they would find entrances into the Night Vale Chambers. Lastly, she gave them a map. It was a simple sketch of the region, and the Camp wasn¡¯t marked on it. Vayra and Glade parted ways with Pels, then rode out of the camp and travelled east. There wasn¡¯t a perfect path to the Rallemflow, but there was enough room between the shards of stone that they could navigate their horses to the east. Vayra checked her haversack to make sure her supplies were still available and topped up¡ªaside from the valuable goods the Order had given her, she also had to ensure she didn¡¯t run out of food. She doubted there¡¯d be much to forage for on a planet like Muspellar. ¡®You¡¯d be surprised,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®I¡¯m pretty sure I sensed a deer. Well, it had the spirit of a deer, but it had a coat of thick coal-like crystal, and orange flames burned in its eyes. And magma dripped from its antlers.¡¯ The Goddess paused, then added, ¡®One of those would be much better as a pet than a mangy ship¡¯s cat.¡¯ ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry your starry head off,¡± Vayra muttered under her breath. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to form a soul pact with the ship¡¯s cat.¡± ¡®A soul pact? You better not!¡¯ ¡°I can¡­actually do that?¡± ¡®If you knew the creature from its birth, you could take it as a sacred companion. Some God-heirs do it with some of the more¡­special creatures of the galaxy, for a bit of a power boost. Helps them form unique techniques and can give them some special cycling patterns.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. ¡°Huh. Neat.¡± ¡®I¡¯m still an advocate for peacocks,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra only smiled in response, then turned her gaze forwards again. The ground began to slope downwards slightly, and in the distance, Vayra could hear rushing and bubbling water. She looked over her shoulder at Glade. He smirked subtly as his horse trotted beneath him. ¡°I forgot how unnerving it can be when you talk to yourself like that.¡± ¡®Not talking to yourself!¡¯ Phason¨¦ protested. Vayra dropped her head, then whispered, ¡°You know what he meant¡­¡± For another half hour, they rode towards the sound of flowing water. When the spikes of obsidian peeled away and dropped them at the river¡¯s edge, they navigated their horses down onto the bank. The water bubbled and steamed, and since it was seawater flowing inland, it made the air taste salty. Plus, the steam made everything more humid. They had travelled slightly southeast, and now the mountains were closer. Vayra could make out dimples and ridges, and in the daylight, she spotted bluffs of glistening, smooth obsidian among the rest of the dull volcanic rock. But the direct sun and open sky wouldn¡¯t last forever; on the horizon, to the west, a bank of ashy clouds followed them. By evening, it began to rain, but the water was more steam than liquid. It was scalding hot, and though it didn¡¯t hurt Vayra, the heat felt oppressive, like she imagined most humans would feel on the hottest day of a normal year. Glade, however, was a mostly-normal human, and their horses had no resistance to scalding water. They began to whinny and whimper. They hid beneath a ledge of packed, brownish-black soil, listening to the boiling rain patter against the ledge above. It was just barely bigger than the horses. ¡°I may not be able to enter the Chambers with you,¡± Glade told her while they rested. ¡°but I will not wait around while you put yourself in danger. I will make sure no one follows you in.¡± ¡°Someone could follow me in?¡± Vayra shook her head. ¡°Not for a day after I enter.¡± ¡°But they could, and there are better trackers than me in this galaxy. I do not suppose we have lost all of our pursuers yet, and where there is one bounty hunter, there are bound to be more.¡± ¡°I appreciate it,¡± Vayra said. Truly, she did. Perhaps the presence of Glade would be enough to scare away a few bounty hunters, and if not, his skill with a sword would hopefully be enough to deal with them. When the rain stopped, it was dark out. The clouds blew away, leaving them stuck under a blank, vaguely starry sky. They rode for a few more hours to make up for lost time, then camped under an especially-thick canopy of stone shards at the edge of the river. Glade took the first watch, and there was little she could do to convince him¡ªor Phason¨¦¡ªotherwise. He woke her halfway through the night, and she took her watch. She saw nothing interesting, save for a glimmer of one of the deer that Phason¨¦ had mentioned earlier. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. When the sun began to rise, they set off. Vayra wasn¡¯t sure how long the day and night cycle here was, though it didn¡¯t seem too different from a regular planet. While she had no perfect way of keeping track of time, she also suspected they were near the planet¡¯s equinox, seeing as the day and night cycle were about the same length. For two more days, they rode along the river towards the mountain. Occasionally, Vayra spotted a wisp of Stream water slip past in the river, and she did her best to absorb mana from it. Although she wasn¡¯t cycling, talking with Phason¨¦ took small, small amounts of mana, and the Goddess nattered enough to make it necessary. ¡®Would you rather I sit in your head and do nothing? No, no, I won¡¯t do that. Not today. It¡¯s not something I¡¯ll do. I will talk to you.¡¯ ¡°I wasn¡¯t complaining. Just making sure I was topped up.¡± Late in the afternoon on the second day, when the mountains loomed ahead of them like a wall and the foothills rolled up and down like waves, they came upon a pair of deer. Phason¨¦ pointed out that Vayra didn¡¯t know how long she would be in the chambers and that it would be wise to hunt them for supplies. But the only weapon Vayra had was a pistol, and it wasn¡¯t accurate at the best of times. ¡®Well, you¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s learned a trick or two. My brother taught me this one,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Find a place to hide.¡¯ Once she and Glade had dismounted and settled behind a ridge of obsidian shards, Phason¨¦ continued: ¡®We¡¯re going to try throwing the scythe.¡¯ Vayra raised her eyebrows. Throwing it? She kept her thoughts inside her head so they didn¡¯t spook the deer. ¡®Throwing it. If you give me your hand, and a little bit more of your arm, I¡¯ll try to give it a good whip. We¡¯ll make it spin, and hopefully, we¡¯ll hit the deer.¡¯ Vayra loosened her fingers and let all feeling fade from her right hand and arm, all the way up to her bicep. She kept it low so the ridge blocked the white light from reaching the deer and spooking it. There were a few wisps of haze in the sky, enough to restrict the starlight. The scythe took a little longer to form than usual. ¡®Never tried this before,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra knew that well enough. ¡®The scythe will start to dissolve as soon as it leaves our hand,¡¯ the Goddess continued. ¡®Hence why we need a little stronger Arcara for it¡ªboth with the help of your bracers and your body.¡¯ She paused. ¡®And it will want to come back. We¡¯ll have to give it a hard throw if we want to make the whole distance. Ready?¡¯ Vayra looked over at Glade. He¡¯d drawn his sword, but he seemed interested in what she was going to try. She felt the same way. Cautiously, he backed away. As soon as the scythe¡¯s blade began to hiss and sputter, Vayra jumped up. She still controlled her shoulder, and she used it to thrust her lower arm as far forward as she could. Controlling the bottom of Vayra¡¯s arm, Phason¨¦ did the same. Phason¨¦, however, had an enhanced body. The Goddess whipped Vayra¡¯s elbow forward far harder and faster than Vayra ever could have. Vayra felt her muscles crying out in pain and her joints protesting, and her arm moved with a flash. The scythe tumbled through the air, spinning on a horizontal plane. It dipped before it hit the closest deer, but the blade still hacked through its shoulder, incapacitating it. Vayra winced in sympathy for the creature; while it was food, she had hoped to kill it quickly. The second deer bolted away. Glade ran up to the writhing body of the first deer and drove his sword through its head, putting a quick end to its suffering. The scythe had begun to dissolve as soon as it left her hand. By the time it stopped, the force of it wanting to return to her body overwhelming the force she¡¯d thrown it with, it dissipated into wisps of starlight. She had wanted to see it fly back towards her, but that wasn¡¯t in the cards tonight. She retook her arm from Phason¨¦, and the rest of the starlight raced up into the sky. For the rest of the evening, she and Glade worked to cut the meat off the deer¡¯s body¡ªall while Phason¨¦ gagged and complained inside Vayra¡¯s mind. They weren¡¯t expert butchers by any stretch of the imagination, but Vayra used a sharp shard of obsidian, and it sliced through the dark-coloured venison easily enough. They hung the meat in thin strips to dry. Glade produced a small tin of salt and they spread it over the meat, so when they left it out in the heat, it wouldn¡¯t rot. Vayra marched down to the river to wash her hands, and she figured wading in up to her shoulders couldn¡¯t hurt either. It wasn¡¯t unbearably hot yet. Besides, her clothes could use a little bit of a cleaning. ¡®So, what are we going to call that one?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked as they dipped into the river. ¡°That one?¡± ¡®That technique. Throwing the scythe. No God-heir of Mediator worth their Arcara would pass up the chance to name a technique. Besides, it¡¯s already put a nice little yellow storm on your seer-core.¡¯ Curious, Vayra held out her hand, and cycled her Arcara a little. Instead of pushing their consciousness down into their guts to observe their techniques, Mediators and God-heirs could conjure a seer-core from their area of dominion. It allowed her to visualize her core better, but also keep tabs on her mana and her techniques. Over her hand, a small ball of starlight formed. It was mostly white, like how her Arcara looked, but there were a few blue and yellow swirls mixed in, like storms on gas planets. Already, there were a few yellow swirls. One for the Starlight Palm, one for mustering her scythe. A third, she suspected, for this new knowledge¡ªof throwing a scythe. ¡®If you can¡¯t come up with a name, I¡¯ve got a few ideas.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡± ¡®Searing Sweep, Pale Cutter, Star Hammer¡ª¡¯ ¡°Let¡¯s go with Star Hammer,¡± Vayra said. She laughed under her breath. ¡°It¡¯s the only one that doesn¡¯t hurt my ears when I say it¡­¡± Vayra stepped out of the river and walked back to Glade. He was sharpening his sword with a stone. ¡°We should rest,¡± he said. ¡°Tomorrow, we should arrive, and you will need all the energy you can get.¡± Chapter 23: Dragon Gods Chambers [Volume 2] The next morning, they hung the strips of venison off the saddles of the horses so they could keep drying. As soon as they¡¯d cleaned up after themselves¡ªburying the deer¡¯s remains, then washing off in the river¡ªthey continued onwards. There was no clear start to the mountains, but Vayra decided to count the first mound where a large wedge of bare rock pushed through the brown dirt and obsidian shards as a mountain. They followed the river. As long as they could see it and it didn¡¯t dip below the surface, they could keep following it. Besides, she hadn¡¯t found anything that looked like an entrance into the Night Vale Chambers. ¡°How will we find an entrance?¡± Vayra asked about halfway through the day, when she couldn¡¯t contain her curiosity any longer. ¡°There may be one close to the river,¡± Glade said. ¡°If we can¡¯t find one when the river dips underground, then we should try to find the mountain pass and follow it as far as we can. Or rather, until we come within sight of an entrance.¡± ¡°Do you guys know what¡¯s inside?¡± Glade shook his head. ¡®The Night Vale Chambers are one of many ruins scattered around the galaxy,¡¯ Phason¨¦ explained. ¡®They were made by the old dragons to store treasure, and would be ignorant to assume they left no defenses.¡¯ ¡°By¡­dragons?¡± Vayra swallowed, then looked down at the river. The bed sunk deeper and deeper away from the shore, and the hills around grew taller. They were taking the higher road; they ended up further and further away from the rushing water. ¡®Dragons,¡¯ the Goddess confirmed. ¡®Like you, almost. Races like the dragons and full-blooded phoenixes had a mostly-human form with which they could breed with other humans, if they chose to. They used their human forms, and their powerful God-heirs, to build the Chambers.¡¯ ¡°Dragons had God-heirs?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I truly wish I could hear Phason¨¦ sometimes¡­¡± Glade muttered. ¡®There were dragon Gods, Vayra,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡°Were?¡± ¡®Their lines weren¡¯t succeeded. With so many squabbling, competing heirs, sometimes the dragon Gods weren¡¯t able to properly pass their Godhood on. Or so the story goes.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. ¡°So¡­what should I expect inside the Chambers?¡± ¡®Traps and guardians.¡¯ ¡°I do not mean to break up your history lesson,¡± Glade said, ¡°but the river has ended.¡± Vayra looked down into the valley. The steaming river disappeared into a stone culvert, and all around it, the valley closed in. Ahead, the sharp, black peak of a mountain ensured that no river could pass above ground. Vayra looked around for anything that might be an entrance to the Chambers, but she saw nothing. They kept riding for a few more hours, following the general course of the river as best as they could guess it (without seeing it, nothing was certain), until they came upon a path of trodden dirt. It didn¡¯t look like a proper, well-marked trail, but it was good enough. ¡®I don¡¯t think this is the pass that Perron was talking about,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°She did say something about the Kudmen Chambers Company using these to test their explorers and recruits,¡± Vayra replied. ¡°Perhaps this is one of their trails.¡± Glade pulled the map that Perron had given them out of his satchel, then ran his finger along it. ¡°I would concur. It looks as though there is an entrance¡­around this area, though the map is awfully small.¡± ¡°We should keep moving, then.¡± When the path began to slope up the side of the mountain, Vayra felt hopeful. It wound around the edge, curving in a circle until it had wrapped a full loop around the edge of the mountain. The path became more and more vague, until she wasn¡¯t sure if they were even following it anymore. Their horse¡¯s hooves began to slip, and the forest of obsidian shards below waited. If they slipped, they¡¯d be impaled. After another loop around the mountain, slowly scaling it, Vayra was certain the path had ended. She looked back and sighed. They¡¯d probably just wasted an afternoon chasing a terrible lead. ¡°Up ahead.¡± Glade pointed forwards, where a ledge of stone sat. They could rest their horses, at least, and come up with a new plan. When they arrived at the ledge, Vayra turned in a circle, looking out over the landscape. They stood on a high peak, but there were plenty of taller mountains to the south. She strained her eyes in the fading evening light, trying to see how far the mountains went. She only saw an endless range of dark stone. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Every mountain was blanketed in obsidian shards, up to a certain point¡ªlike forests clinging to normal mountains. An orange glow shot up against the ash clouds in the distance, searing the sky¡ªa volcanic eruption, she guessed. ¡®All the more reason to get inside,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Sooner than later, I¡¯d hope.¡¯ ¡°If you see a way in¡­¡± Vayra muttered. She and Glade turned to face the rocky wall behind the ledge. It was mostly flat, except for a few rough stones protruding outwards. ¡°A bit too flat,¡± Glade muttered. Vayra narrowed her eyes, then ran her fingers along the wall. She felt a few bumps and indentations in the wall, which were difficult to see in the fading light of the day, but they were too rigid and straight to be natural. ¡°Glade?¡± she asked. ¡°Are these runes?¡± He had talked about runes before, but she¡¯d never seen them. Running his hand down the wall, he nodded. ¡°Someone carved them here.¡± ¡®Well, there you go,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You found the entrance.¡¯ ¡°How do we get it open?¡± She leaned against it with her shoulder, and it felt completely sturdy. ¡°It can¡¯t be too hard, right? The resistance has managed to get in before.¡± Phason¨¦ hummed to herself, then said, ¡®Runes aren¡¯t common for a reason. They¡¯re not terribly useful, and they can¡¯t take much power.¡¯ Glade said the same thing a few moments later, then added, ¡°Dwarves used them to write, but the rest of the galaxy saw their power. They function the same way the Seekerstones worked¡ªyou can fuel it with Stream water, or your own mana. If the runes¡¯ creators used a starsteel chisel, there should be starsteel flakes in the runes, which will allow a mana circuit to form.¡± ¡°Seems useful enough to hide a door,¡± Vayra commented. ¡°So¡­I just give the runes a little power, and it opens up?¡± ¡°Different shaped runes have different effects. I would assume this one will open and let one person through.¡± He brushed away some dust with his hands. ¡°I doubt the runes were even carved by the original builders of the Chambers. It is far more likely that the Chambers Company added them afterwards to make it harder to find.¡± ¡®And so they could test their recruits without interruptions,¡¯ Phason¨¦ added. ¡®It wouldn¡¯t be much of a test if they could work in teams. Just pour a little Stream water on it, and it¡¯ll open¡ªand it will probably ensure only one of you enters at a time.¡¯ Vayra crossed her arms. ¡°We don¡¯t have any Stream water with us.¡± ¡®Then use your own mana.¡¯ Vayra took a deep breath, and nearly choked on the sulfury air. She felt her Arcara swell, though, propelled by mana. Placing a hand on the runes, she imagined she was creating a circuit with them, then poured a little Arcara into it. Mana followed, necessary to push it, and a line of pale blue light slithered along the stone, lighting up the wall. In a few seconds, an archway of glowing blue runes formed. It looked drawn onto the wall, and when she leaned closer, she could see the individual letters in the rune script along the door frame. Vayra pulled her hand away. ¡°Should I¡­push it?¡± she asked. The moment she reached out and tried to place her hand on it, a set of blue sparks erupted up from the center of the door. The smooth wall of stone shuddered, and dust fell off it, revealing a wall of brown bricks in the center of the archway. Glade nodded. ¡°I see¡­¡± ¡°See?¡± ¡°They would not be able to continually power the runes without a source of mana. So they built a solid door, with runes to turn it¡­less solid when needed.¡± Vayra nodded uncertainly, then decided that runes were above her pay grade¡ªfor now. She was here for Nathariel. As she watched the wall, the mortar began to dissolve. It didn¡¯t crumble or fall away, but it became less¡­solid. As soon as the mortar became invisible, the bricks all disappeared with a snap. Already, the runes around the doorway were dimming. ¡®I don¡¯t know how long it will stay open, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®If we¡¯re going, now would be the best time.¡¯ Vayra turned to her horse and gathered up as many strips of dried venison as she could from its saddle. She tucked them into her ammunition satchel. ¡°Thanks for guarding this door, Glade.¡± He sighed. ¡°It is the most I can do.¡± Then, grabbing both horses¡¯ reins, he guided them away from the edge. ¡°I will see you when you return. Hopefully, you have a teacher in tow.¡± After another sigh, he added, ¡°Do not put yourself in unnecessary danger, more than you already have. And¡­do not anger Nathariel. I can guarantee that he is more powerful than Myrrir, and if he holds a grudge against Mediators as well, he may just choose to destroy you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll run if things get bad.¡± Vayra picked up a pebble from the ledge and tossed it through the open doorway. It slipped through, though the air in the doorway rippled like water. But already, the bricks at the edge of the doorway were beginning to materialize. ¡®It¡¯s closing¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®Go.¡¯ Vayra turned her shoulder forwards, then walked through the doorway. It was a few feet thick, she guessed, and every inch she travelled, the air seemed to resist her. It was like pushing through water that didn¡¯t want to part to let her through. She held her breath, and for a brief moment, a wisp of panic reached into her gut. If the door shut while she was still trying to push through it, she¡¯d be entombed in bricks. ¡®Then go faster!¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡± Her shoulder broke out of the doorway on the other side, and she stumbled forwards. The rest of her body slipped out as well. As soon as she was through, the bricks snapped back into existence with a boom, sealing her in and preventing anyone from following. Everything was dark. Completely dark. She held out her hands, feeling sharp, smooth walls on either side of her. A hallway. Hesitantly, she took a step. The hallway sloped downwards. She walked for a few minutes, until up ahead, around a corner, she spotted a glimmer of light. She ran towards it. Through a small, fist-sized vent in the roof, outside light filtered in. The sun had nearly dipped behind the horizon, and the first stars were glimmering in the sky¡ªbeyond a thin patch of ashy clouds. She held out her hand, and using the three little stars she could see, she conjured her seer-core. It wasn¡¯t very mana intensive, but it was bright. Her surroundings lit up. A hallway led forwards. She tilted her head and bit her lip, then muttered, ¡°We¡¯re in now. Let¡¯s just get to the other side in one piece¡­¡± Chapter 24: Magmaspawn [Volume 2] Vayra walked down the tunnel as fast as she dared. If there were still traps, she didn¡¯t want to run too fast and trip them by accident without even seeing them. Or worse, in the darkness, she might just trip. ¡®Only you could manage to trip on nothing¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I never said¡ªwell, thought¡ª¡®on nothing¡¯,¡± Vayra replied. She spoke aloud, her voice travelling down the hallway and echoing off the walls. But there was no one else around, and she didn¡¯t need to worry about keeping her voice low when she was talking with Phason¨¦. ¡®And what might you trip on?¡¯ ¡°I dunno. A raised rock, or maybe a hole in the floor. These tunnels are ancient, and they could fall apart on us at any moment.¡± Phason¨¦ harrumphed, but she stayed silent for a little while longer. The tunnel began to slope downward, and every step they took, the air tasted more and more stale. They descended deeper into the heart of the mountain. Vayra suspected it was just so that it would eventually meet up with the main complex of the Chambers, but it didn¡¯t stop her chest from growing tighter and tighter. Every time they passed beneath a small vent hole, the surface seemed further and further away. Between the vents, her seer-core remained lit; once she had formed it, the starlight remained contained above her hand. One time, she tried dispelling the seer-core¡ªas far away from the vents as she could. The starlight swirled up to the ceiling like smoke and slowly spread out, crawling towards the distant vents. As it tried to escape, she used a Starlight Palm in the empty air. It was fueled by the remaining light from the seer-core. She only managed to let off one pulse before the light escaped. ¡°Neat trick,¡± she muttered. ¡®It will work better in a completely sealed room,¡± Phason¨¦ pointed out. ¡°Normal light shouldn¡¯t do that.¡± ¡®It¡¯s not normal light, though, is it? It¡¯s technically starlight-infused Arcara. Or, since it only takes such a small amount of spiritual energy, we should probably call it Arcara-infused starlight.¡¯ They continued downwards for the rest of the evening, until Vayra couldn¡¯t even see glimmers of twilight in the sky above. She paused at an intersection between two tunnels. One led deeper into the planet¡¯s crust, and another seemed to level out. They had to truly be beneath the surface now. No matter how much she might have wanted to continue onwards and get out of this place, she also knew she had a long road ahead. She would need to sleep at some point. She settled against one of the walls. It was smooth and gently-sloped, and when she put her packs beneath her, it made a decent pillow. It might not have been a cabin in the Harmony, but she was used to sleeping in worse places. However, she wasn¡¯t used to distant, hollow howls and glassy chittering. Halfway through the night, the sounds started to build, echoing around up from below and reaching her ears. Compared to the previous silence, they were enough to wake her. A guttural slithering and slurping sound followed, and that was her cue to rub the sleep out of her eyes and jump to her feet. She pulled her haversack and ammo pouch back over her shoulder, then drew her pistol. She¡¯d only gotten a few hours of sleep, but if she got any greedier, she¡¯d be dead with her eyes shut. As soon as Vayra stood up, the noises seemed to grow louder. She wished she¡¯d chosen a place to sleep closer to a vent to the open sky, but now wasn¡¯t the time for regret. Without her seer-core, it was almost completely dark. She ran her hands along the wall, feeling for the entrance to the hallway that ran parallel to the surface. As she crept slowly through the darkness, the distant sounds grew louder and¡­less distant. ¡®I think they¡¯ve realized you¡¯re here¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°They?¡± Before the Goddess could answer, a soft orange glow appeared down the deeper hallway. A shadow stepped out. It was a humanoid creature with pitch-black tar covering its skin, save for a few patches of scales along its limbs. Horns sprouted out of its head, which glowed with orange cracks¡ªlike magma was about to spill out of them at any moment. The light it produced was enough for her to see by. She turned and looked towards the other hallway, the level corridor, and turned down it. She broke into a sprint, and ran until the light of the creature faded away behind her. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Ahead, she spotted the light of a vent hole. She ran towards it. Not much light filtered in from above, and she could only see a single starry pinprick. She summoned her seer-core as quickly as she could, which wasn¡¯t very quickly. But the creature seemed to have lost interest in her, and for now, she hadn¡¯t seen any others. That was just for now. Once Vayra had the seer-core formed up in her hand, she continued onwards. The hallway reached another intersection, and this time, her only options¡ªexcept going back the way she came¡ªwere to go downwards. When a fiery light appeared down one of the options, she made her choice and went with the other tunnel. ¡°Any idea what these creatures are, Phas?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®Some sort of defensive creation of this place¡¯s original builders. Magmaspawn, by the looks of it. By the time they make it up here, they¡¯re pretty weak.¡¯ ¡°Can they track me?¡± ¡®Perhaps with scent, or by following the vague pulse of your spirit,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®They¡¯re not entirely sapient. Since the old dragon gods poured so much Arcara into these chambers, it would have started accumulating in the magma pools deep below. Given a few centuries, it¡¯s reasonable to assume that magmaspawn began emerging. They wouldn¡¯t have been a threat to the dragons.¡¯ ¡°Great¡­¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°A threat to us, though.¡± ¡®For now.¡¯ The hallway continued downwards, then levelled out. By the time it levelled out, Vayra could feel a little more heat clinging to her skin, and especially to her throat¡ªenough to notice it, and enough to make her want to get out of here faster. When she reached the next intersection, however, she found a magmaspawn waiting in the middle of the small, circular room. There were no air vents, and certainly no alternative passages. ¡°Well¡­let¡¯s see what one of these things can do,¡± she said. It carried a crude weapon¡ªa stone club of some sort, with sharp obsidian crystals clinging to its very tip. She cocked her pistol, holding it in her left hand, and as soon as she drew close enough that she knew the shot would hit, she fired. The ball of metal raced out of the barrel with a puff of flame and smoke, and it struck the creature in the shoulder. The shot tore through the beast¡¯s flesh, scattering an explosion of tar and scales, and sending the beast reeling. Vayra dispelled her seer-core with a shake of her hand, then drew in the wispy white energy and blasted the creature in the gut with a Starlight Palm. The pulse was enough to send the creature stumbling back a few feet. It swung its club about wildly, and Vayra ducked away. To the side, then down, then¡ª She stood up too soon. The club¡¯s blunt edge struck her in the chest, flinging her across the small room. All the air fled from her lungs, and she heard a hollow crack. Were those her ribs? Whenever she breathed in, she heard a clicking sound. The magmaspawn bellowed, then pounded the floor with its club, digging up a score of scratches on the stone. There were no vents nearby, but for the most part, the stray starlight that Vayra had released lingered around the roof. ¡°Is there enough to form the scythe?¡± ¡®Not¡­not enough,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied, pain in her voice. ¡°Then Starlight Palm it is¡­¡± The magmaspawn charged. Vayra barely had the strength left to hold out her hand, charging the technique. When the creature swung its club, she pushed herself to the side just enough to dodge the attack, then threw the fully-charged blast of starlight into its chest. With a thunderous crack, the beast flew across the room and crashed into the opposite wall. Vayra pushed herself up to her feet. She shook out her arms. Not much of the starlight remained¡ªit was leaking away, or had been burned up by her techniques. She had to end it quickly, and sooner than later. She ran through what she was capable of in her mind. Starlight Palm, seer-core, shielding an object, summoning the scythe, and throwing the scythe. But all of those techniques required starlight. The magmaspawn shook its head, and grumbled softly. It rose back to its feet and adjusted its grip on its club, then blew out a breath of sparks from its mouth. Vayra gathered what remained of the starlight into another, dim, half-formed seer-core, then ran down a hallway. It led south¡ªas close to due south as she could reckon. After a few steps, her chest began to ache, and every breath hurt. She wasn¡¯t sure how much longer she could do this for. And, worse, she wasn¡¯t running nearly as fast as she should have been able to. ¡®Not all of your techniques will require starlight,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You know a Guide technique¡ªmanipulating my realm of oversight¡ªand you can cast Wards on objects. But all God-heirs and Mediators can bolster their body with Arcara, temporarily. You¡¯ve felt this before¡ªthe subtle strength you gain while cycling.¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s exactly where we¡¯re stuck,¡± Vayra replied through clenched teeth. The hallway turned, and she rammed her shoulder into the wall. A wave of pain raced through her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the magmaspawn, racing after her to catch up. It was getting closer. ¡°Other techniques?¡± Vayra asked, pushing her body back to a sprint. ¡°Like?¡± ¡®You thought you¡¯d start to overcome your roadblock by throwing yourself into danger¡­now¡¯s the chance. You¡¯ll have to start feeding your muscles with Arcara, empowering them.¡¯ ¡°Almost like the concentration-enhancing elixir,¡± she breathed, recalling the tidbit of information she¡¯d received from Elder Yaryn¡¯s books. ¡®Almost,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Any moment, Vayra knew her body would falter. She was slowing down, and the magmaspawn¡¯s footsteps were getting louder behind her. She could feel the vibrations in the ground and the wind of its breath. Any moment, it would catch up. If she didn¡¯t turn and face it, she wouldn¡¯t even have the element of surprise. Vayra planted her feet and spun around. Chapter 25: Bracing [Volume 2] As soon as Vayra turned around, she began breathing deeply. She pushed her Arcara around, letting it cycle through the channels. She imagined it pushing out into her body, through invisible little filaments. She felt nothing. The magmaspawn charged closer, its club ready to pound her straight into the ground. Before the creature collided with her, she slipped to the side, pressing her back against the wall. The magmaspawn charged past, the spiky tip of its club swishing past her face and narrowly missing. One of the obsidian spikes severed a strand of her hair. ¡®Try again,¡¯ Phason¨¦ ordered. ¡®Or we both die.¡¯ Vayra stepped back into the center of the hallway, and held out her seer-core. She¡¯d gotten used to the idea that her techniques relied on starlight. It would be impossible to rewrite her mind in such a short time, but she had an orb of starlight-soaked Arcara right in front of her. Why couldn¡¯t she use it? The magmaspawn stopped, and turned around to face her. It was ready to charge again. ¡®Just like the other techniques, but there¡¯s a lot more starlight there than Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®You¡¯ll damage your channels¡­¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t have time to question it. It was a choice between living and dying. She inhaled, pulling the seer-core¡¯s light in through her fingers like she was drawing in a puff of smoke. It flooded into her hand, and the Arcara channels in her fingers. ¡®Push it outwards!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡®Imagine little tiny filaments reaching into your body, like the roots of a great tree! Almost like your shield!¡¯ As soon as the light entered her channels, Vayra felt a burning, hot pain in her channels. It wasn¡¯t a physical pain, but something deeper. She clenched her teeth, trying to disperse the feeling. It was starlight, her element. Like guiding the energy for the Starlight Palm, she pulled it back, then pushed it into her muscles. A blazing white light shone through her skin, as if her arm was burning up from the inside. But at the same time, her hand felt incredibly, incredibly strong. The magmaspawn swung its club at her. She reached up and caught it, reaching between the obsidian spikes. She clenched her hand, and the tip of the club shattered. Before the magmaspawn could back away, she lunged forwards and threw a punch. Her hand blasted straight through the creature¡¯s chest. It collapsed into a pile of ash, and Vayra fell right beside it, panting. The white light faded from her arm, leaving only a tingling, painful sensation. ¡®That¡¯s what it feels like to be burned,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I¡­hate it¡­¡± Vayra panted, shaking her arm. She slumped against the wall behind, trying to wrestle her breathing under control. ¡°I¡¯ll just¡­wait here¡­for a little while¡­¡± Scritch, scritch, scritch. The flint scratched and scratched, dropping sparks into the chute of a pipe. Finally, it caught the dry flakes of tobacco in the bottom of the pipe, and the substance began to smoulder. Nathariel could set anything within his sight aflame with a thought. A self-respecting God-heir with his magic shouldn¡¯t have needed a tinderbox to light a pipe, but he wasn¡¯t much for self-respect. He leapt down from the high summit he stood on and fell a few hundred feet. Upon landing, he heard his ankles pop, and though his enhanced body absorbed most of the impact, there was certainly damage. It would heal before the end of the day, without so much as a scar to show for it. When he landed, he stood at the brink of a deep valley. A river of magma rolled along its floor, spewed from a recent eruption. They weren¡¯t close enough to the equator to keep the magma flowing in rivers, though, and the wind would cool it eventually. From this vantage, Nathariel extended his perception across the mountain range. His visitors had split up, and the half-phoenix had entered the Chambers. Good. The other waited by the doorway. The Mediator might have had the most raw power, but her companion was not without his strengths. For a boy with only Fair-Spirit Potential, he was doing well for his age. With proper resources¡ªnot the swill the Order of Balance called elixirs¡ªhe might truly earn some footing in the galaxy. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Nathariel turned his attention back to the Mediator. ¡°Ah, finally,¡± he said to himself, walking to the edge of the ledge. ¡°Dealt with that one magmaspawn.¡± He stroked his chin, running his fingers through his beard. She was certainly enough to¡­intrigue him. Her abilities had reached a block. He knew exactly what it was; he had been following her and watching from a distance ever since he¡¯d sensed her arrive on the planet. He¡¯d felt a faint tingle in the back of his neck when she¡¯d entered the star system. This was a good first step, that was undeniable. She was used to Phason¨¦¡¯s abilities¡ªthe Starlight Palm, from the Goddess¡¯ own Path of the Astral Hammer¡ªwhich always mixed the starlight it drew in with enough Arcara to dilute it and protect the body¡¯s channels. The Mediator Form? He wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d managed to use it yet, though even if she had, it still used starlight Arcara¡­ His thoughts were running away from him, as usual. He chuckled, then jumped down to another ledge with carefree abandon. She and her companion could be the only chance to pass on his techniques. He couldn¡¯t fail this time. But, no matter what, he wouldn¡¯t know if she truly had potential unless she emerged from the other end of the Chambers in one piece. Glade sat outside the Chambers¡¯ entrance all day, watching the trail that approached it. He could only watch this one entrance, but since (as far as he could tell from the map) it was closest to the north, it would be the first entrance an invader of the Chamber would try. After the first few hours, he relaxed. He moved to the center of the ledge and sat cross-legged. Elder Miin would have wanted him to continue his exercises. Not just with his sword, but with his Arcara. He didn¡¯t have much, but no one really did until they could cycle. They might absorb a little mana from eating Stream-borne fish, or a little might enter their body through contact with Stream. To purify it was a hard ask, but occasionally, tiny dregs of mana would purify into Arcara. He shut his eyes, and tried to imagine the little sliver of life energy slithering through his body. These were Elder Miin¡¯s mandated exercises, yet he couldn¡¯t help but hear the voice of his old master, Elder Eman-Fa. The Stream is life, boy. It connects every planet, it waters the soils with spiritual energy, and it bleeds mana into all the galaxy¡¯s planets. Yes, without the Stream, there would be no God-heirs or Mediators or magical beings that we have no business crossing blades with, but there would also be less¡­life. Glade relished in the darkness of his mind. He began an exercise that he had practised since he was a boy¡ªpushing his consciousness down towards his stomach and envisioning his core. He was lucky to have a clear image of his core in his mind, ever since he was a young teen. It was a little marble of gray light, and it barely glowed, but it was there. He drew his Arcara out of the marble, dimming it down to a tiny gray snowflake, and extracting a snake of spiritual energy. It was his Arcara, pushed along by mana. Individuals like him, people with Fair Spirit Potential, they didn¡¯t have a well-defined set of Arcara channels. Not like Vayra, who¡­randomly, one day, had been gifted everything she needed to challenge even the Gods. Before the feeling could rise up and become envy, he quashed it. She had plenty of extra concerns that came along with being the Mediator. He would continue as he always had. He set his jaw, clenched his teeth, and tightened his fists. His duty was to help, and if needed, to protect. If he didn¡¯t get more powerful, then he wasn¡¯t doing his duty. After three days, Pels found his first catch. They approached the Elderworld galleon from the veil of a fogbank¡ªor, an ashbank would be more appropriate¡ªand approached it from the stern. The Harmony was faster, much faster, and the Elderworld ship clearly hadn¡¯t been expecting that it would need to run. By the time the ship¡¯s crew had set their sails, Pels had already secured the catch. His crew knew what to do. When the Harmony¡¯s bow passed the enemy galleon¡¯s stern, they fired the first battery, shredding the enemy ship¡¯s stern and disabling its Streamrunning fins. Not that either of them were close enough to the Stream to run, but he wanted to be certain. Then, he ordered the crew to heave the sails into the wind. The Harmony fired two more volleys¡ªenough to be certain the Elderworld galleon¡¯s rudder chain was disabled. Pels let the enemy ship slip past. The desperate crew thought they could escape, but truly, they were only presenting a target for Pels¡¯s next phase. He ordered a hard turn to starboard, and now that the galleon had presented its stern, he prepared to rake them with the full force of his main guns. He had never witnessed the Harmony¡¯s full firepower before. Every cannon boomed one after another, spewing smoke into the air and throwing hundreds of pounds of cannonballs at the foe. The Elderworld galleon¡¯s stern erupted into splinters. The window of its great cabin shattered, and his barrage wreaked havoc all across the gun deck¡ªfrom this angle, his shots could fire straight down the ship¡¯s gun deck, tearing it to pieces. The enemy¡¯s gun crews were all comprised of bluecoats, and he felt little remorse for destroying them. They were created by Karmion himself, an artificial army. From birth, they were indoctrinated and trained. The rest of the crew, the sapient officers and experienced seamen, he felt more pain for. He¡¯d spare them, and let Perron decide their fate. But first, he had to take the ship. ¡°Bring us hard to larboard, Mr. Sorron,¡± Pels told the coxswain. He marched to the front railing of the quarterdeck and shouted, ¡°Grapples!¡± The Harmony caught their wounded prey less than a minute later. Pels¡¯s crew knew what to do; as soon as they could, they cast their grapples over to the railing of the enemy ship. The two Redmarines assigned to the quarterdeck, Kertogg and Tressdott, both looked horrified by what they were witnessing. ¡°Piracy?¡± the elf demanded. ¡°You were released, Pels, on your promise to abstain from piracy!¡± Pels put his hand on the elf¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Call it privateering. On the Mediator¡¯s orders, and part of our bargain with the Resistance. They¡¯ll get more ships to fight with, and we¡¯ll get some gold.¡± He glanced at the dwarf, who, through his beard, was smiling. ¡°Admit it. You¡¯re enjoying it.¡± As Pels spoke, the Elderworld galleon ran up a white flag. ¡°First catch,¡± Pels said. He couldn¡¯t see any more ships at the moment, but there would be many more on a planet like this. Chapter 26: Delving Deeper [Volume 2] Myrrir toured around the Halmine sector for a few days, hunting for any sign of the Harmony. He interrogated bluecoats and Elderworld naval officers, and for those who didn¡¯t see who he was and respect his authority, he¡­made them. Mainly, he implored them to remember that he was a still God-heir, and that in the Elderworld, all that mattered was strength, and he had more than enough to push around a local bluecoat captain who didn¡¯t have even a glimmer of magical power. By the time he heard anything, he¡¯d poked three hornet¡¯s nests¡ªElderworld forts. At the fourth fort, he heard that ships were going missing on Muspellar. Plucked off one-by-one by an expert, whose targets seemed not to be merchants, but rather, military. It was privateering, Myrrir knew. A bastardization of piracy. But he also had his suspicions of who was responsible. None of the pirate clans would have dared to be so bold, to engage the Elderworlds openly. But he had read about the Mediator¡¯s current crew. Muspellar it was, then. He set his hands down on the railing in front of him, and the wood shuddered under the new strength of his Commodore-stage grip. He released his grip, then pulled off his right glove. Pale beech wood clacked, and starsteel wires groaned. Instead of flesh, his fingers were made from wooden segments and bound together by hinges. Starsteel wires crept through holes in their center and wound around them, conducting Arcara through his hand like the wires were the channels in his body. His palm was a set of linkages and wooden panels, as well as a few starsteel coils that contracted when he fed them Arcara. The artificial hand crept all the way up his wrist, and only ended just below his elbow. Maybe one day, when he advanced to Godhood, he¡¯d replace his hands. Until now, he¡¯d have to be content with the best prosthetics that money¡ªor the status of being Nilsenir¡¯s favoured son¡ªcould buy. And he needed to regain that status. He tugged his glove back on, then slapped his hand down on the railing. He was hesitant to say he had a plan, because that rarely worked out. But a picture of the situation was forming in his mind, and that was enough for him. If he could picture the situation, he could picture the solution. Tye might encourage more discretion, but Tye wasn¡¯t inside his mind to tell him no. Vayra pushed herself away from the wall with a shudder. She¡¯d had a few hours of rest, really and though that wasn¡¯t enough to repair her body, she couldn¡¯t stay still. Her Arcara channels felt clogged and burnt from the Bracing technique, and she imagined black char filling them. But, on top of that, her chest really ached. She missed Mr. Spawlding¡¯s infirmary, and his concoctions, and¡ª ¡®Vayra, you are not without solutions,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®Your elixirs.¡¯ Vayra pulled open her haversack, then drew the case of elixirs out. The healing elixir, a vial of green liquid, would be just what she needed. ¡°How much?¡± she asked. ¡°How much do I need?¡± ¡®For this? The whole vial.¡¯ Vayra pulled the stopper out with her teeth then dumped the vial in her mouth. It tasted bitter, with a faint sweet undertone. But what else did she expect out of a healing elixir? She felt it dribble down her throat and into her stomach, and she let it filter out into her Arcara channels, just like the concentration-enhancing elixir. When it entered her veins, she cycled her Arcara through her body for a few breaths. As it travelled through her channels, the elixir began to reach out and soak into her limbs and bones all on its own, stimulating their repair. When it left her body, she tried to chase it with her own Arcara, to make it leak outwards the same way. Nothing. ¡®Well, it was worth a try,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°We should keep moving,¡± Vayra told her. The healing elixir didn¡¯t make the ache in her chest go away, but it did give her confidence that, in a few hours, she wouldn¡¯t feel as much discomfort. ¡®Do we¡­have to? I¡¯d rather not have to feel us walk like that again¡­¡¯ ¡°Unless you want more magmaspawn to catch up¡­¡± ¡®I imagine we¡¯ll encounter some no matter which direction we head.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll need more than just your imagination, Glitter Princess.¡± ¡®Yes, yes¡­¡¯ Vayra walked down the hall as far as she could. She needed to conserve her strength and keep herself from putting too much strain on her body. When she reached a vent, she reformed her seer-core with the last morning stars she could see. It would have to last her the whole day. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. With the seer-core, she checked her mana. Bracing her limbs had cost a significant chunk, and she had about three-quarters left. ¡®We should encounter branches of the Rallemflow at some point,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡°The river?¡± ¡®How would the dragon Gods have built this place if they didn¡¯t have a source of mana flowing through the entire building?¡¯ ¡°Fair point, I suppose,¡± Vayra said. ¡°But I haven¡¯t seen any.¡± ¡®We¡¯ll find it eventually. They built entire canals around this place. I can¡­sense it flowing. Well, I can sense it¡¯s life energy flowing.¡¯ For the rest of the day, they walked south¡ªas best as they could manage. Often, when she reached an intersection, the only option was to head downwards. She hadn¡¯t yet encountered any tunnels to bring her back up to the surface, and the air¡­kept getting hotter and hotter. Sweat glistened on her arms and forehead, and Phason¨¦ spoke less and less. Vayra¡¯s mouth felt completely parched, and a headache built in the back of her mind. Excessive mana use would cause dehydration, she knew, but she could also get dehydrated like a normal half-phoenix could. ¡®If only you were a full-blood¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ lamented. ¡°Alas, mom had the hots for a human, it seems,¡± Vayra replied. She didn¡¯t ever know her parents, but that was her best conjecture. ¡®Your mother would¡¯ve been the phoenix, if you were hatched from an egg.¡¯ About halfway through the day, just when she was about to stop to eat, another magmaspawn found them. It carried obsidian daggers, and its horns glowed brighter than the others. Every time it exhaled, sparks flew out of its mouth. Vayra sprinted away, leading it to a patch of the hallway where there were no nearby vents. It swung its daggers wildly, trying to hack her to bits, but she dodged most of the blows¡ªexcept when one of the absurdly sharp stone daggers left a shallow slash across her gut. She fed a starlight shield into her left bracer to strengthen it, and used it to deflect the beast¡¯s daggers. One shattered, and the other glanced off to the side. Before the creature could recover, she blasted in the side of the head with a Starlight Palm, flinging it into the wall. She took her time to feed starlight Arcara into her veins. As soon as she felt the burning sensation in her wrist again, she grabbed the magmaspawn¡¯s rocky, tarry neck and crushed it. This creature¡¯s body didn¡¯t crumble as easily as the other¡¯s, and it still took all of her effort just to crack the creature¡¯s neck. But it just cracked; it didn¡¯t shatter. Before it could climb up, she blasted its weakened neck with a Starlight Palm, severing it completely. The orange glow in its horns dimmed. Again, Vayra fell back against the wall, panting. She didn¡¯t want to waste any more healing elixir on a relatively shallow cut, no matter how much it stung, so she settled for wrapping a bandage around her gut and moving on. By the time evening came again, she found one of the channels Phason¨¦ had mentioned. At an intersection between a few tunnels (all of them except the one she¡¯d come from lead downwards) a rigid, non-natural canal ran along the floor. It was thin enough that she could cross over it in a single hop, but she couldn¡¯t tell how deep it was. The water steamed as it poured through a hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room. It wasn¡¯t boiling yet. And, it looked like much of the regular water had already evaporated by the time it reached this chamber, leaving a much higher concentration of Stream water than she would find in the river. She dipped her hands in it carefully, just to make sure it wasn¡¯t hot enough to hurt Phason¨¦. When the Goddess didn¡¯t protest, Vayra submerged her arms, washing off as much grime and sweat as she could while refilling her mana. ¡°Do we have any way we can bring some of this stuff with us?¡± she asked. ¡°If we don¡¯t have any mana, we¡¯ll be pretty screwed.¡± ¡®Unless you brought a jug,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra looked down. She just had her cartridge pouch and haversack. The haversack was pretty good at keeping water out (so it¡¯d probably be just as good for holding water), but she needed it to carry her supplies. The cartridge pouch was much the same, but she needed to keep her cartridges dry. Instead, she used the empty vial of the healing elixir, and dipped it gently in the river. It wouldn¡¯t hold much, but it was better than nothing. For the night, she figured she would camp here while she could. She didn¡¯t hear any magmaspawn nearby. As quickly as she could, she chose a meal for the night¡ªa strip of venison and a puck of hardtack, which she softened by dipping in the channel. To keep herself from getting any more dehydrated, she drank from the river, trying only to catch wisps of normal water. Once she¡¯d eaten, she did her best to sleep, but it was hard to calm her mind after what had happened last night. Worse, when she stopped moving and tried to sleep, she noticed a faint buzz in the back of her neck. It was the same buzz she felt around God-heirs, but it was firmer and more cohesive, despite how faint it was. Whoever it belonged to must have been incredibly powerful¡­ ¡°You feel it too, right, Phason¨¦?¡± ¡®I feel it,¡¯ the Goddess replied. ¡®But there is very little we can do about it.¡¯ ¡°Myrrir?¡± she asked. ¡®Unless he made it through all of the steps of Commodore, and broke through to Admiral¡­in about a month.¡¯ ¡°You can tell it¡¯s an admiral?¡± ¡®With how faint it is?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®It¡¯s a God-heir of some sort, and someone choosing not to hide their spirit. I know it¡¯s incredibly distant, and the only way we¡¯d feel it was if the God-heir was around the Admiral stage. Maybe higher.¡¯ Vayra pursed her lips and exhaled. ¡°Nathariel?¡± ¡®Could be. Otherwise, we¡¯ll have an unpleasant surprise to deal with.¡¯ ¡°I figure it¡¯ll be a surprise either way¡­¡± she muttered. For a few more hours, she tried sleeping. She passed in and out of consciousness a few times, and finally, for a few hours, fell asleep. Her dreams were foggy and disconnected, and they left her feeling light-headed even while she slept. In the end, it just felt¡­a little unsettling, and nothing more. She woke up about halfway through the night, ready to roll over and try sleeping again, but in the distance, she heard heavy footsteps and a growl, and she decided that it was best to keep moving. She gathered up her bags and set off. Phason¨¦ made no comment, so she assumed the Goddess was still asleep. So she didn¡¯t wake Phason¨¦, she tried to keep her thoughts quiet, though it was hard to restrict her own mind, especially when distant booms and bangs kept putting her on edge. For the rest of the night, she crept through the tunnels. There was no choice but to head deeper and deeper, until she no longer saw any vents to the surface. Or, if they were present, they were too winding to let in any proper starlight. The single seer-core she had was all the starlight she would get. When Phason¨¦ woke up¡ªshe yawned audibly, then complained about their ribs again¡ªVayra asked, ¡°How far will it be?¡± ¡®Looking at that map, and considering our pace¡­my guess is that it will be another two weeks.¡¯ It would be a long two weeks¡­ Chapter 27: Burnished Flame Loop [Volume 2] All of Nathariel¡¯s previous disciples had failed. Not in the Chambers, of course. They¡¯d all blazed through those with ease. They¡¯d always failed afterwards. So set in their ways, stuck on their Paths. They wanted advice from him, but they refused to listen. They wanted him to solve all their problems with a swipe of his hand, and he couldn¡¯t do that. He could only pass on the ways of his instructor, and they didn¡¯t want such wisdom. What was to say the Mediator wouldn¡¯t be any different? Over the past two weeks, she had struggled through the Night Vale Chambers, bumbling around like a cat with her tail chopped off. She had nothing but the raw strength plopped onto her by the world, and no idea how to use it. She had a bag full of elixirs and pills, but she didn¡¯t even begin to take them up¡ªexcept for the healing elixirs, which she had burned through in the first three days. Nathariel kept pace with her, watching with his spiritual sense as he aimlessly strolled the mountains. It wasn¡¯t hard to keep up with her. Over the past two weeks, she had been pounced on by magmaspawn, charged by angry lava wraiths, and even faced a few drakes. The drakes surprised him the most¡ªshe knew exactly where its weakness was and how to exploit it. When it felt any sort of pain, it recoiled, raised its head, then blasted fire, exposing its neck. Had she fought drakes before? Or had Phason¨¦, perhaps? The chambers did not come without their toll. Her leg had been broken in a clash with a powerful magmaspawn, and she had already used up her healing elixirs. She limped on it, wincing with every step. From head-to-toe, she was covered in cuts and scrapes, and a few worse gouges. Her shoulder had been dislocated a few days ago, and she¡¯d been forced to set it herself. He had practically heard her screaming. It was nothing a God-heir wouldn¡¯t have had to endure, if they were training under the watch of a proper instructor. From such a distance, it was easy to feel removed, though he knew that she might not make it out of the Chambers¡ªnot at this rate. At some point, she would be caught by a magmaspawn, and the beast would land a fatal blow. She had no speed or agility anymore. Unless she advanced to the next stage. Upon reaching Master¡¯s Mate, her body would be restored and reforged. Most God-heirs underwent the transformation after a few decades; most Mediators after a month of having their powers thrust onto them. His expectations for Phason¨¦¡¯s Mediator might have been too high. She had been Mediator for months, and she hadn¡¯t yet reached it. Nathariel walked along for two more days, smoking his pipe and enjoying the sights of the mountain valley while he could. Every few hours, he extended his awareness just a little further, to observe the Order disciple. He had dispatched a human bounty hunter with a negligible spirit, as well as a party of Kudmen Chambers Company explorers who had refused to turn away. He was doing alright. Nathariel might go back and pick him up¡ªif the Mediator ever made it through. Nathariel turned his attention back to the Chambers below him, and swept his senses through the hallways. Here on Muspellar, where fire was the strongest, he was in his element, and the flame aided his spiritual perception. He couldn¡¯t see the Mediator, but he could see an incredibly detailed model of her in the ripples of heat and in the wake she left in the flames. Despite everything, she just kept going. He snorted, expecting her to die when a magmaspawn leapt around the corner. She burned through a small wisp of her seer-core, empowering her fingers with it. After a few minutes of violent, desperate grappling, she got a grip on its horns. With the extra strength her starlight Arcara gave her, she split the beast¡¯s skull. A few more bruises and cuts as a reward, of course. A wave of pity built in his chest. It had been a long while since he had taken a disciple¡­ He shut his eyes. Not again. They always failed. But this was the Mediator. He would never have a better chance to pass on the teachings of his instructor to someone more worthy. He would never have a better chance to etch his name into history, to change the galaxy, than he did now. She might have been weak, but she was a blank slate, ripe for moulding. In that moment, he promised himself that if she reached the first upward-leading intersection before sundown, he would step in and help. She didn¡¯t. It took her an extra half-day before she found the tunnel. Next, Nathariel told himself that if she reached the main falls by the next sunset, where the large body of the Rallemflow dropped down a few feet suddenly, he would offer his assistance. She didn¡¯t make it until another day had passed. She was dragging her leg, now, and breathing raspy breaths. He could feel desperation rolling off her in waves. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. If she made it to the Firefeather Grove by morning, then. Then he would help. Again, she arrived late, but she arrived. He sighed, plagued by indecision. She was unrelenting, desperate, seeking a climb, seeking great strength¡­and falling short, always. She was like every young God-heir. Like every young God-heir, except for one thing: she hadn¡¯t yet been moulded. If she could learn the Burnished Flame Loop cycling technique, he vowed to himself that he would take her as his disciple. ~ ~ ~ Vayra dragged herself into the next large, open hall of the chambers. The floor here was covered in mud. From a distance, she had seen a vast array of glowing red stalks, like treetrunks made of glass. Now that she was in the room, she could see that they were enormous, upright, feathers. They grew from the soil, and they very well could have been trees. She wasn¡¯t in the mood to investigate. Everything hurt, and at some point, she was expecting to get used to it. It faded, like the Shadowthorn had, but it was also different. Every time she tried to put weight on any part of her body, a sharp needle of discomfort rolled through her veins and muscles. Her leg especially. As soon as she had broken her leg, she and Phason¨¦ had realized that getting out of the Chambers would depend on whether she could ascend to Master¡¯s Mate or not. It left a pit in her stomach for the entire last few weeks, but she had time. Now, she knew it was coming to a close. Despite managing to bolster her body temporarily with Starlight Arcara, she had made no more progress. No foundation for her enhanced body, nothing. Behind her, she heard a chorus of footfalls pounding through the hallway, followed by screeches and a few gurgles. The magmaspawn were closing in. There were probably a few drakes among them, too, and she knew that she wouldn¡¯t hold them off. Vayra hauled herself into the center of the underground grove, staggering between a pair of glassy trees. She wiped her mouth and forehead with her hand, then dipped her fingers into a channel of water that ran down the center of the room. Trying to clear her mind, she splashed a handful of water in her face. Between her clear blood, grime, and sweat, her face was caked. She was sure that a few wet streaks carved through it, leaking down from her eyes¡ªit would have been impossible not to cry a few times, the way she was doing now. ¡°How close¡­¡± she breathed. ¡°...how close are we to Master¡¯s Mate? Phas?¡± The Goddess didn¡¯t respond for a few seconds, but Vayra heard her raspy breathing. She healed better than Vayra, but she also had a much lower pain tolerance¡ªthe Goddess was used to not feeling pain. Finally, Phason¨¦ grunted, ¡®Core is about¡­three quarters full of Arcara. You¡¯ve been cycling a lot to fight off the monsters.¡¯ ¡°Figured.¡± For a moment, Vayra contemplated climbing to the top of a feathery tree, spending a few days cycling, and forcing an advancement. She wouldn¡¯t earn an enhanced boy, but she would live. Before she could try, a pair of heavy bootsteps fell behind her. At first, she feared that the magmaspawn had finally arrived, so she turned around, ready to defend herself. But instead of a tar-covered, rocky monster, she spotted a man. He looked in his late thirties, with a thick black beard and long black hair¡ªtied into a ponytail. His skin was dark, but his eyes glowed bright orange. As far as Vayra could tell, he was human. He shook out the sleeves of his robe, then straightened his tricorne hat. ¡°Disciple presumptive. It is time for instruction.¡± Vayra¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Time¡­for¡ª¡± The man flicked his fingers, conjuring a flame at their tip. As soon as it lit up, he unveiled the true weight of his spirit, and the force of it alone blasted her back a few feet. Faintly, beneath a headache and an everything-ache, she felt a powerful buzz in the back of her neck. ¡°Nathariel¡­¡± she breathed. There was no one it could be. Disregarding her leg, she fell to a crouch and pressed her forehead against the dirt. ¡°Sir, Mr. Layre, I¡ª¡± ¡°There is no time to grovel, girl.¡± Nathariel walked past her, his arms tucked behind his back. ¡°I have a breathing technique for you. Learn it, perform it, and master it. Then you will be presumptive no longer.¡± She didn¡¯t think her mouth could open any further, but somehow, it did. ¡®Don¡¯t just kneel there!¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Get up and¡ª¡¯ ¡°The Burnished Flame Loop,¡± Nathariel stated. He planted his boot, the force of it pushing away the dirt in a perfect circle around it. ¡°Your core.¡± He pointed down. With the heel of his boot, he drew a shape of complex, swirling lines. He moved with complete, stoic control of his feet. He only pressed his heel down when he meant to, surely, to draw only the lines he meant to. In the end, he drew an image of¡­a candle flame flame. The core was the wick, and the Arcara above it, only travelled in select channels, forming a teardrop-shaped fire. For good measure, Nathariel generated an orb of flame-imbued Arcara in his hand¡ªa seer-core¡ªgathered from the heat and the glowing, feathery trees. Unceremoniously, he turned over his hand, dropping the orb. It splattered against the dirt and raced around, filling the network of lines that he¡¯d drawn with glowing fire. ¡°That is the pattern,¡± he stated. ¡°Learn it.¡± Vayra glanced around, looking at the hall¡¯s four entrances. All around her, she heard the cries of the magmaspawn. Any moment, they would come streaming in! ¡°Sir¡­¡± she warned. ¡°I¡ª¡± Nathariel raised a hand, then clenched his fist. A wall of fire erupted in front of each doorway, blocking it with flames. How would that help? They were magmaspawn, born in lava. But, though Vayra could hear the creatures past the flaming walls, she didn¡¯t see any of them advancing through it. ¡®An Arcara ward,¡± Phason¨¦ noted. ¡®In the truest sense. The fire might not hurt them, but he¡¯s shielding the air itself. They might get through if they push hard enough, but I doubt many will try.¡¯ Nathariel tapped his boot on the dirt, then locked eyes with Vayra. ¡°Learn it.¡± Chapter 28: A Test of Breathing [Volume 2] Vayra sat in front of the diagram that Nathariel had drawn, folding her legs beneath her, and she analyzed the pattern with her eyes. Over the past few months, since she had gotten her abilities, she had learned how to manipulate mana and Arcara in her channels with her breaths and mind¡ªthe Godscourge book had been helpful with a few tips. She couldn¡¯t control it perfectly, but between forming a picture in her mind of how she wanted the mana to move with certain breathing patterns, she could make general loops with Arcara through her body. She shut her eyes, pushing her thoughts down towards her stomach, and drawing her consciousness along with it, until she visualized her core in her mind. It was a glowing ball of white, electric starlight. The channels around it pulsed with glowing Arcara. So close to the core, there were hundreds of tiny channels, so small she could barely see them. There were so many that she could push her Arcara in almost any shape she wanted¡ªso long as she gave it the proper guidance. There was no time to waste. Nathariel didn¡¯t seem in the mood for messing around, and she didn¡¯t want to know what would happen to her if she failed to learn the proper breathing technique. She inhaled, pushing the energy around in her chest. She tried to make her spiritual energies flow in a flame-like shape. The first loop, it made more of a¡­round circle. The second, triangular. She pushed it out to the sides to try to make it look more like a flame, but it didn¡¯t work. ¡°Imagine the flame of a candle above the core,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°Push your Arcara in towards it, and let it burn.¡± Vayra tried, but the thought of pushing it inwards took a lot of effort, and it left her panting. Suddenly, she was thankful that her ribs and chest hadn¡¯t taken any damage recently¡ªnothing that hadn¡¯t healed. ¡°It will be hard. It will be strenuous. Let it be.¡± ¡°Let it?¡± she panted. ¡°If it is easy, you¡¯re doing it wrong.¡± ¡°And if it¡¯s difficult, it¡¯s right?¡± ¡°Not necessarily.¡± Without another word, Nathariel turned around, then jumped up into one of the feather-shaped trees. She doubted she¡¯d get any more help out of him. ¡®How do we know he¡¯s even helping us?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. He was testing her, Vayra figured. Whether the technique would help or not, she couldn¡¯t say. She kept the thought inside her mind, though, so Nathariel wouldn¡¯t hear it. ¡®By the looks of it, it¡¯s a technique best suited for purifying mana into Arcara. Which will be counterproductive.¡¯ So would dying. Vayra felt Nathariel¡¯s gaze boring into her. She leaned forwards again and tried the pattern. ¡°Think about packing the mana inwards,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°Contain the flame.¡± ¡®I thought he wasn¡¯t giving us any more help.¡¯ He never said that, Vayra thought. I just guessed. And wrong. The first two loops, her mana stayed incredibly loose and it kept trying to escape the grasp of her mind. But, as soon as she imagined pushing it inwards, the Aracara glowed brighter in her mind. She imagined she was packing a snowball with her lungs. The more force she exerted near the top of the loop, then more she drew it into a point. Near the bottom, she let it expand, just a little bit, then packed it tight right before it touched her core. As the Arcara wound around in short, tight loops, she felt vast amounts of mana purifying, and joining in with the glowing mass. She half expected it to tint orange, but it didn¡¯t. So close to her core, she felt the strength of the spiritual energies beginning to leak out into her body surrounding the core, leaping across the boundary between arcane and real, and infusing her with its essence. It wasn¡¯t starlight Arcara this time. She was laying the bricks at the base of a house. But, though it bled into her core, the moment she tried to push it out into her limbs, she lost the feeling. The loop collapsed and the flame died. ¡®It¡­it also seems to push mana outwards,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®Out into the body.¡¯ ¡°It was a valiant effort,¡± said Nathariel. Vayra was half expecting a ¡®but¡­¡¯ from Nathariel, but none came. She had to keep trying. The next time, she managed to hold it for four entire loops before collapsing to her hands and knees. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®It¡¯s¡­incredibly effective at purification,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®At this rate, you¡¯ll push yourself to advance in a few days.¡¯ Vayra bit her lip. ¡°Listen well, disciple presumptive,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°As you advance higher, you will find that brute force will not avail you. The art of magical growth is not a game of strength, but of understanding.¡± ¡°Understanding?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Understanding your Path, the ways of the universe, and yourself.¡± He crossed his arms. ¡°Between Master¡¯s Mate and Quartermaster, you must come to a certain acceptance about your reality, and the body you are living in.¡± Vayra inhaled, ready to try again, but before she could start, Nathariel added, ¡°I am finding you late in this stage, and there is little I can do to reverse the improper techniques you have been using. But that does not mean we can¡¯t make the most of your situation¡ªso long as you are willing to learn and listen.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°No more words. Prove it to me.¡± Nathariel needed to stop talking. He knew he did. He was giving her too much help. He should have walked away an hour ago, but the moment he tried, a magmaspawn tried to push through the wards he had erected in front of the doors, and he had to dispatch it before it attacked the Mediator. With a sigh, he remained in his tree, perching high above the maybe-disciple. Maybe? What was he thinking? He was supposed to be giving her impossible challenges, ensuring that he would have every excuse not to take another disciple. While she worked on the technique, trying to push herself to hold it longer or extend the flame further out into her body, he stepped over to her side and looked through her bags. Inside, she carried a multitude of elixirs¡ªto be expected, though she didn¡¯t have nearly as many as some of the God-heirs from powerful families, nor as high-grade. What intrigued him the most was her book, bound with a black cover and titled ¡®Godscourge.¡¯ As she worked, he flipped through the book. It was¡­interesting, to say the least. Vayra couldn¡¯t tell how much time had passed in the sealed-off chamber. Everything was always the same shade of flame-red, like it was an eternal sunset. Phason¨¦ said a day had passed since they started learning the new cycling technique, but Vayra wasn¡¯t sure if she believed the Goddess. It felt like it had been much longer. She didn¡¯t know if she was getting better or worse at it. She managed to expand the pattern of mana and Arcara movements away from her core a little bit, but the moment she tried to send it more than¡­an inch, maybe two, away from her core, it faltered and she couldn¡¯t push the mana out into her body any better than she¡¯d been able to before. Finally, Nathariel placed a hand on her shoulder and said, ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t do the technique, I¡ª¡± ¡°You managed the technique perfectly fine,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°Though it took you long enough.¡± ¡°Long enough¡­?¡± ¡°Most get it in an hour or two.¡± Vayra fell back, resting on her hands and letting the warm dirt seep between her fingers. ¡°I don¡¯t think I got it at all. And now my core is almost full, with no framework to build an enhanced body on¡­¡± Nathariel gave her a smug grin, then spun away, his robe snapping behind him. In his hand, he held a black book. No¡­her black book. He asked, ¡°Where did you get this?¡± ¡°A friend gave it to me.¡± ¡°It was a generous gift,¡± he said, then tossed it back towards her. She barely caught it by the spine. He crossed his arms. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t despair, if I were you. That book, it describes types of bodily enhancement that¡­haven¡¯t been practiced since before the time of the Mediator.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows, and Phason¨¦ let out a¡­sound, which made Vayra think vaguely of disbelief. ¡°Phason¨¦ can read it herself; I¡¯m sure she¡¯s doubting me,¡± Nathariel continued. ¡®I can¡¯t read it myself, actually, unless this brick-headed phoenix cracks it open and starts flipping the pages. Can you tell him that, Vayra? Please?¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t. Instead, she leaned forward and listened more intently. ¡°Most types of enhanced bodies nowadays revolve around pure strength,¡± Nathariel told her. ¡°But ancient knowledge would suggest that there is more than one type.¡± He tilted his head towards the book. ¡°You will need to lay a different foundation, but that process has already begun. I say we finish it.¡± ¡°So¡­you¡¯ll teach me?¡± Vayra mustered the strength to push herself back to her knees. ¡°You¡¯ll help?¡± A flash of reluctance crossed his face. ¡°Let¡¯s call it¡­advising, for the moment. I don¡¯t like the Order, and you Mediators aren¡¯t much better. But I hate God-heirs, and you¡¯re our best shot at putting them in their place.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± Vayra tried again to bow, but her body collapsed under her, and she planted her face into the mud. ¡°Get some food into you, girl,¡± Nathariel demanded. ¡°I can speak while you eat.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± She pulled over her haversack and retrieved a puck of hardtack. It was her last puck, but with any luck, they would be out of here in a few days. As Nathariel paced around her, she began to gnaw on it. ¡°Since you¡¯ve figured out how to temporarily Brace your body with starlight, and since the Mediator Form is a similar technique, I figure the best thing we can do is direct your enhancement directly at your Arcara channels.¡± Vayra couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of regret. She had truly been hoping for an enhanced body that would give her physical strength like she¡¯d never had, strength to resist even the strongest attacks, like Myrrir, or to be able to fling opponents around with a quick punch or two. ¡°Are you sure¡ª¡± Nathariel stopped in his tracks, then he turned and looked at her with a new sort of intensity in his gaze. ¡°You will never be the strongest, not physically. Sure, with a traditional enhancement, you will overpower a regular un-spirited man now and then.¡± He walked closer, then flicked one of her arms. ¡°But be honest with yourself. You¡¯re a twig. No matter what I do, you will never be able to overwhelm the bigger, bulkier God-heirs, even those at the same stage as you. That¡¯s not how you are built. You must do what you can with what you have.¡± Vayra opened her mouth, about to argue, but she had nothing to argue with. ¡°So, accept that, and let¡¯s get this enhancement done with. You need to be more than a wall of brute force.¡± Chapter 29: Steelvein ¡°If we aren¡¯t going to improve my strength, then¡­what will improve?¡± Vayra asked. She had finished her meal, and she set her haversack down in the dirt. ¡°Some might call you a glass cannon,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Your book, and I as well, prefer to think of it as a glass cannon whose bore will never clog nor need cleaning, and though its barrel might crack, it will find itself repaired quickly.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows. That didn¡¯t sound so bad. ¡®Not so bad?¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡®You¡¯re telling me that you¡¯re just alright with not having any improvements to your strength?¡¯ ¡°We¡¯ll still be able to use starlight Arcara to give us a temporary boost, right?¡± she asked¡ªboth Phason¨¦ and Nathariel. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to do better than that,¡± Nathariel replied. ¡°The book calls it Aelth¡¯tred Eo. If my understanding of old Velaydian serves me, that translates to something like, ¡®Steel Vein Body¡¯, and for good reason. It greatly improves the strength of your Arcara channels, such that when you bring vast amounts of starlight into them, they will not burn up. Your spirit will not get exhausted nearly as quickly, and, to top it all off, your ability to heal will improve greatly¡ªthough I still can¡¯t figure how that one works yet.¡± Without waiting for her to respond, Nathariel set off. He approached the center of the room, where the canals of water feeding the trees all met in a small basin. It was mostly Stream water, iridescent and glowing, and it flowed in an almost whirlpool shape. ¡®Streamfather knows you could use some improved healing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ grumbled. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°But don¡¯t all enhanced bodies get improved healing? Right, sir?¡± ¡°Yours will be better than most,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°My current theory is that your Arcara channels will be so robust that the normal spiritual strain of boosting your healing will simply¡­not exist.¡± ¡°What do I have to do?¡± ¡°You may not have set enough of a foundation for a traditional body,¡± Nathariel reminded her¡ªand he didn¡¯t have to; the thought still stung. ¡°But, you did put in significant work expanding and strengthening your Arcara channels, and believe it or not, that old breathing technique you were using? That one described earlier in the Godscourge book? It was quite the tool for imbuing the channels themselves with a foundation of mana.¡± Nathariel dipped his boot in the pool of Stream water at the center of the room. It wasn¡¯t deep. Then, with a subtle smile, he added, ¡°Not to mention, the Burnished Flame Loop didn¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°What do I do?¡± Vayra ran up beside him, staring down at the water. ¡°Push yourself to the brink of Quartermaster with the Burnished Flame Loop,¡± Nathariel told her. ¡°While you do that, I will arrange the advancement ritual.¡± Vayra looked down, then whispered, ¡°Phason¨¦? How close are we?¡± ¡®We have less than a tenth of the way left,¡¯ the Goddess responded. ¡®Another few hours with the technique he gave you, and you¡¯ll be there.¡¯ For the next three, maybe four hours, Vayra sat cross-legged in front of the basin. Occasionally, she dipped her hands in the water to absorb more mana, but otherwise, she kept her eyes closed and her mind focussed. She had to do what she could with what she had. Her lips parted, and she gasped. A realization reached her. He core pulsed. Magic wasn¡¯t a miracle. It was a set of steps, over and over again, never stopping. She might not have had the best tools to climb the mountain, but that couldn¡¯t stop her from using what she had. After all, she was a Discarded. She was good at making do with very little. Her core pulsed again, sending a surge of energy through her body. Her heart began to pound faster, and she nearly leapt to her feet in surprise. It was happening. She was advancing! She opened her eyes. Nathariel met her gaze with a serious expression. ¡°Lay in the basin,¡± he instructed. ¡°I have followed the book¡¯s instructions to the letter.¡± He motioned to the edge of the basin, where an array of supplies had been gathered. She saw glowing branches from the feathery trees and a few vials of glowing liquid¡ªincluding one of the orange elixirs that the Order had given her. ¡°Most families and kinships have rituals for enhancing the bodies of their God-heirs,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It creates minor variations in the forging process.¡± ¡®My body was forged while basking in starlight, and buried beneath rocks from the moon of Cancard,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®This is hardly a regal enough place to forge the body of a Mediator.¡¯ Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Vayra tried to ignore the Goddess for the moment. They had no other choice. She tried to keep her core in check, as best as she could, to let Nathariel finish his explanation, but she knew she couldn¡¯t hold it for long. ¡°It will be unpleasant,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°But all enhancements are.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to convince me,¡± Vayra said. She limped forwards, and set herself down in the basin. The warm Stream water enveloped her, wrapping around her shoulders and hugging her body. There was just enough room in the chamber to envelop her whole body. When she laid flat against the rocky bottom, only her face broke the surface of the water. As soon as she was settled, she released her core. The ball of light shook violently, spewing arms of Arcara through her body like it was a miniature galaxy. They lashed out like whips, and she felt her insides churning. Vaguely, she sensed Nathariel placing a strip of fabric between her teeth, then bracing her head with a couple cloth strips. ¡®Oh no¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ whispered. Nathariel poured the orange mana elixir down her throat, and in an instant, everything blurred. Nathariel had made the preparations as best as he could. He¡¯d never been present for this part of a disciple¡¯s advancement before¡ªexcept for his own, which he barely remembered. The Mediator¡¯s book, however, gave him enough clues to start the process. She would need a vast infusion of mana to truly kickstart the process, and he was thankful she had elixirs with her. Next, a few branches of a spirit-tree. The grove gave him what he needed. No one knew why there was a grove of flame-feather trees in the Night Vale Chambers, though he had his guesses. The Dragon Gods who built it could have found uses for the Arcara-soaked branches, he was certain. He would find a use for it as well. As soon as the Mediator began to writhe in the pool, he fed her the leaves one-by-one. She seemed barely conscious, but she still ate the long, wispy fronds without complaint. The process of enhancing a body was truly a process of remaking it. Though the Mediator didn¡¯t have any mana framework, her bones still became porous, then reformed moments later. Her muscles still re-wrapped their fibres over themselves. Normally, they would have changed, moulded half from flesh and half from Arcara. Today, he only saw muscles remade as they had been before¡ªbarring, of course, her broken leg, which formed back properly. Everything, of course, was slightly purified. The process of advancing always expelled effluence from the body, and the Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate advancement especially. As soon as a grayish-brown fluid began to leak from her pores, he knew the process of remaking the body was nearly complete. Under a coat of dark fluids and unneeded debris, the Mediator¡¯s skin was remade, free of all scars and scratches. ¡°Almost there,¡± he said, as if to encourage her, but now came the hard part. The process of reforging her Arcara channels would require a catalyst. He reached to his hip, where he carried a void horn. From the outside, it looked identical to a powder horn, and no one would have thought anything different about it¡ªuntil Nathariel removed the cap and drew out a pouch of equipment that should not have otherwise been able to fit in it. The catalyst¡­would be a single claw from a Golden Tang-Coi. The fish¡¯s two-foot long claws were notoriously venomous to God-heirs. It liquified their Arcara channels and loosened their core. Normally, crippling. He carried it around because of how deadly it was. Now, though, it was exactly what she needed. All would be remade. Nathariel leaned closer and pricked her with the claw. A single dose would do the trick. As soon as it was done, there was nothing more he could help with. He turned away and walked to the edge of the room, then tried to ignore the splashing and soft grunts of pain. There was nothing pleasant about witnessing anyone advance from Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate. Hopefully, Phason¨¦ would be able to guide her through the rest of the process¡ªtruly, she just needed to keep cycling. Vayra wished she could pass out. The whole process, she stayed awake. Every second stretched, but as soon as the process was done, as soon as her chest stopped heaving and acid stopped pouring through her veins, everything seemed like a distant memory. She sat up. Her arms were covered in a grayish brown muck that smelled like rotten eggs, and it clung to the tattered remains of her clothes as well. Nathariel reached inside his powder horn and pulled out a pale white robe, then tossed it to her from the edge of the basin, then said, ¡°Clean yourself up. Do what you want with the robe. Then we keep moving.¡± He walked away. Vayra glanced around. The wards on the doors were getting dimmer, and the flames didn¡¯t roar as loud as they had before. Any moment, they would collapse, and the magmaspawn would rush in. She used the water in the basin to wash herself off, as best as she could. As she cleared the filth off her arms, she found at first a stain that she couldn¡¯t clear off. A¡­tattoo? Squinting, she looked closer. Buried beneath her skin was a bright red feather with golden tips. A phoenix feather. ¡°But¡­but I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡®A half-blood,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The stronger you get, the more of your magical form will be revealed. You¡¯ll be able to control it some day. For now¡­you get some pretty feathers beneath your skin.¡¯ ¡°Pretty¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°I guess¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t feel them, though she thought she should be able to. Maybe when they poked through her skin, she would. When she tried to stand up, she felt no pain in her legs. The bones felt¡­normal. Not stronger, but also not broken or screaming with pain. In fact, all of her wounds and scars had disappeared. She threw her old clothes into a corner and put on the white robes that Nathariel had given her. The sleeves were a little long, and they didn¡¯t fit over her starsteel bracers well. Besides, she liked her arms free. She ripped the sleeves off, then picked up her bags and walked towards Nathariel. ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me until we get out of here.¡± Chapter 30: Nathariels Hovel [Volume 2] Nathariel led the way through the Night Vale Chambers. With a flick of his hand, he could blast aside magmaspawn¡ªhe conjured a pillar of flame and Arcara and swatted them with it, flinging them into the wall. They struck with an impact such that their bodies shattered. Vayra had to clean up the remains, sometimes. One, in particular, kept writhing and snapping at them, and reaching for them with outstretched fingers. She didn¡¯t have any techniques that didn¡¯t revolve around starlight, but she did have her pistol, and it worked well enough against a beaten, mostly defeated magmaspawn. When she wasn¡¯t cleaning up in the wake of Nathariel, she tried cycling. She didn¡¯t have any free Arcara in her body after advancing, and she figured she¡¯d need some eventually. Mana, however, she had plenty of. Using the mana she had acquired while resting in the basin, she used the Burnished Flame Loop. She couldn¡¯t hold it for long while walking, and it left her panting, but there was plenty of time to practice. And with Nathariel, there was no real danger. This time, when she cycled, her Arcara channels seemed more¡­real. Not just a parallel system of blood vessels, but a true part of her body. They didn¡¯t bulge when she pushed mana through them, and there seemed to be less blockages or resistance. Almost like it had felt when she had used the Mediator Form. Nathariel seemed to know his way to the surface. He led them a little deeper, but then found a set of tunnels that began a steep ascent towards the surface. After a few minutes of climbing, they passed beneath the first vent of fresh air she¡¯d seen in days. The sun was either rising or setting, and there were a few stars in the sky. She pulled her seer-core down into her hand. Not that they needed light. Nathariel had plenty of fire to light the way. She just wanted to practice. Throughout the rest of the day, she practiced imbuing parts of her body¡ªparts of her inside¡ªwith starlight from the core. It still sucked lots and lots of mana, and she figured she was also losing (or using) a little Arcara when she did it, too. But when she envisioned her channels, they felt completely clean afterwards. No blockages, no charred remains. ¡®And no enhanced strength,¡¯ Phason¨¦ lamented. ¡®I¡¯ll have to be careful when you give me control of a limb, still, or I might hurt you¡ªwithout an enhanced body.¡¯ Vayra chuckled. ¡°If you need strength, we¡¯ll just use that¡­what did you call it? Bracing technique, and you can have an arm that¡¯s strong.¡± ¡®Temporarily.¡¯ ¡°But it¡¯ll work, and now¡­there are pretty much no downsides to using the Bracing technique.¡± ¡®I suppose¡­¡¯ Vayra looked forwards at Nathariel, recalling what he had said. She would never be able to overwhelm equal opponents with sheer strength, either. That meant she¡¯d have to outwit them. ¡®Or be more skilled,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed out. ¡®Not that you¡¯ve neglected combat training, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to turn scythework into a second nature. And your hand-to-hand? Well, that you have neglected.¡¯ ¡°It wouldn¡¯t hurt, no¡­¡± After another hour of walking at a brisk pace, Nathariel guided them to an exit. It was covered with bricks, just like the entrance had been, but he activated it the same way she had activated the entrance¡ªwith a touch of his hand, and a donation of mana. ¡°There shouldn¡¯t be any restrictions on multiple people leaving the chambers at the same time,¡± Nathariel said, ¡°but I haven¡¯t tried it before. So you don¡¯t end up stuck inside without me, you go first. If it shuts behind you, just wait until sunrise for me.¡± ¡°Wait a minute,¡± she said. ¡°How did you get into the Chambers and reach me? Were you following me the whole time?¡± He scoffed. ¡°I was watching from a distance ever since you arrived. When you reached the grove, I figured that it was time to help, so I entered the Chambers¡ªno one else had entered that day.¡± ¡°You¡­reached me that quickly?¡± ¡°I can move swiftly if I choose.¡± Vayra nodded. She glanced at the door. It showed no sign of starting to reform. ¡°How much mana did you put in?¡± Again, he scoffed. ¡°A touch. And a touch of Admiral-stage Arcara.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°A¡ªAdmiral? Admiral?¡± ¡°Keep saying that. You might get tired of it soon.¡± She chuckled to herself. ¡°I suppose you wouldn¡¯t have stayed at Commodore forever¡­¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve established how much work you have to do to catch up, are you ready to get out of here?¡± She looked down the hallway, through the darkness, and shuddered. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the Night Vale Chambers. ¡°Alright, me first, I guess.¡± Leaning forwards, she pushed through the faint barrier and stepped out into open air for the first time in weeks. ¡®At least it¡¯s nighttime,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®So we don¡¯t burn your eyes out with sunlight.¡¯ Vayra glanced around. The doorway deposited them in the base of a mountain valley, on shore of a river, but it wasn¡¯t a water river. Magma flowed down it, barely glowing orange. It was nearly cool already. She suspected it was the result of a recent volcanic eruption in the mountain range. When she looked back at the doorway, she half expected it to snap shut behind her, but it didn¡¯t. Nathariel snapped his fingers, then said, ¡°See? It lets anyone out whenever they want.¡± Then, more softly, he added, ¡°When you¡¯re alone, you don¡¯t find these things out. Though, no other disciple would have required me to intervene in the Chambers¡­¡± He stepped through the doorway, then said, ¡°Now, my residence isn¡¯t far. We can rest when we arrive. Unless you¡¯d like to be disintegrated in a lava flow.¡± So they walked for a few more miles. The tallest mountains were behind them, and ahead of them, only foothills. On this side of the mountains, it was warmer. When the sun rose, it felt like the middle of a summer day, and when it was at its peak, it felt like she was standing right next to an oven. If it wasn¡¯t for the clouds of ash blotting out most of the sky, it would be unbearable. Phasone made it very clear that she was feeling the heat worse than Vayra. However, Nathariel walked along ahead, entirely unaffected by the warmth. He hummed a soft, somber tune to himself as he walked, gingerly stepping along the trail of crushed brown rocks. Every so often he would stop to take a puff of smoke out of his pipe, allowing Vayra to catch up. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± he assured her, though Vayra wasn¡¯t sure. The trail wound through the forests that clung to the foothills, dipping between scraggly black trees with shrivelled, elongated leaves. It swerved back east, bringing them to the edge of the river¡ªthe Rallemflow, the water river¡ªand it was at the shore where Nathariel deviated from the trail. He stepped down onto the black gravel lining the riverbed, then led her onwards for a mile or two. Finally, in a deep valley, nestled between two black-robed foothills, was Nathariel¡¯s hovel. It rested on the edge of the valley, a short walk away from the river. Vines clung to the path up to it, but as soon as Nathariel began to walk up the slope, the vines retreated. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect me back so soon, huh?¡± he muttered, then kicked one of the vines with annoyance. His hovel¡¯s walls were also plastered with the vines, but they clung to lattices of black wood, and they seemed intentional¡ªred flowers bloomed on them, and they didn¡¯t retreat as he approached. Both Vayra and Nathariel had to duck to fit under the overhang outside the house. It had a flat, conical roof, like the buildings of the port village, but its walls were more exposed. She could see the cracks between the bricks, and grout crumbled off them. He pushed the door open and led the way inside. It was dark, but he lit a lantern with a snap of his fingers¡ªwithout even opening the lantern¡¯s window. Vayra paused right inside the doorway. The house was tidy, but it wasn¡¯t perfect. A table against the far wall was cluttered with papers, and he had a bookshelf, though all the books were either toppled over or leaning. In the corner was a threadbare hammock, as well as a couple metal pots and a rusting musket. ¡°I need some sleep,¡± he told her. ¡°No technique for fire God-heirs to help us stay awake. And you could probably use some, too.¡± Vayra nodded, but she didn¡¯t feel too tired. Her new body felt fresh and ready to do something, and she doubted she could have slept even if she did have a hammock. ¡®Can I suggest trying to find a hammock?¡¯ Phason¨¦ interjected. Nathariel clicked his tongue and said, ¡°I don¡¯t believe that nod.¡± ¡°No, sir, I¡¯m not tired.¡± ¡°Then I have a task for you. It¡¯s simple Go find yourself a hammock; you don¡¯t have to sleep yet. You¡¯ll be here for a while, now, so you¡¯d better have a place to sleep eventually.¡± ¡°What¡­what exactly am I here to learn?¡± she asked. ¡°You fixed the issue I came here with¡­¡± He raised his eyebrows. ¡°There is always more to learn. I will teach you all the secrets that I know of magic. The secrets my teacher passed to me. And maybe then, you will be strong enough that I can set you free. Or maybe you¡¯ll refuse to listen and get yourself killed. Or run away. Or both. Like every other disciple.¡± ¡®Maybe he¡¯s just a bad teacher,¡¯ Phason¨¦ grumbled. Or maybe it was that most God-heirs were like Myrrir and Hammontor, or that Wren woman. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, sir,¡± Vayra said. ¡°That¡¯s what they all tell me. Now, go get yourself a hammock. They¡¯ll be in the shed down by the shore, just past the pasture.¡± Vayra nodded and backed out of the hovel, then walked down to the shore. She wasn¡¯t in any rush; Nathariel needed his sleep. First, she sat down on the shore and looked north. Glade was somewhere to the north, waiting for her. So was Pels, and the Harmony. And a great many bounty hunters. Maybe even a few God-heirs. Hopefully everyone would be alright. She felt a tinge of remorse seeping into her stomach, but she swatted it down. If she didn¡¯t learn to use her magic better, under a proper instructor, Karmion would be unopposed. But her friends¡­ No. After a few hours of sitting and waiting, she dipped her feet in the river and started to absorb some more mana from the passing wisps of Stream water. She could kept cycling. When the sun began to set again, she realized that she still didn¡¯t have a hammock yet. She rushed along the shore until she found a small, winding path. It led past a fenced-off pasture, with three horses waiting inside. Normal horses¡ªwell, she couldn¡¯t see anything unusual about them, at least. They pranced around, whinnying softly or nibbling at the black shrubs growing beneath them. The path wound around past the pasture, leading to a small, wooden shed. She pulled its rickety door open. Among the barrels and crates, there were a few tattered nets and pieces of fabric. There had to be a hammock somewhere mixed in. She pulled out a white sheet from the corner, but it was stuck under a barrel, and the barrel began to wobble. Lunging, she caught it. But once it had fallen, there was no unseeing what waited behind it. Chapter 31: Gathering [Volume 2] The barrels toppled away, revealing a spear. There was no hiding what it was; it had a long shaft wrapped in red leather, and a head made of glistening, sharp amber. The leather was stained and worn, and through the cracks, Vayra could make out the material of the haft¡ªamber as well. She moved closer, then tapped her fingernail on the spearhead. It felt like aged sap, but when she flicked it, it let off a burst of sparks, just like her starsteel bracers would. ¡®That¡¯s¡­Moulded Arcara,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. Vayra inclined her head. ¡°Like our scythe?¡± It too was ¡®moulded¡¯ from Arcara, though it didn¡¯t last as long, nor was it anywhere near as firm as this weapon. ¡®Moulding like this would have taken a skilled Arcane smith. Maybe one of the children of Tessen, God of the Forge.¡¯ ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like Arcara,¡± Vayra said. The Arcara she knew was a glowing white energy inside her body, or a starlight-soaked substance that temporarily burst out of her hand, ready-made into a scythe. ¡®It appears to have been Moulded in tandem with another substance. Amber from an Eres Tree, perhaps.¡¯ ¡°How can you tell?¡± ¡®My spiritual senses were developed long ago. I can see the residual mana with them.¡¯ ¡°How do I get senses like that?¡± ¡®It was¡­one of the early, low stages,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I can¡¯t recall which one it was anymore.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then focussed again on the spear. Was it Nathariel¡¯s? One of his disciples? Or was it just a treasure he¡¯d found in the Night Vale Chambers? She wrapped her hand around the haft, expecting to feel something¡ªmaybe a clue¡ªbut there was nothing. She tried lifting it, but with one hand, she could only pull it an inch or two off the floor. It was heavy. As soon as she put it back down, she heard footsteps behind her. Immediately, her heart began to race, and she spun around. ¡°By all means, keep looking,¡± Nathariel said, walking up the path towards the shed. ¡°I have nothing to hide.¡± Still, she felt a little¡­dirty. Like she¡¯d been snooping some place she shouldn¡¯t have been. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, I¡ª¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t find the hammocks?¡± ¡°I got distracted.¡± ¡°I can see that clear as day.¡± He stopped outside the shed and beckoned her forward with a flick of his hand. He wasn¡¯t wearing a full robe anymore; instead, a sash of fabric ran across his chest, tucked into his pants. His bare chest was covered in scars and burn marks, and she even noticed a patch of skin that had been replaced with fabric and a net of starsteel wires. She cleared her throat, then asked, ¡°What was that spear?¡± ¡°The spear? An old trinket I¡¯ve used from time to time.¡± He turned away and began to walk back towards the pasture. ¡°I found the spearhead in the Chambers. An old experiment of the Dragon Gods. They probably tried enchanting it, but I couldn¡¯t do much with it.¡± ¡°Did you Mould it into a full spear?¡± ¡°No.¡± He kept walking down the path until he reached the pasture, then pushed open a gate. ¡°I brought it to someone else who could. And they made it into a weapon for me. It¡¯s sharp, and it is a good vessel for funnelling my power. But there is nothing special about it.¡± Vayra walked up to the pasture¡¯s fence and leaned on it. ¡°Nothing?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he said. He reached up and grabbed one of the horse¡¯s bridles. It was a spotted stallion, with defined muscles and well-groomed fur. ¡°There is very little that is special about me.¡± ¡°But¡­you¡¯re an Admiral! You made it this far.¡± ¡°And look what I have to show for it.¡± He released the horse¡¯s bridle and motioned to himself. He tapped the fabric-starsteel patch above his liver, then traced a line of scarred flesh away from it with his finger. ¡°This is the cost of five hundred years pursuing power. It is not pretty; at a certain stage, your body stops being remade. It is not glorious. It is a mad scramble.¡± He paused, then raised a hand to his eye. He tapped his left eye, and it set off a burst of sparks, just like the spearhead did. ¡°Not real, either.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong.¡± Nathariel turned back to the horse. He walked back to its saddle and tightened the straps. ¡°I would do this again and again, because it is the right thing to do. Without power, I cannot protect the helpless; I cannot destroy the God-heirs who threaten the peace. My regrets amount to not doing enough while I could.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Vayra ran her hand along the pasture fence, feeling the rough bark. It felt rougher today, but that was probably because her remade body still had smooth skin and no calluses. ¡°Where are you going, then?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to collect your companion,¡± he said. ¡°The Order Disciple.¡± ¡°You need a horse? I thought you could travel faster.¡± ¡°I can travel very, very fast for short distances,¡± he said. ¡°But eventually, my Bracing techniques will destroy my body.¡± Then, he laughed under his breath, and added, ¡°And I couldn¡¯t bring your friend back to us without first turning his body to a crisp.¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°While I¡¯m gone, I have training for you,¡± he said, climbing into the saddle of the horse. ¡°The Master¡¯s Mate stage is an intermediate stage. You will need to strengthen your core before developing your magic any further.¡± ¡°H¡ªhow?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t teach you the Burnished Flame Loop for laughs.¡± ¡°For¡­mana purification? To purify vast amounts of it in a short period of time?¡± Nathariel put his hands on his hips and sighed. ¡°Well, yes, but aside from that. It will strengthen your core. I will return in a few weeks¡ªI expect you to have advanced to Master by then.¡± A crunch of gravel awoke Glade. He leapt to his feet, holding his sword at his side. In the distance, along the path, a pair of travellers climbed up towards the entrance of the Chambers. They both wore light, loose coats, and shawls emblazoned with the colours of the Kudmen Chambers Company¡ªwhite, yellow, red, and blue, in that order. Either they were here to raid the Chambers, or they were testing a new company disciple. But no matter which, they would interrupt Vayra¡¯s progress. Perhaps they would find her. Glade wasn¡¯t delusional; he had heard enough about Chambers to know what awaited someone inside them. Vayra wouldn¡¯t die¡ªhe was certain of that¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t bear to imagine how battered and tired she was. If someone else found her, they might take their chance to snuff her out. The Chambers Company was a branch of Elderworld commerce. Glade ducked behind a rock to keep himself out of sight. The way one of the companymen carried himself, he had to be a God-heir. The good news was that Glade had very little magical talent himself. They wouldn¡¯t sense him until it was too late. When they reached the ledge, Glade pounced. He aimed for the weaker of the two, a human who walked with normal caution up a steep slope. Glade drove his sword through the human companyman¡¯s neck before he could cry out. As the man¡¯s body collapsed, Glade pulled a flintlock pistol from the man¡¯s cumberbund. It was loaded and cocked. Glade pointed it at the other companyman and fired it. The second man stomped his foot down, and a blocky shaft of stone rose out of the ledge to meet the shot. The God-heir, with command over stone. Casting the pistol aside, Glade raised his sword. The comapanyman punched off a shard of stone from the top of his block, sending it flying towards Glade. Glade swatted it out of the air, then dove towards the entrance to the Chambers. It wasn¡¯t open, but he wanted to be as far from the ledge¡¯s edge as he could be. The companyman sent another two stone shards flying towards Glade¡¯s head, and Glade dropped to the ground. The shards shattered harmlessly against the bricks behind him. The God-heir companyman had run out of stone to punch easily. Glade, lunged, stabbing with his sword. The companyman summoned a glove of brown gravel to his hand. He caught and blocked the sword. Glade shut his eyes. He didn¡¯t know how strong this God-heir was, nor did he want to find out. He needed to end the fight quickly. He inhaled, trying to feel a thin stream of Arcara flowing through his body. It was desperate, but it might give him the edge he needed. But that would mean he needed a technique¡­ He inhaled, letting the adrenaline of the battle fuel his lungs, then exhaled and pushed. For the first time in his life, the thin stream of soft, white Arcara pulsed out to his arms. The companyman burst into flames. From the inside out, his body lit up with orange light. He screamed, clawing at his skin, until the fire burned to the outside and silenced him. In a blink, all that remained was ash. Glade¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°I¡­did not¡ª¡± ¡°No, you didn¡¯t do that.¡± A man rounded the corner, ascending the path the same as the companymen had. He was riding atop a horse, and he wore a white sash and baggy white pants. A small fire burned in the palm of his hand. Atop his head, he wore a tattered tricorn hat. Glade swallowed, then pushed himself away from the wall. He flourished his sword. A fire-wielding God-heir? There was really only one person who this could be. ¡°I¡¯m not here to kill you, boy,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Though I don¡¯t suppose the Order¡¯s opinions on me have changed much in the past few decades.¡± ¡°You would be correct,¡± Glade replied. He kept his sword raised. There was no way he could fight Nathariel, but he looked around for a place to run¡ªin case talking went poorly. ¡°We came to¡ª¡± ¡°I know exactly why you¡¯re here. The Mediator, especially.¡± ¡°Then¡­¡± ¡°Put the sword down,¡± Nathariel snapped. ¡°I found her. She is safe, and you will be pleased to know that she has advanced.¡± He dismounted from his horse. ¡°I¡¯m here to bring you to her. If you are willing.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Glade contemplated the situation in his mind for a little while. It was possible that Nathariel was trying to trap him, but¡­truly, if the God-heir had wanted him dead, he¡¯d have been a pile of ash a few weeks ago. ¡°I will come. But¡­I do not know the way through the Chambers, and I am not equipped.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t suppose that a God-heir like me would be willing to bring you through, did you? We¡¯re going over the top. A direct, fast route.¡± ¡°But the volcanoes¡ª¡± ¡°You don¡¯t suppose that I¡¯ve gotten skilled at dodging eruptions, after living here for centuries? Or that I couldn¡¯t hold their power at bay long enough to pass?¡± ¡°Well¡­I¡ª¡± ¡°Just hop on the horse, boy.¡± Chapter 32: Machinations of a Pirate Cultivator [Volume 2] Myrrir had arrived on Muspellar a week ago, but he¡¯d done his best to lie low. Between Wren, the exile imposed by his father, and the privateers he was meant to be hunting, he wasn¡¯t exactly the most welcome person on an Elderworld planet. First, he had arrived in the planet¡¯s southern oceans, only to learn that the privateers were causing problems on the planet¡¯s northern seas. So they spent another day travelling the Stream, navigating out through the network of rivers that ran through the star system. They raced towards the system¡¯s star, then looped back towards the north pole. When they made it back to the northern seas of Muspellar, Tye had asked, ¡°Myrrir, why the privateers?¡± ¡°They¡¯re the Mediator¡¯s crew,¡± Myrrir had answered. ¡°If they¡¯re out here, then she could be anywhere on the planet. Hopefully, with them.¡± ¡°A planet is a large place to search...¡± ¡°She can¡¯t have gotten far.¡± They arrived in the atmosphere and headed towards the planet¡¯s largest Stream-facing port. It was a city of respectable size, with a core of tall, stacked towers, and outskirts stretching far along the black-rock coast. Its port beckoned mainly to cargo haulers, but security was incredibly tight¡ªno doubt the fault of the Mediator¡¯s crew. A cluster of Elderworld frigates floated offshore, and a first-rate ship of the line was anchored in the center of the harbour. A frigate stopped the Hyovao at the outskirts of the port for an inspection. It caught them with grapples, then extended a gangway over. A party of bluecoats marched onto the Hyovao, muskets cocked and ready. At their center was a lower-class officer of some sort in a brown and gold coat. He looked around the deck nervously. Myrrir¡¯s crew gathered around the bluecoats, weapons in-hand. They were an intimidating bunch, no doubt, but Myrrir didn¡¯t need any trouble. He ran down to the main deck and raised his hand, signalling the crew to stand down with a whistle and a wave of his hand. Then, he approached the Elderworld officer, an elf with a powdered wig and a bicorne hat. ¡°What is your purpose on Muspellar?¡± the officer demanded. ¡°We carry cargo,¡± said Myrrir. ¡°Tea.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see any,¡± said the officer, glancing around. Aside from the cannons, crew, and longboats, the Hyovao¡¯s main deck was empty. Normally, Myrrir would have scoffed. No cargo-hauler with an ounce of competence would have kept their cargo on the main deck. But the Hyovao was a junk, and for lack of space below deck, many junk captains carried extra cargo on their main deck. Myrrir shrugged. ¡°There was a Stream storm a few miles out. We stowed what we couldn¡¯t fit in below in the great cabin.¡± He motioned towards the stern, to his cabin, then bluffed, ¡°You can check if you¡¯d like.¡± The officer clicked his tongue, then turned away. ¡°That¡¯s¡­alright. Carry on.¡± Myrrir let out his breath, then helped free his ship from the grapples. He was lucky they didn¡¯t recognize him. Or perhaps they hadn¡¯t yet received word yet of his disgrace. Either way, Myrrir took what luck he could get. They sailed onwards and found a berth in the port. It was meant for ore-hauling ships, and the Hyovao was much smaller than the harbour¡¯s usual guests. When the portmaster began to inquire about the supposed tea, Myrrir paid him a sum of gold to turn a blind eye to the ship. As soon as they arrived, Myrrir turned to Tye and said, ¡°We¡¯ll find the Mediator, I promise. We can ask around, and we still have half of the sum we promised to Wren, which we can use to buy information.¡± ¡°That will dry up very quickly if you keep bribing portmasters,¡± Tye replied. ¡°I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡± After a short pause, Tye said, ¡°How long will you continue this game of cat-and-mouse, hm? You find her, then what? You imprison her again? You don¡¯t have another Shadowthorn, and even if you did, would it work again?¡± ¡°She can still over-extend herself. She can still knock herself out, or¡ª¡± ¡°And then what?¡± Tye growled. ¡°You aren¡¯t thinking, Myrrir. You have no plan. You¡¯re making enemies left and right. How much longer will this last?¡± ¡°So you¡­what? Want me to give up?¡± ¡°Myrrir, my captain¡­¡± ¡°Commodore.¡± ¡°You will always be our captain.¡± Tye¡¯s face scrunched, until it turned into a messy blend of sadness, frustration, and anger. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like Hammontor. And he is not one you want to imitate.¡± If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°I¡¯m striving for what I was promised. My birthright, the strength of Gods.¡± ¡°And there is nobility in ambition.¡± Tye leaned against the railing and stared down into the water. ¡°I respect a man who sees a mountain and climbs it for the sake of climbing. But I cannot respect the man who must climb every mountain. Ambition is an elixir that requires moderation.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re starting to sound like a Velaydian.¡± Myrrir shook his head. ¡°Next, you¡¯ll tell me to accept a king with no Spirit Potential.¡± For a moment, they stood at the quarterdeck railing, staring silently across the harbour. Myrrir knew he should stomp away. It would be what a God-heir would do¡ª No. A God-heir would have eradicated this mortal for speaking in such a manner, then for good measure, would have purged their entire family and kinship. Myrrir didn¡¯t move. ¡°Myrrir, when my daughter¡ª¡± ¡°I know about your daughter,¡± Myrrir said softly. ¡°I can¡¯t replace her. She¡¯s gone. I have my quest, and it¡¯s to be a God. Either you help me, or you don¡¯t. But at some point, this nagging¡­it¡¯s going to become too much.¡± He didn¡¯t mean for it to sound like a threat, but there was no way it came across kindly, either. Tye stayed silent for a few more seconds, then said, ¡°A plan, then? How are we going to catch her?¡± ¡°I figure we should make her come to us.¡± ¡°And to imprison her?¡± ¡°This is a mining planet.¡± Myrrir glanced back towards the shore, and at a high shelf of rock above. A small set of buildings clung to it, raising and lowering supplies down to the shore on a complex system of pulleys. ¡°If they can contain lava, I figure there¡¯s some equipment we can use to contain a Mediator.¡± Wren watched her competition prepare. In fact, she spent a few days staring at them, trying to figure out their plan. Myrrir crept ashore with his first officer and a couple of his most trusted crew. Wren followed them, keeping to a safe distance, and keeping her core quiet by restricting her breathing. Besides, her low Spirit Potential would make her even more difficult to detect. Myrrir and his pirates rode through the city on a pack of horses. She followed them from a distance, leaping from building-to-building with a flutter of her wings. Then, when they raced out into the barren wastelands, she followed them by springing between spires of rock as she chased after them. They travelled for two days, until they arrived at a small encampment nestled into the foothills of the mountain range. It was a little town, made mostly out of tents. Fires burned out in the streets, and convoys of wagons rested. Most of the wagons were heaped with stone or ores. She waited at the outskirts of the camp, perched atop a stone spire, watching Myrrir. He was asking the local camp-dwellers for directions. There were a few people dressed in Chambers Company garb, but the camp was largely home to workers in plain, ash-smudged uniforms. After a few minutes, one of the workers began to approach the spire that Wren was sitting on. He must have seen her. She couldn¡¯t have him causing a scene. As soon as the worker made it out of the outskirts of the village, she drew a shard of wood from a small quiver around her waist, then imbued it with Arcara. The worker kept approaching. Wren¡¯s range with the shards was limited¡ªafter a short distance, she wouldn¡¯t be able to propel it any further with Arcara, and it would have to fly on its own merit. A shard wasn¡¯t the best at that; it wasn¡¯t an arrow. The moment the worker was in range, she flung the shard of wood at him. It pierced through his chest and pinned him to the ground. Soon, someone would notice. Wren dove down and dragged the worker¡¯s body behind a ledge of black stone, then retrieved her shard of wood. It still had retained most of the Arcara she had fed it, which she also absorbed back into her body. ¡°Ah, the wonders of wood,¡± she muttered, then wiped the blood off the shard. A being with a weak spirit, like her, wasn¡¯t gifted a realm of control from birth, and a Path? She didn¡¯t have an ancestral Path to follow. But as Wren grew stronger, the Victra scholars had determined that she had an affinity for wood. So that was what she had chosen to cultivate. A few runic tattoos along her spine, a few spirit-pine needles embedded in her skin, and constant consumption of the edible bark of the syniim tree¡­well, it had contributed to her Path. It had been at the demands of her family, at first. They wanted their prodigal daughter to experience the life of a God-heir, and they had the funds to make it happen. The moment Wren had gotten a taste of power, she was never able to forget it. Everything else was done by her. She¡¯d do this too. Clenching her fists, she leapt up to the top of the spire again and gazed at the camp. Myrrir was moving on, and if she didn¡¯t catch up, he¡¯d leave her in the dust¡ªwith no inkling of what his plan was. He and his men rode south for another day, until they reached a large, complex structure that crouched in the shadow of the mountains. Built on the bank of a dry riverbed, the structure had a utilitarian, angular shape. Its sloped walls were made of umber bricks and pure, smithed steel. The lowest sections, those closest to the riverbed, were shielded with plates of expensive, Arcara-enchanted metal. The riverbed wasn¡¯t just a riverbed, then. Wren fluttered to the shore and knelt by it. The rocks were glazed over with a glass-like substance. Some were obsidian, and some had just melted. This was the path of an occasional lava flow. Already, workers chipped the riverbed out, making way for more precious, mineral-rich molten rock to flow their way. It was a mining facility. It would have incredibly durable, strong containers¡ªperfect for capturing someone with powerful arcane abilities. ¡°Oh, Myrrir, you schemer¡­¡± Wren muttered to herself in a sing-song voice. Then, she wove her fingers together. ¡°You need to lure her out, then? How will you do that, I wonder?¡± For a moment, Wren did wonder that herself. ¡°The privateers. The Mediator¡¯s friends¡­he¡¯ll need them, too.¡± With an enormous grin, Wren spun about. She leapt off the edge of the riverbed edge, then took flight. With a flutter of her wings, she launched herself up into the sky. ¡°And how will you fare, I wonder, if she has warning¡­? Not enough time to spring your trap on her, but enough time to weaken her. How hard would it be for a competitor to swoop in?¡± Wren¡¯s conversation with herself ended in a cackle. She swung her body around and fluttered towards the mountains. Chapter 33: Journey to Master [Volume 2] Every morning, Vayra rolled out of her hammock and began her routine. She spent three hours practicing the Burnished Flame Loop, trying to hold the pattern for longer and longer. Phason¨¦ told her that, eventually, she¡¯d be able to hold the more complex cycling techniques for days at a time, even months. Vayra used one of the silver pills that the Order had given her. She let it sit on her tongue and dissolve, then absorbed it into her body and her Arcara channels. Nothing felt different immediately. She wasn¡¯t able to hold the Loop for more than a few hours at a time, but every day, it felt like she pushed herself a minute or two longer. She didn¡¯t really know; she didn¡¯t have a clock or a way to tell time. About halfway through the day, she always stopped and delved into Nathariel¡¯s cellar, where he kept a supply of food and other assorted equipment that she didn¡¯t understand. The food was barely edible¡ªhardtack, dry bread, or jars of pickled vegetables. She wasn¡¯t sure what she was supposed to eat, or allowed to. ¡®Keeping a balanced diet is important to advancing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®And for your health. Don¡¯t need you getting scurvy, now, do we?¡¯ In the afternoons, Vayra explored a little. She didn¡¯t stray too far from the hovel, but she tried to get a feel for the surrounding land. Eventually, the horses warmed up to her enough that she could mount one and ride it around. When she returned, she settled into a round of exercises. To improve her endurance, she ran laps around the edge of the hovel¡¯s cleared land¡ªwhere the skeletal black trees had all been chopped, and only black vines slithering along the ground. As soon as stars appeared on the horizon, she started to practice her techniques. She wanted to get better at imbuing her limbs with the strength of starlight Arcara. Right now, she couldn¡¯t find a way to pull it directly from the sky. The best she could do was give Phason¨¦ control of a limb, but that wasn¡¯t the same as strengthening it. When she pulled the distant astral energies into her body, there just wasn¡¯t enough at once to put into a Bracing technique. So, instead, she relied on forming her seer-core, letting the light-Arcara mixture get strong and bright, then dispelling it and immediately sucking the accumulation into her body. ¡®The best Bracing techniques are ones that envelop the full body, but this is a decent start,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. Vayra only managed to maintain the Bracing for a few minutes at a time. It bled Arcara out into the environment, and once it was gone, it was gone. She found that she could run out of loose Arcara just as easily as she could run out of mana. The first time it had happened, and she realized that she was losing Arcara, she caught her breath and dispelled the technique immediately. To be safe, she pulled herself into Phason¨¦¡¯s void. It was a realm of blank white light, supposedly at the center of her core, where the Goddess resided. A veil of blank white light fell over Vayra¡¯s eyes, and her stomach rose. She felt like she was falling, but she¡¯d been to the void many times before. All she had to do was tighten her arms and stop flailing. The falling sensation stopped. Vayra spun around. The ground beneath her feet didn¡¯t feel very firm, and the only reason she knew she was turning was because Phason¨¦ came into view. The Goddess stood a few feet away, wearing her usual black dress¡ªso dark it looked like the void of space. A few magenta starry pinpricks clung to the long skirt, which didn¡¯t move with the dress when Phason¨¦ stepped forward. ¡°Haven¡¯t seen you here for a while,¡± Phason¨¦ said. Her voice, inside the void, didn¡¯t seem as confident, nor did it rattle around Vayra¡¯s head. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°When I¡¯m in here, time outside moves super slow, right?¡± Vayra said. ¡°That should go for the leaking Arcara, too, right?¡± ¡°Oh, that?¡± Phason¨¦ shrugged. ¡°Not a massive concern. Lots of techniques leak Arcara, even just a little bit. Your Starlight Palm does, too.¡± ¡°Yeah, but not this much. How much longer will it take to advance if I¡¯m leaking so much of it?¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Phason¨¦ groaned. ¡°You don¡¯t know¡ªright. Discarded. No education, all that. Advancement isn¡¯t truly determined by how much Arcara you have, but how much you¡¯ve expanded your core and prepared it for the next stage. As well as other factors, such as the preparedness of your body or your channels, all that.¡± She walked closer to Vayra, then nudged her. ¡°Don¡¯t freak out; that¡¯s my job. Your core¡¯s purpose is to store Arcara, but sometimes you will need to use it. And that¡¯s alright.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°But¡­I will need lots of Arcara while trying to advance, right?¡± ¡°Of course. It¡¯ll make the process smoother. For every stage of advancement.¡± For a few more minutes, Vayra stood with Phason¨¦, before finally asking, ¡°So¡­how powerful are you? Or, would have been, if you weren¡¯t trapped inside me?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to demotivate you¡­¡± Vayra snorted. ¡°I can handle it.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re in the lowest realm,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Named after the lowest naval ranks. Then there¡¯s the Realm of the Flag Officers, with the higher ranks. Beyond that¡­past the peak of Grand Admiral, you technically ascend to the Realm of the Gods. Which has its own stages of advancement.¡± ¡°There aren¡¯t any ranks after the Admirals, though, right?¡± ¡°We are called Emissaries, at the lowest stage of a God¡¯s power.¡± Vayra nodded, then gulped. She had started to feel like her task was manageable, but thinking of all the ranks and steps ahead of her, she wasn¡¯t so sure anymore. If she was staring up at the peak of a mountain, the mountain had just doubled in height. She didn¡¯t even have a rope to help her climb. ¡°But you do have Nathariel, now,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°And, though my teaching ability may be limited for the moment, I¡¯ll always be here.¡± ¡°You have to be. Or we¡¯ll die.¡± Phason¨¦ opened her mouth, then closed it again. She raised a finger, then shook her head and finally said, ¡°But I do mean it. I¡¯d stick with you even if I didn¡¯t have to.¡± ¡°...Thanks. Really.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Phason¨¦ nudged Vayra again. ¡°It is good to see you back in here. In person. Having someone to talk to, rather than trying to watch through your eyes and thoughts.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad I could help.¡± Vayra looked down, then sat down. ¡°I do have time to stay, though. Especially since time slows here.¡± Vayra added a new step to her routine after that first visit¡ªat the end of the day, she dropped into the white void and took a moment to think about something other than advancement and magic and her duty as Mediator. And, most importantly, she just spent time talking with Phason¨¦. It was good to get to know the immortal being in your head, Vayra figured. Even though Phason¨¦ could read Vayra¡¯s thoughts, Vayra couldn¡¯t return the favour. She had to ask questions. ¡°Homeworld?¡± ¡°Perrenia. ¡± ¡°What¡¯s it like?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tropical world with a white sun, near the core.¡± And on and on. After two and a half weeks of the routine, Vayra began to advance from Master¡¯s Mate to Master. The transformation from the intermediary stage began slowly, at first, until she felt an abnormally strong tug at her core. The process barely took any guidance from her. She shut her eyes and clenched her gut, then guided her mana around her body. It was a simple act of compression¡ªguiding the mana to tighten in her core and compress the swirling ball of white light down until it was the size of a marble. Within a few minutes, it was done. She sat on the shore of the river, panting, but feeling refreshed. Everything itched and she wanted to keep moving. Since her legs had been resting in the river, a few stray wisps of Stream water had brushed past, replenishing her mana. She breathed in, cycling her Arcara with an easier, less efficient pattern. As soon as little bits of Arcara began to pulse around her veins, she looked down. The little blades of gray grass around her feet all shivered, then pulsed away from her as if blown by a slight breeze. Vayra raised her eyebrows. Already, she could feel the boost in pushing strength this new core seemed to have. ¡°Any idea what we¡¯re working on at Master?¡± she asked aloud. ¡®That¡¯s a question better saved for Nathariel,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied inside her mind. ¡®Those few years are still a bit of a blur for me.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then shut her eyes and whispered Phason¨¦¡¯s name, dragging herself back into the white void. The light passed over her vision, shining between her eyelids and eyes, and she began to fall again. She caught herself and walked back to Phason¨¦. The Goddess sat on the void¡¯s invisible floor, staring off into the blankness. ¡°Were you meditating? Or¡­cycling?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°What happens to your advancement while you¡¯re with me?¡± ¡°Nothing. It stalls, for now.¡± Phason¨¦ turned her head and looked back at Vayra. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to start feeding me your mana reserves at some point. I believe¡­when you reach Lieutenant, and start dealing with proper magnitudes of power.¡± ¡°Until then?¡± ¡°My power is frozen.¡± Vayra winced, recalling what it had felt like when her power had been frozen by the Shadowthorn. Trapped in a desert, no source of mana anywhere nearby, and no way to use her magic. She walked closer to Phason¨¦ and sat down beside the Goddess. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. I wanted this, more than anything.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°The Mediator is the galaxy¡¯s way of keeping balance. Karmion might be stronger than anyone else, but nature will raise a Mediator to match him.¡± Phason¨¦ leaned back on her hands, her eyes glistening. ¡°He killed my brother.¡± Vayra rolled her lips inward and breathed out, then leaned her head against the Goddess¡¯ shoulder. It was warm, smooth, and soft. Something about it felt comforting, but Vayra wanted to radiate that comfort outward and give it back to Phason¨¦. ¡°The mountain might have gotten taller, but I¡¯m not giving up. We¡¯re climbing, so long as I have anything to say about it.¡± ¡°I appreciate the sentiment, but¡ª¡± ¡°Just let me encourage you for once, Phas.¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t mean to be a bother, but Nathariel is coming back. He¡¯s walking up the path, and he¡¯s got a friend.¡± Chapter 34: Spiritual Sight [Volume 2] Vayra opened her eyes, pushing away the white light of the void. She was still standing at the edge of the river, but she began to walk back towards the hut. Halfway up the slope, she spotted a horse with two riders trotting along the path to the house. At the front was Nathariel, holding the reins. Glade sat behind him, with his black coat tied around his waist and the sleeves of his tunic rolled up to his shoulders. As soon as they began to trot up the slope towards the hovel, Glade dismounted and ran towards her. He paused in front of her, then looked her up and down and nodded. ¡°Congratulations. You are¡­starting to look like a proper Mediator.¡± ¡°I told you it¡¯d work out,¡± she said. ¡°We are not offworld yet.¡± He glanced back at Nathariel cautiously. ¡®He¡¯s always got to bring things down, doesn¡¯t he?¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. Vayra grimaced, but she knew he wasn¡¯t wrong. Nathariel rode his horse back towards the pasture, then urged it to jump the fence. It did so easily. He dismounted, then vaulted back over to the other side and walked back towards them. A shiver ran down Vayra¡¯s spine as he drew closer, like an extension of the tingling feeling in her neck, except it pushed all the way down to her tailbone. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked. ¡®That¡¯s what it feels like when someone stronger than you observes your core and channels,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®In other words, Nathariel stared at your spirit. He¡¯s done it before, but you weren¡¯t powerful enough to notice.¡¯ After a few seconds, the Goddess gasped and exclaimed, ¡®Oh, I¡¯ve got it, now! At Master, you¡¯re developing your spiritual senses. Seeing other people¡¯s cores and channels, and noticing mana systems and sources¡­¡¯ ¡°You felt it this time,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°Good. I arrived just in time.¡± ¡°Just in time?¡± ¡°To help you progress through Master with the best efficiency you can. To bring you to the peak and develop your senses as much as we can, before your advancement locks them in.¡± He lowered his head and began to march back to the hovel. ¡°But first, dinner. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve eaten everything?¡± ¡°Not everything,¡± she said. The sun was already setting, and Vayra¡¯s stomach was growling. Glade headed down to the river to wash off, and Vayra and Nathariel walked up to the hovel to prepare dinner. Nathariel, it seemed, wasn¡¯t tired of the heat¡ªhe said he wanted soup, so they made one. He sent her to the garden to pluck vegetables. There were a few pale gray tubers behind the hovel, buried in the black dirt. She pulled on their heads and they popped out of the ground easily, just like carrots. When she returned, she found that he¡¯d already retrieved a set of vines from the side of the house. They were stiff, and when he cracked them in half, they let off a puff of embers and¡­blue sparks? ¡°These vines send roots all the way down to the river, slowly absorbing mana from the spirit-water that filters in,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°You saw the sparks?.¡± Vayra set the vegetables she¡¯d carried down on the table and said, ¡°Should I have?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He passed her a steel knife and said, ¡°Mind chopping them for me?¡± She nodded, then turned to the counter, where he had laid out the cracked vines. She began to cut them into small little rounds, as she had seen the elven nuns at Old Uckoe¡¯s theatre do. With each cut, they released another puff of blue sparks. ¡°That is your spiritual sight beginning to awaken,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It will take a while to control it.¡± With every round of the vine she cut, more and more sparks flew up into the air. They began to cloud her vision and swirl in front of her eyes. She began to feel as though she was cutting onions, however, instead of searing the surface of her eyes, it started to sting the Arcara channels behind them. ¡°Sir¡­¡± Vayra began, rubbing her eyes. A pit formed in her stomach. ¡®When I use my spiritual vision, it almost feels like putting a monocle on,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It helps it¡­not be overwhelming.¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t know what that felt like. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡®Right. Uh, imagine, uh¡­it¡¯s just instinct now, for me, so¡­¡¯ ¡°Imagine your vision clearing after a long night of sleep,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°Shut your eyes and hold them shut.¡± Vayra did as she was instructed. It didn¡¯t make the sting disappear, but she couldn¡¯t see anything. She turned away. ¡°You have a body built for this,¡± Nathariel told her. ¡°Push Arcara through the channels in your head and flush them, then open your eyes. Let them focus.¡± Vayra took a deep breath and, with a push of her mana, sent a wave of energy up to her head. After it passed through, her channels stopped stinging. She opened her eyes, and for a moment, she let everything be blurry. As soon as she turned back towards the vines and the radiating blue sparks, she let her eyes focus. The blue sparks disappeared. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked. ¡°You were seeing ambient mana,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Before, you could only see it when it was in extraordinarily high quantities. It¡¯s what gives Stream water its bluish tint. You also saw some when you were advancing, yes?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Now, you will see it all the time. But it will take refining to be useful.¡± She kept cutting the vines. A few more times, she had to wrangle her spiritual vision back under control, but she managed. Glade returned, washed and clean, and Nathariel tasked him with stirring the broth¡ªthey set up a pot on a fire outside, so it didn¡¯t make the inside of the hovel any hotter than it already was. In a half hour, the soup was finished. ¡°Imagine you¡¯re squinting at it,¡± Nathariel instructed, holding out a bowl filled with pale broth, chopped vegetables, and strips of meat. ¡°But don¡¯t narrow your eyes.¡± Vayra tried, but ended up clenching her gut instead. She did her best to replicate the same feeling in her face, around her eyes, and slowly, she began to trace glowing blue lines through the broth with her eyes. They swirled like fish in a pond, though without any fish-like features. ¡°I see¡­something,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re seeing the mana we distilled from the vines,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Useful mana, absorbable mana, energy ready to be integrated into your spirit.¡± He handed her the bowl and a spoon, and said, ¡°Eat. Both of you. You will need it.¡± She glanced back at Glade. He took a bowl nervously from Nathariel, but still bowed his head. ¡°Your friend managed to cycle,¡± Nathariel told her. ¡°He is growing more powerful, and he may grow quite strong¡ªfor someone with a Fair Spirit¡ªwith proper nourishment. I would be happy to have him as a¡­student as well.¡± Vayra took a single spoonful of her soup and swallowed it. It ran down her throat, tingling with energy and filling her stomach with swirling power. Like she was dealing with an elixir, she allowed the energy to fade outward into her body. ¡°Eat well, then get some sleep,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°Early tomorrow morning, your true training will begin.¡± The next morning, Vayra awoke to the sound of metallic crashing outside. She nearly rolled off her hammock, but she spread her arms and caught her balance again. Slowly, she slipped out of the hammock. Hers had been strung across the corner of Nathariel¡¯s hovel opposite to the door, and Glade¡¯s hung in the other corner. As far as she could tell, he was still asleep. Nathariel¡¯s hammock, positioned in the third corner, was empty. Vayra slipped out of her hammock and stepped softly to the door. A dreary, ash-smeared morning light filtered through the haze, along with a few stars. She pushed the door open a crack and leaned outside. Nathariel stood in front of the shed, dragging rusted metal objects out its doors and along the path. They were shaped almost like humans, though they lacked detail. Their torsos were made entirely out of metal rings, which freely rotated. She figured they were training dummies, though she couldn¡¯t yet discern how they worked. Nathariel grumbled to himself as he dragged the dummies along the path. ¡°You¡¯ll fail with these two as well,¡± he said in a low voice. ¡°They¡¯ll turn out like all the other God-heirs. They¡¯ll turn against you.¡± The dummy bumped against a stone, wobbling, and he grunted in frustration. ¡°And you¡¯ll have created a dark Mediator, now, won¡¯t you? Oh, Nathariel, you fool. You never learn.¡± Another bump, and another groan. ¡°When will you just give up? You were never meant to be a hero¡­¡± He had set out a small row of four dummies, and the one he was dragging was a fifth. Vayra tensed the muscles around her eyes like she was squinting, but she couldn¡¯t sense any mana radiating off the dummies. They seemed to be normal, engineered, and non-magical. As soon as he set the fifth dummy down, he turned around and spotted her peering through the doorway. ¡°Good morning,¡± he muttered, straightening up rubbing the back of his head¡ªas if he¡¯d been saying nothing before. ¡°Are you ready to get started?¡± Vayra stepped out of the doorway, then walked down the path towards him. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± Nathariel patted one of the dummies. ¡°These are the old training totems given to me by my old master. The other fifteen are scattered throughout the woods, along a course. I make every disciple run it, but they¡¯re tuned for much more powerful trainees.¡± He turned towards the dummy, then drove a palm filled with flame into its gut. The disk rotated, and a steel bar shot out at chest level. Nathariel pushed the bar to the side. The flame-imbued Arcara that he thrust into it earlier ran along invisible channels in the dunny¡¯s sides, which wound back around to the totem¡¯s mouth and flared out towards him. He ducked under it, then struck it hard in the chest. Bolts at its base released, and it toppled over on a hinge. When Vayra stepped closer, she noticed thin channels of starsteel glinting up the sides of the dummy, perfect for carrying Arcara. ¡°Your task is to knock over all fifteen of the dummies,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I don¡¯t expect success today, but I expect it soon.¡± ¡°But¡­sir,¡± Vayra began. ¡°The sun is rising.¡± ¡°Do you think all your foes will be kind enough to face you during the night, or when the stars are out?¡± He shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ll have to find a workaround.¡± As quickly as she could, Vayra gathered up her seer-core and filled it with as much starlight as she could. It would have to last her all day. ¡°Go ahead,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°Get started.¡± Chapter 35: Training Course [Volume 2] The training course cut through the woods in a massive loop around Nathariel¡¯s hovel. A worn down, well-trodden path guided her. The ground was packed tight, but black vines crept across it, threatening to trip her. It was designed for someone much stronger than Vayra¡ªsomeone who could plow straight through the undergrowth without even flinching. When she first realized, she faced a wide gully more than ten feet across. At the bottom was a trickle of magma, and on the other side, the path continued. She was supposed to use her enhanced body to leap across, she knew, but she had no enhanced body. ¡°We¡¯ll have to jump it,¡± she said, holding out the hand that she carried the seer-core with. The magma was far below, and simmered, awaiting her. She wasn¡¯t sure how bad it would be if she fell into it, but it was much hotter than flame, and she didn¡¯t want to find out. ¡°Phas, how did you store starlight during the day?¡± ¡®I didn¡¯t ever need to store it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ answered. ¡®My dresses are cut from the Sky Window, an Arcara-enchanted treasure¡ªa piece of fabric that always has a view of the night sky plastered to it. The good thing is that it was also a window, and I could draw in starlight from it.¡¯ Vayra looked up at the sky. There were still a few stars glimmering on the horizon, but in a minute or two, she knew they would be gone. She had to get across the gully quickly. If Bracing her arms with starlight could enhance them enough to help her destroy a magmaspawn, then the same could work for her legs. She shook her hand, dispelling the seer-core, then drew in the retreating wisps of starlight. Pushing them down through her body, she fuelled her legs with the white energy. ¡°I¡¯m jumping.¡± She took a step back, her legs stiffening. Each step she took seemed heavy, but it took almost no effort whatsoever to move her legs. They felt like loaded springs, ready to fire at a moment¡¯s notice. She crouched, then bounded forwards. As soon as she reached the edge of the ravine, she pushed off, trying to throw herself into the furthest jump she¡¯d ever managed. Her legs pushed off with a blast of starlight and a rush of wind, and she sprung across the gully¡ª Almost. Her fingers caught the stone edge on the other side, and the rest of her body slammed down into the rocky ledge. Her legs smashed into the stone wall, but Braced with starlight-Arcara, they instead shattered the stone. The rest of her body, however, wasn¡¯t protected. Her ribs slammed into the rocky wall, and a jolt of pain ran through her body. Nothing felt broken¡ªshe¡¯d cracked enough bones to know what it felt like¡ªbut it still took her a few seconds to catch her breath. She hauled herself up to the other side like she was climbing up onto a rooftop in Tavelle. ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered to Phason¨¦, then held out her hand and reformed her seer-core from the stars on the horizon. It was a slow process, and she only managed to form the core about halfway before the stars faded away. ¡®That isn¡¯t ideal,¡¯ the Goddess said. ¡°Not really,¡± Vayra agreed. But there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it¡ªexcept to continue along the training course. She sprinted through the woods, following the trail and pushing through shrubs. A few trees had fallen over the path. She leapt over the ones she could, and slid under the ones that she couldn¡¯t. The deeper she ran into the woods, the thicker the trunks were. Some, she had to slide under, and others she had to break her stride to scramble overtop of. She encountered another gully, but it was much smaller, and she didn¡¯t need to pull any starlight into her body to help herself leap over it. She latched onto the opposite wall a few feet down from the top, and spent a few minutes trying to scramble back to the surface while maintaining the seer-core. As soon as she climbed out, she felt a shiver run down her spine. Nathariel was nearby, and he was watching. After a few more minutes of running, she reached a steep shelf of obsidian. Normally, she figured she would be expected to leap up it in a single burst, but she couldn¡¯t jump twenty feet up in the air. She bent down and coated her hands in the dusty, dry mud. Vayra began to climb. She pulled herself from foothold to foothold, careful not to slice her hands on the sharp wedges of obsidian. After a few minutes of grunting and laboured climbing, she arrived at the top of the cliff, only to find a metal training dummy staring at her. There was nowhere to place her feet and nowhere to place her hands. The dummy stood in the center of the path, surrounded on all sides by undergrowth and slippery vines. If she wanted a place to stand, she would need to topple the dummy over. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She wedged her knee into a crag to help keep her balance without any hands, then reached for the dummy¡¯s base. If she could just pull out the pins that kept the base in place, she could topple it, giving herself a foothold. Gripping one of the little metal pins, she pulled as hard as she could. But the pins were part of a larger mechanism. A string whirled, a lever clunked, then a ring around the dummy¡¯s base swung towards her. A bar whipped towards her. She didn¡¯t duck in time, and it swatted her off the cliff. She fell down to the path below and landed hard on her shoulder. A sharp crack raced through her body, followed by another wave of pain. The seer-core dissipated, and she flopped onto her back, gritting her teeth. ¡°Shit¡­¡± she breathed. ¡®I really, really don¡¯t want to get used to this,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Neither do I,¡± she hissed, then rolled onto her stomach. There was no way she hadn¡¯t broken her arm, but it could have been worse. ¡®That¡¯s not the mindset we should have! You should have just used the starlight we had to jump up. Now we have none.¡¯ Vayra sighed, then turned back to the cliff. She had to climb with one arm, now. To keep her bad arm from jostling around, she tucked it into the folds of her robe. Hopefully, that would hold it in place. ¡®Is there no way around?¡¯ ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be very good training if we went around it.¡± Shakily, Vayra placed the hand of her good arm on the rock, then took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°Do you solve every problem by beating your head against it?¡± came a voice from high up in the trees. Nathariel¡¯s voice. ¡°Either you or the problem will break, and eventually, it will be you.¡± Vayra glanced around, trying to see the God-heir. She couldn¡¯t see him, only pinpoint that his voice came from somewhere above. She began. ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°You have an enhanced body, still. Use it. Cycle Arcara to your arm, cleanse the damage, and let your specialties do their job. And use the Burnished Flame Loop, this time.¡± She let go of the cliff face, then dropped her arm and shut her eyes. Over the past two weeks, while she practiced cycling, she had managed to push the Flame Loop wider and further through her body, and a few times, she had managed to direct the limbs it went to. Like when she kept it near her core, it fed bits of mana to the surrounding flesh, filling them with a buzz. This time, she also had to feed the Arcara outwards. ¡°Your channels are built for this,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°They¡¯re strong, but they¡¯re porous. Your body will accept the purified energy.¡± She took a deep breath, clenched her gut, and guided the Arcara with her mind. She imagined a wind blowing the candle in the direction she wanted the Flame Loop to travel, and it obeyed her. As soon as the Arcara reached her arm, it warmed up. She pushed it outwards, away from her channels and into her flesh. It obeyed. Her bruised muscles were the first to repair themselves. In a matter of minutes, she felt the fibres knitting back together. In a half hour, her muscles felt fresh and new. After an hour, her bones didn¡¯t feel anywhere near as sore, and as far as she could tell, nothing was fractured or broken anymore. ¡®That was¡­incredibly fast,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra recalled the Goddess needing weeks to recover from injuries without medical attention. And she was a Goddess. ¡®Don¡¯t get too full of yourself. That¡¯s all you have going for you, right now.¡¯ ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Vayra muttered. She opened her eyes and shook out her hands. They functioned normally, as best as she could tell. She turned back to the cliff. ¡°Time to try this again.¡± She didn¡¯t hear Nathariel, nor could she sense him, so he must not have been terribly close. Or he wasn¡¯t directly interfering anymore. Before she began to climb, Phason¨¦ asked, ¡®And how do you plan to beat the dummy? Think, Vayra, think a little first.¡¯ Vayra crossed her arms, then turned around. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll need a source of starlight.¡± ¡®Meet me in the void.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes and pulled the white void over her vision with a whisper of Phason¨¦¡¯s name. After a few seconds of falling, she righted herself and turned around. Phason¨¦ sat on the floor, cradling her arm. ¡°If only you had some healing elixirs,¡± she said. ¡°Those were nice for helping us both. Advancing, too, that helped.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll take it easy. But¡­you¡¯ll live.¡± ¡°Not much compensation, is it?¡± Phason¨¦ offered a small smile, then looked down at her dress. ¡°But that¡¯s not why you¡¯re here. You need a source of starlight. I have one.¡± ¡°And¡­¡± With her good arm, Phason¨¦ reached down and tore a strip off the bottom of her dress. The fabric ripped with a sound like shattering glass and splintering wood, all at the same time. Even removed from the dress, the fabric still shone with the light of stars. Phason¨¦ handed it to her, and readily, she took it. It was long enough, and thin enough, that Vayra could wrap it around her neck like a scarf, or a small shawl. Vayra didn¡¯t understand the treasure, she knew that well enough, nor could she fathom how truly powerful it was. She did know that such a thing was an amazing, incredible gift. ¡°I, I¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I can still read your thoughts. Wielding this before you reached Master? Terrible idea, like I said. But now¡­well, you should be able to make it work.¡± Vayra wrapped the length of the dress around her neck like a scar. As she tied it, she couldn¡¯t stop her gaze from drifting downwards. The moment her eyes passed Phason¨¦¡¯s thighs, she averted her gaze and tried to stop herself from blushing. ¡°I can still read your thoughts, Vayra.¡± ¡°I¡­I¡¯m¡ª¡± Phason¨¦ leaned closer and whispered, ¡°It¡¯s alright. I know you swing both ways. Now, you do have a cliff to scale and a training dummy to defeat, correct?¡± Chapter 36: Learners [Volume 2] Vayra opened her eyes and ran back to the cliff. She placed her hands in the cracks and climbed back up to the top, doing her best to remember the handholds and footholds she¡¯d used before. Left, right, left¡­a little jump, and a reach for the next ledge. In a matter of minutes, she made it to the top. Again, she faced the training dummy. She wedged a foot into the stone and braced herself on the other side with a knee. Nathariel had just hit it really hard, right? She gathered up as much starlight as she could from the scarf, then reached up and drove a Starlight Palm into its center¡ªits gut¡ªas hard as she could. The starsteel wires lit up, filled with white starlight and a few specks of glowing Arcara, and it shot around the body of the dummy in the blink of an eye, before surging back out a vent in the center. Vayra was much too low for the counterattack to hit her. ¡°Alright, maybe I have to do more than hit it hard,¡± she muttered. ¡®You don¡¯t say¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. With a chuckle, Vayra observed the dummy. The mechanism that had resisted her when she¡¯d tried to pull out the pin at the base¡­she had to make it move the opposite direction. If she pushed the metal bar back from where it had struck her from, it would pull the pins out. Only problem was, she couldn¡¯t reach the bar. She reached up and swatted the ring above it. Maybe another mechanism would push the ring she needed into position. There was a small notch that she could push. If she tried to move the rusting ring with her own arms, it would take hours. But with the boost of a starlight palm, it moved in an instant. She blasted a pulse of starlight back into the notch, and as the energy vented out, the ring shifted. Gears clunked and a ratchet clanked, then the bar below swung out towards her with the force of a cannonball. She reacted as fast as could. She summoned the base of her seer-core from the stars in her scarf, then sucked it into her left arm to give it strength. Starlight Braced her fingers just in time. She caught the bar and pushed it back the other direction. The pins popped out of the bottom of the training dummy, and it fell backwards with a clunk. ¡°That took way too long,¡± she said. ¡®Yes, yes it did.¡¯ Vayra continued along the path as fast she could. She broke into a sprint, until the forest ended and she reached a plain of empty, barren earth, scoured by a volcanic flow. All that was left was umber, bubbly rock. Scattered across the plain, however, were Nathariel¡¯s training dummies. These were even rustier, and their bases were nearly sedimented into the ground. They must have been left out in the open for a while. ¡°Are you just going to stare at them?¡± Nathariel¡¯s voice boomed from behind her. She spun around trying to find where he stood, but she couldn¡¯t see him. ¡°Fight them,¡± he instructed, ¡°one by one, until you reach the path on the other side of the flow.¡± Vayra ran out into the field until she reached the first dummy, and for the rest of the day, she tried to defeat it. It didn¡¯t matter where she started hitting it. Eventually, it settled into a pattern of strikes and counter attacks. Each time she pushed a rod inwards or deflected a wild swipe from a metal bar, another came from the side, redirecting her motion against her. A few times, it even caught her with a vent of her own power. At the end of the day, covered in bruises and scrapes, she scrambled back to her feet, facing the first dummy and ready to try again. Her duty was to learn. She would never see the galaxy the way her wanderlust wanted her to if she couldn¡¯t put an end to Karmion. A pair of bootsteps clattered behind her, and she whirled around. Nathariel walked towards her, his arms crossed. ¡°Like I said, they¡¯re tuned for someone stronger.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not mad,¡± he said, then beckoned her back towards him, along the path the way she came. ¡°You will improve, and this is how. We will try again tomorrow. Until then, Glade and I have prepared dinner.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. For the next month, Glade¡¯s duty was to watch Vayra train. The Order of Balance would not let her over-extend herself, or injure her Arcara channels, or give herself a permanent physical wound that she could not recover from. He was the only Order member here, and so that was his duty. But it seemed nearly impossible to injure her Arcara channels. Just the act of cycling mana cleared them out, according to Nathariel. ¡°How?¡± Glade had asked the man. Nathariel had held out the Godscourge book and tapped the cover. With a grin, he said, ¡°Ancient Velaydian Secret? You¡¯re more than welcome to read it.¡± Though Glade might have wanted to, he didn¡¯t have time to read the book. When he wasn¡¯t watching Vayra, he was following Nathariel¡¯s instructions on cycling his mana, and the few dregs of Arcara he had. His low Spirit Potential made converting mana to Arcara more difficult. His body just wasn¡¯t as good at it as a God-heir. But that didn¡¯t stop Nathariel from teaching him a weak, low-stage cycling technique to push the little wisp of magical energy around his body, allowing him to envision his channels and his dim core. ¡°You¡¯ll need to give yourself an area of control at some point,¡± Nathariel told him, while handing him a small vial. It was an elixir, and from its turquoise colour, he supposed it was a concentration booster. It also provided him with an initial burst of almost-purified Arcara, which he readily accepted and integrated into his own spirit. With the improved concentration, he took to attacking the training dummies. They were the ones that had been kept inside, and their mechanisms were clean and oiled. He didn¡¯t need enhanced strength or magical techniques to make them work. Not yet. ¡°They¡¯ve been tuned for a God-heir with immense power,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°And it was a pain to tune them so high, so I¡¯m not taking them down a peg for you. The good news is, skill can account for much, especially when it¡¯s raw strength you¡¯re compensating for.¡± He pulled the sword out of Glade¡¯s sheath, then tossed it on the ground behind them. ¡°I know you¡¯re good with that. Let¡¯s see how you handle hand-to-hand.¡± In a matter of minutes, Glade had disabled all five dummies that had been arranged outside the house. Open palm strikes, fists, blocking with his forearms and knees, and rapid kicks. ¡°Very good.¡± Nathariel pushed the line of five dummies back into an upright position, then picked their pins back into place. ¡°Now, do it while cycling your Arcara.¡± That was a greater challenge. At the end of the month, Vayra toppled the last of the dummies on the plain. She stood on the opposite side of the treeline, looking back and panting. There had been ten, or maybe fifteen of them. She hadn¡¯t been counting. At the start, she had relied on memorizing their movements and patterns, but each one was unique, and she couldn¡¯t remember them all. The only way to succeed was by reacting instinctively and quickly, and when they provided an opening, striking their cores with intent. The chain of generating her seer-core to pulling the Arcara in, then imbuing and reinforcing her limbs with it¡­well, she made the process faster. The process of Bracing only became easier when she began to think of it much the same as shielding an object. Even easier when, with her spiritual senses, she tried viewing the paths that her Arcara took through the devices¡¯ starsteel wires, illuminating their internal workings and giving her a little foresight into where the next blow might land. Toggling it seemed slightly more natural with practice, but it quickly became overwhelming if she didn¡¯t push the spiritual sight away. Of course, using her scythe would have made it much easier, but if Nathariel had gotten these masterfully-crafted devices from his teacher, she didn¡¯t want to destroy them in an instant. Besides, cutting though them in a single scythe swipe wouldn¡¯t do her any good. Once she reached the end of the plain, though, the training course wasn¡¯t over. She sprinted through the woods on the other side, looping back towards Nathariel¡¯s hovel on a road she had never travelled before. The sun was setting, and its light filtered through the skeletal trees and ashy horizon. She could barely see the turns, but the fading light made the gullies¡¯ burbling magma glow even brighter. She strengthened her legs with starlight Arcara and boosted her jumps, pushing over each obstacle with determination. By the time she returned to the hovel, she found both Glade and Nathariel waiting for her. Glade looked happy, and almost proud. Nathariel¡¯s face was unreadable, but still, he nodded. ¡°Dinner is ready,¡± he told her. ¡°Inside.¡± Vayra glanced back at the sun. It was gone below the horizon, now, and she was a little late. She looked down at her arms, smeared with mud and dust from the day. ¡°Can I clean myself up, first?¡± ¡°Dismissed.¡± Vayra ran down to the river, then waded in up to her shoulders. She wanted to relax, to say that she could take it easy for a day or two after defeating the training course, but that wouldn¡¯t help anyone, and she knew it. There were still hurdles to climb. She still couldn¡¯t reliably use the Mediator Form, which would be her strongest weapon when, inevitably, she had to punch up against more powerful opponents. Nature had given her the edge she needed, but she couldn¡¯t find a way to tap into it. ¡®Myrrir will be a Commodore by now,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®And if you face him again, his attention won¡¯t be split between you and Hammontor.¡¯ Vayra leaned back in the water and splashed a little bit up into her face. As she scrubbed the dust and dirt from her cheeks, she funnelled Arcara around her body, aiming it where it was needed the most to help her bruised flesh heal. It was hard to tell from the outside; phoenixes had clear blood, and internal bleeding didn¡¯t show as blatantly from the outside. But she could feel the soreness. With a sigh, she dropped her head, then said, ¡°We¡¯ll learn. We¡¯ll figure it out. There¡¯s still time.¡± Chapter 37: Not Prey [Volume 2] On the hunt for another ship to capture, Pels guided the Harmony through a wall of ashy fog on Muspellar¡¯s northern coast. He had captured three frigates, a sloop, and a man-of-war, all in the past two months. Part of him itched, knowing that if he had chosen, he could have built his own pirate fleet with all the ships he had stolen. But, as per the arrangement, he had given them all to the resistance. Their small fleet hid in the cove, given a make-over by Perron¡¯s people. She didn¡¯t have enough crew for them yet, but she did have plenty of people willing to learn. Any day, Pels expected to be dragged away from his privateering duties to teach, but it hadn¡¯t happened yet. They lingered on the edge of the gray-black fog, hidden from all but the most discerning gazes, but with a decent view of the sea. ¡°Captain!¡± Lieutenant McHyll shouted from the main deck, pointing out northwards, and slightly to their stern. ¡°Fighting tops spotted something!¡± Pels ran to the stern railing of the quarterdeck and brandished his spyglass. He flicked it open and pointed it in the vague direction that McHyll had pointed. He hunted, sweeping his spyglass back and forth across the horizon. He passed a dark shape with bat-wing-shaped sails, and for a second, kept moving, until he inched the spyglass back towards it. The ship was a black junk with dark red railings, and an enormous red lantern hanging off its stern. His heart immediately began to beat faster. He snapped his spyglass shut and yelled, ¡°All hands! Beat to quarters!¡± He turned to the coxswain. ¡°Easy to larboard. Get the wind quarter astern.¡± ¡°Captain?¡± McHyll called back. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? We could tack back and pursue¡ª¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t prey,¡± Pels said. ¡°Our best hope is to outrun them.¡± ¡°Into the fog, then?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have a good map of these shores. Unless you want to impale us on an obsidian spire, our best bet is to go fast and keep to the edge of the bank.¡± Myrrir had finally caught up. A short ride back to the coast, and then a few days of hunting aboard the Hyrovao. He stood on his ship¡¯s quarterdeck, holding up a spyglass towards his target. The Harmony sloshed through the water ahead, its sails full of wind and its cannons bared like a wolf¡¯s teeth. But it was running. Myrrir pulled off his glove and tapped his fingers on the railing. The starsteel veins rattled, and his wooden fingertips clacked against the railing. His prize lurched onwards, steadily broadening the distance between the two ships. The Harmony was faster, and though the wind was favourable to a square-rigger, Myrrir was a Commodore now. Flag Officers, when advancing from Lieutenant to Captain, gained much stronger control over their domain. Captains¡­were just breaching the surface. A Commodore? He held out his hand, summoning his gunpowder from his hip flask, and opened his palm outwards. His Commodore-stage Arcara swirled up into his arms, and he shut his eyes to concentrate better. He had impeccable control of the formations of gunpowder, better than ever before. His body leaked out waves of Arcara, which in turn latched on to the gunpowder and spun it like a whirling nebula. It grasped the wind and thrust it outwards, sending it surginging towards the sails in a concentrated stream. ¡°Tye,¡± Myrrir whispered. ¡°Tye, steer the ship. Bring us astern of them.¡± ¡°Yes, captain.¡± ¡°Be careful not to harm them,¡± said Myrrir, barely able to split his concentration enough to speak with his first officer. ¡°I can¡¯t threaten the Mediator if her crew is dead.¡± The extra wind that Myrrir conjured blasted into the sails. He heard them fluttering and luffing, until Tye began to shout muffled orders at the sailors, who adjusted the sails. The fluttering stopped, replaced only by the occasional rumple of fabric and groaning of wood. But if the Hyovao could handle the winds of the Stream, she could handle this. He heard musketfire before long, and he opened his eyes just a crack. They were almost precisely astern. He shut them again and continued to funnel wind into the sails. To stop their foe from running, Tye ordered a hard turn, then a blast from the starboard battery. The shots sailed through the air, but Myrrir didn¡¯t hear a collision or an impact. They had missed, or¡ªmore likely¡ªthe Harmony had taken evasive action. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Tightening his fists, Myrrir gave one last push of wind into the sails, then opened his eyes. The Harmony turned into the wind, pulling into an emergency stop. On a normal ship, one designed for just the atmosphere, the masts wouldn¡¯t have been able to handle such a maneuver. But a Streamrunner was built to handle stronger winds, and its stays were tougher. The Harmony halted, its sails fluttering awkwardly and its masks creaking. As soon as its main battery faced the Hyovao, it fired. Myrrir was already bounding to the prow, and he arrived just in time. He pushed a shield into the bow¡¯s wood. Gunpowder wasn¡¯t known for its shielding properties, and Myrrir¡¯s Gray Veil technique was one of the hardest for those who walked the Path of the Darkflag to learn. He concentrated on the little dark beads, urging them to wrap around the wood and shield it. It wasn¡¯t the same as a technique like the Mediator¡¯s defenses; hers filled the wood, turning it briefly as hard as stone. Myrrir¡¯s protected the outside. When the cannonballs struck, he clenched his fist. The first few ripped through the prow, scattering wood chips and splinters into the air. The rest, he held back. They tumbled harmlessly into the water. One struck the shield, and the metal against gunpowder sparked. Myrrir pushed his arm forwards, guiding the following explosion outwards as best as he could. And that was all of his gunpowder. He dropped flat to the deck; a troop of Redmarines ran to the Harmony¡¯s railing and fired a volley at him. The shots spattered harmlessly against the hull. Myrrir scrambled back down his ship¡¯s main deck, then sprinted up to the quarterdeck. ¡°Hard to starboard,¡± he ordered. ¡°It¡¯s a broadside.¡± The coxswains pushed on the tiller, and Tye ordered the sailors to let the sails loose. They swung into the wing, pushing the junk onwards. ¡°Sir,¡± said one of the coxswains. ¡°I thought we weren¡¯t trying to kill them!¡± Myrrir scowled. He ran to the front railing, then, flooding his throat and voice box with Arcara, shouted, ¡°Gunners, aim at their deck! Once volley; take out the marines!¡± If it had been an even fight, he knew he would have been outmatched. Pels was a better captain; he¡¯d seen it before. But Myrrir didn¡¯t intend to let it be fair. As soon as the gunners let off their volley, shattering the railing and tearing through the marines, Myrrir forced Arcara down into his legs, fuelling his enhanced body. His body was as standard as they came, and functioned as it should. It served his purposes well enough. He jumped up onto the railing, but he would need an extra burst of strength to leap across the gap between the ships. Drawing the smallest beads of gunpowder he could out of a nearby soldier¡¯s flask, he imbued his Arcara with them and sucked it into his body as well. It stained his veins black. Incomprehensible tattoos writhed beneath his skin. He forced it to flow down to his legs, then sprung off the railing. He landed on the main deck of the Harmony. The gunners scrambled to operate the deck guns, and any sailor without a duty was holding a musket or a pistol. About half of the marines were still standing, and they converged on him. He wasn¡¯t here for them. Bracing his arm with gunpowder, he swatted aside one. It paved a path for him to run to the quarterdeck. An officer tried to stop him on the way up the stairs. Myrrir drew his sword, a heavy saber fashioned from jade, and hacked the officer¡¯s musket in half with it¡ªto wield it with such speed, he had to Brace both of his arms. Then, he pushed the man down the stairs and leapt over his body. As soon as Myrrir took the last step up, the ship¡¯s captain pointed his pistol at Myrrir and fired. The shot fired, and it caught Myrrir in his shoulder, sending him sprawling back a few feet. The shot penetrated through his robe and coat, and it bit an inch into his skin, but he continued on. The captain, Pels, flipped his pistol over in his hand and swung it at Myrrir. Myrrir caught the pistol¡¯s handle, unwilling to be caught by surprise again. He ripped the weapon out of Pels¡¯s hand, then slipped behind him and held his sword against his throat. ¡°Nobody move!¡± Myrrir shouted, again strengthening his voice box. His words boomed down the ship¡¯s deck. ¡°Drop your weapons, and you will all live! I have your captain!¡± ¡°Capturing us, eh?¡± Pels raised his eyebrows. ¡°Wasn¡¯t the play I thought you¡¯d go with. Mediator isn¡¯t here.¡± ¡°I am aware, Captain,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°I¡¯ve heard many things about you¡ªever since you bested us on Naebel.¡± The rest of the Harmony¡¯s crew dropped their weapons, and the gunners snuffed their linstocks and stepped away from the cannons. ¡°A wise choice,¡± Myrrir hissed. Wren couldn¡¯t flutter over the mountains in a single flight, but she could leap from peak to peak, slowly traversing the range as fast as she could without straining her muscles or body too much. Every so often, a volcanic eruption blocked her way, or slowed her progress, or forced her to backtrack. She stayed as close to the river as she could, but once it dipped underground, there was little she could do. Eventually, she arrived on the other side of the mountain range, and it only took her a few more days to find the river again¡ªshe had drifted further west than she had intended. She glided as far along the river as she could, then took to the banks and walked the rest of the way. Finding Nathariel wasn¡¯t the hard part. He would know how to hide his spirit from someone like her, but he had the Mediator, and she would be easy to find so long as Wren got close enough. As soon as Wren felt a tingle building in the back of her mind, she stopped and began to test which way she had to travel for it to get stronger. Her senses weren¡¯t nearly as tuned as someone like Myrrir¡¯s would be, but the Mediator¡¯s strength had grown, and she was exponentially easier to find. That, and Wren had been to Nathariel¡¯s hovel many times before. She paused at the edge of Nathariel¡¯s pasture, tempted to rip off a chunk of the fence and skewer his horses with it. But that wouldn¡¯t be nearly good enough vengeance. She glanced around. Nathariel was inside, and he wasn¡¯t expecting visitors. If Wren kept her core still and tightly veiled, no one would notice her. Nathariel had taken a new student. If Wren wasn¡¯t able to succeed under him, then neither could Vayra. She¡¯d hurt Nathariel and Myrrir, and claim her prize. The ploy kept getting better¡­ Wren paused at the edge of the woods, staring out towards the edge of the river. No one would notice her, except for the Mediator, who was currently cleaning herself in the water. Wren stepped out of the shadows. Chapter 38: Mothfolk Meeting Vayra was just about to walk back to the cabin when she heard a soft voice. ¡°Good evening,¡± the voice said, whispering through the trees. She recognized it, but she couldn¡¯t say from where. It was soft and feminine, with the faint rattle of something insectile buried deep within it. She climbed out onto the shore of the river, her clothes dripping. They¡¯d dry off soon enough. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Vayra asked, holding her hands up. Even though a cloud of ash wafted over the sky, blotting out the stars, Vayra drew starlight from the scarf. She formed her seer-core. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry,¡± came the voice again. ¡°I¡¯m not here to hurt you. Yet.¡± ¡°Not much incentive to let my guard down, is there?¡± A shadowy form stepped out from the cover of the trees at the edge of the clearing. At first, Vayra thought the woman was wearing a fur cloak, but the glowing orange light from the windows of Nathariel¡¯s hovel illuminated her soon enough. Wren. The mothfolk bounty hunter. Vayra couldn¡¯t sense her; she was keeping her core tightly veiled. ¡°Ah, you remember me, now,¡± Wren said. She jumped up and, with a flutter of her wings, she perched on the eave of Nathariel¡¯s hovel. ¡°Myrrir has probably captured your friends by now.¡± Vayra blew a puff of air out her nose. ¡°Myrrir?¡± ¡°You remember him, don¡¯t you?¡± asked Wren. ¡°Glass-haired fellow, jade sword, annoying and stuffy?¡± ¡°I remember him.¡± Vayra clenched her fists, then wrung out the long tails of her robe. She figured Myrrir would be here, but she had guessed he would come after her right away. Not to go after¡­her friends? She tilted her head. ¡°Friends?¡± ¡°Oh, I know you have some,¡± Wren teased. ¡°Captain Pels, the Harmony, your brother¡­everyone else in the crew. He¡¯s probably killed a couple, wounded a couple, and, oh, who knows what other horrors he has in store for them.¡± A swell of fear rose in Vayra¡¯s throat. ¡®She¡¯s taunting you,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. Vayra didn¡¯t need to be a genius to see that. But knowing didn¡¯t change anything; it still made her heart pound. ¡®You promised Bremi. You promised him.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes, remembering what she had told Bremi on the last day of their first voyage¡ªI¡¯ll look after the whole galaxy. Or something along those lines. ¡°You know I¡¯m right,¡± Wren said. ¡°You knew Myrrir would be after you, and it was dragging on you that he hadn¡¯t come yet.¡± Wren said it like a fact, like an absolute statement. Yet Vayra, until now, hadn¡¯t concerned herself about that. She figured that Myrrir didn¡¯t know she was still alive, or working on ways to track her, or¡­ But this made perfect sense. She shut her eyes, trying to push away the thoughts. ¡®Vayra, listen to me,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pleaded. ¡®She¡¯s getting in your head and trying to lay a trap. Learning to use your magic is more important.¡¯ ¡°I know¡­¡± Vayra hissed under her breath, taking a step towards the hovel, and Wren. She raised her voice a little, then said, ¡°Prove it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need proof,¡± Wren scoffed. ¡°You already know it. It makes sense for him to do it, and he¡¯s skilled enough to do it. Head to the flow-mining facility on the other side of the mountains, and you¡¯ll find them there. You can rescue them there.¡± She stood up with a smug grin. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Why? Why tell me?¡± ¡°Meh, I find Myrrir annoying, and it¡¯d be fun to foil his plot.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Wren flicked her hand, then pulled a book out of a pouch hanging from her belt. ¡°I¡¯m Wren, just Wren, and I do what I want. You¡¯ll probably suffer for it, but I know that won¡¯t matter to you, ¡®cause no matter how bad I make this sound, I know you¡¯ll still go.¡± Vayra opened her mouth, ready to protest, when she heard a clatter inside the hovel. A second later, the door swung open, and Nathariel rushed outside. Immediately, he blasted a bar of fire at Wren. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The mothfolk bounty hunter had already taken off. With a flutter of her wings, she leapt into the sky. She dodged the first bar of flame, and by the time the second neared her, she was high enough that it dissipated before it reached her. Nathariel stomped a foot down and widened his stance, and the earth shook. He shut his eyes and held out a hand. Vayra¡¯s eyes widened, and she watched with horror. The tips of Wren¡¯s wings began to glow with a network of orangey-red channels. Nathariel was about to set her Arcara alight. Then the light dissipated, and Nathariel pulled his hand back. He scowled, then grunted, ¡°Too far.¡± Vayra bit her lip, then said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I should have tried to¡ª¡± ¡°Who was she?¡± ¡°She was a bounty hunter, who¡ª¡± Nathariel grabbed Vayra¡¯s shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. ¡°What did she tell you?¡± By now, Glade also stood in the door, watching her. She figured that Nathariel would probably sense a lie, even if she tried. He could sense lies, right? Or he¡¯d sense her heartbeat pick up¡­ ¡®He might notice a change in your breathing or a shift in your Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. But there was no reason not to tell Nathariel what had happened. She said, ¡°Can we go inside? I¡¯ll tell you everything, but¡­I wouldn¡¯t mind having dinner, too.¡± ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Turning back towards the door, Nathariel sighed and nodded. ¡°I was wondering what was taking you so long.¡± They all stepped back inside, where three bowls of soup had been set out on the counter. Nathariel and Glade had already begun to eat, but Vayra¡¯s bowl was untouched. She picked it up, along with a spoon, and walked back to her hammock. As soon as she sat down, she explained everything she knew about Wren, from the very start¡ªfrom Wren¡¯s first attempt to capture her, all the way to¡­now. The only thing she left out was the implication that Myrrir was torturing them; the thought was too much for her to voice aloud. Glade¡¯s face twisted with fear for a moment, but he composed himself. ¡°There is a high chance that she is lying.¡± ¡°And if she is?¡± Vayra stirred her bowl of soup, letting off the last few wisps of steam. ¡°So we head back through the Chambers. We go to this mining facility Wren talked about, and we check it out. If there¡¯s a problem, then she was telling the truth, and if there isn¡¯t, then we¡¯ll know that as well.¡± ¡°And what if she is telling the truth, hm?¡± Nathariel asked between mouthfuls of soup. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m more worried about.¡± ¡°Then¡­¡± Vayra exhaled. She had promised Bremi that she¡¯d look after everyone, but that included him, Pels, and the crew of the Champion, too. She shouldn¡¯t just ignore them. ¡°Then we¡¯ll help. It¡¯s my duty.¡± ¡°No,¡± said Glade abruptly. ¡°You cannot. Myrrir is stronger than you¡ª¡± ¡°I beat him before,¡± Vayra asserted. ¡°He was distracted. Hammontor might have been trying to take you, but he was also trying to hurt Myrrir, and vice versa. And you managed to use the Mediator Form.¡± Glade folded his fingers together so his knuckles stuck up, then rubbed his forehead with them. ¡°Please, Vayra, do not consider this.¡± ¡°And from what I understand, Myrrir was at the peak of the Captain stage,¡± Nathariel added. ¡°It¡¯s likely he¡¯s advanced by now.¡± ¡°But why shouldn¡¯t I check it out?¡± She felt her grip on the bowl tightening, and her lips quivered. It was easy to say that she would look after everyone, but that didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t still care about her friends. Her friends¡­her brother, the only person she was raised with. Captain Pels, the man who¡¯d come back for her and brought her from Mascant to Naebel. The Harmony, Kertogg and Tressdott, and even little Orlas and her kittens¡­ ¡°You know well enough why,¡± Glade snapped. ¡°The galaxy needs you at your full strength. Myrrir will capture you, you will be gone, and everything will keep¡­crumbling!¡± He set his bowl of soup down and marched over to her. ¡°My father was a Redmarine. He lost his leg fighting bluecoats. That, that was why no one could take care of me, and why the Order took me in.¡± Vayra¡¯s mouth slipped open. ¡°Glade, I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll just look, and I won¡¯t fight Myrrir, and¡ª¡± ¡°And walk into a trap?¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°You know it¡¯s a trap. I agree with the boy. You are more important.¡± ¡®Vayra, I want to agree with you,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I can hear your thoughts, so believe me when I say that I understand. But I don¡¯t think rushing headlong at them is a good idea. I really think you should wait. Get more powerful. Then we can face them.¡¯ Vayra pointed her thumb at herself. ¡°Our job¡ªmy job¡ªis to punch up. To hit above my weight and do more. And I can do that.¡± ¡°Not yet, and not without the Mediator Form.¡± Nathariel took another spoonful from his soup, then pointed at her bowl. ¡°Eat, dammit. It¡¯s why you two came back inside in the first place.¡± She picked her bowl back up, then took a spoonful. ¡°When I say you¡¯re not ready, I mean it,¡± Nathariel continued. ¡°Please, Vayra,¡± Glade told her. ¡°You are the galaxy¡¯s hope. We need you. We need you at your full power, not rotting in Karmion¡¯s dungeons.¡± When she glanced at him, she found his gaze pleading and hopeful. She tossed the options around in her mind, then finally, after a glance at Glade and a glance at Nathariel, she said, ¡°Alright. Alright. I¡¯ll¡­stay.¡± She knew her voice didn¡¯t sound convincing. That evening, she finished eating her soup, digesting its subtle spiritual energy, then, around the same time as Karmion and Glade, she settled in for a rest. Sleep never came. She spent the entire night wide-awake, staring at the ceiling long after Phason¨¦ had fallen silent and Glade began to snore softly. The next day, Nathariel had her run through the training course again, but she stalled on the lava flats. The third dummy occupied her all day, and even when she tried using her spiritual sight, she couldn¡¯t manage to get through its patterns to land a hit. The next two days passed the same way. She only ended up sleeping on the third day from sheer exhaustion. Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, she faced Nathariel and said, ¡°I¡¯ve tried. I tried. I can¡¯t do it.¡± Nathariel looked like he was about to argue, and the next second, he looked like he wanted to scold her. He shut his mouth for a few moments, then finally, he said, ¡°Come with me. I have something to show you.¡± Chapter 39: Branch [Volume 2] They stood at a branch in the Rallemflow. It split in two directions, each snaking across the landscape to the south. Vayra figured if she followed either one, they¡¯d both evaporate eventually. Still, she half-expected Nathariel to leave her with some cryptic and trite wisdom about a branching river and choices. Or something like that. He said nothing. Ruins of a bridge spanned the branch in the river, leading from the shore they stood on now to the center of the river delta. It was made of dark brown stone, and its sharp, utilitarian angles reminded her of the Night Vale Chambers. Most of the bridge had crumbled, and all that remained was a sharp arch on either side. Nathariel walked as far as he could, then sprung across the gap. Vayra followed, Bracing her legs with starlight and leaping over the surging, steaming river. On the other side, a path led up the shore, unlike any she¡¯d seen before on this planet. Ancient interlocking paving stones wound up the shore, leading up to a small entrance in the slope. Its walls were angled and sharp, and had it not been for the lack of runes or bricks blocking the doorway, she would have said that it was another entrance to the Chambers. Nathariel stopped just outside the entrance and leaned against it with his shoulder. ¡°What is it?¡± Vayra asked, then she scrunched her eyebrows. ¡°And¡­why?¡± Nathariel let out a soft snort. ¡°One question at a time. This was a special facility built by the Dragon Gods for storing vast amounts of Arcara-soaked flame, disconnected from the chambers for fear that it would leak. Which, of course, it did.¡± He ran a hand down the door frame, then tapped it with his nails. It sparked a little. ¡°Look with your spiritual vision.¡± Vayra tightened the muscles around her eyes, and in an instant, everything flashed white. A blinding light seeped out from the doorway. Her eyes began to sting and her Arcara channels burned. She blinked, then cycled Arcara up to her head, flushing the channels clean and soothing the sting. When she looked up, she held one hand up to the doorway to block most of the light, then spread her fingers apart a crack, so that only a little bit of spiritual radiation could seep through. For good measure, she also squinted. The walls inside the Chambers swirled with patterns, like moving, incomprehensible paintings. She didn¡¯t know what she was watching, aside from glowing white shapes slithering along the walls. ¡°The flame burned away long ago,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°What you¡¯re seeing is the Arcara that seeped into the stone. It gives this place incredible power.¡± He folded his hands in front of him. ¡°And a little bit of prescience.¡± ¡°Prescience?¡± ¡°Visions. Step in there, and the high-concentration Arcara will make you see things.¡± Vayra blinked and loosened up her face, letting her spiritual vision fade away. Again, she stared into a pitch-black hole. ¡°What¡­sort of things?¡± ¡°Stream water binds the galaxy together,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°The Stream itself is a path through the heavens, but it¡¯s also the essence of life itself. The Arcara is that, but purified. And the Arcara that was here was purified by Dragon Gods. It was some of the most powerful Arcara you could find, and in massive quantities.¡± He took a step away from the entrance. ¡°The Stream embodies the laws of the universe itself. It knows you, it knows what you might do, and it can show you glimpses of your future.¡± ¡°Are you¡­trying to teach me a lesson?¡± Nathariel¡¯s face saddened, and he shook his head. ¡°No, Vayra. I¡¯m trying to give help. I want you to look into the visions, to look into your future, so you can see whether your friends are truly in danger. So you can judge what to do with yourself.¡± ¡°It will show me what will happen if I try to rescue them?¡± ¡°It might.¡± He sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve only stepped into the visions once before. It shows many things, which are all likely¡ªbut not set¡ªoutcomes.¡± He began to flick his fingers one-by-one. ¡°I hope, hope, that what you see will discourage you. Otherwise, I¡¯m out of options.¡± ¡°You could trap me here¡­¡± ¡°And what good would that do? You¡¯d hate me and resent me, like all my other disciples came to. And then you would learn nothing more from me.¡± Pausing, Nathariel leaned around the corner. He reached in with one hand, and the air seemed to ripple when he passed his palm through it. ¡°They¡¯ve all made mistakes, and I always tried to stop them. I even tried to burn a Path manual to stop a young woman from heading down a dark road. It never helped.¡± Vayra¡¯s stomach began to churn, and her fingers trembled. But she wanted to know what would happen to Pels and Bremi and everyone else on the Champion. Worse, she knew she should never have left them alone. This was her fault, and she had to make it right¡­ The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡®You¡¯re going to drive yourself insane if you keep thinking like that, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®Let Nathariel try to help you, and let his help speak for itself.¡¯ Nodding, Vayra conjured her seer-core and took a few steps forward. As soon as she passed through the doorway into the storage room, her mind shifted. Everything felt hazy, and a spiritual film clung to her skin. Goosebumps ran down her arms. She held out her seer-core as far as she could. The ceiling was high, like this place was a warehouse, but it was completely empty¡ªsave for a few cobwebs in the corners. She didn¡¯t want to know what kind of spiders had made those, nor what they would look like now, having been exposed to such concentrated, high-power Arcara. A high pitched warble ran down the hall, like some sort of animal call. Instinctively, she looked back towards the doorway, but she could barely see the opened. It was small. Had she walked that deep into the¡­ A flash of flame rolled in front of her eyes. It looked like real flame, not Nathariel¡¯s almost-flame. In it there were sparks and thick smoke, and it reeked of carnage and a burning city. When the wall of flame passed, she stared back down the hall. The image flickered. A second later, she couldn¡¯t see the hall, but a burning city. It looked like Leansfield, only bigger, larger, and the blaze seemed more deadly. The image blurred, and instead of watching from a distance, she stood in the streets. Bluecoats ripped people from their homes and shot them¡ªeveryone. Children, elderly, men, women¡­ Vayra choked and tried to look away. An eave fell from above. It was made of woven branches and covered in pinecone scales. Tavelle. Her home. She tried to interfere. Reaching to pull a bluecoat away from a pleading civilian, she sprinted down the street, but before she could reach him, the vision shifted. Now she stood in the plaza in front of the Order of Balance temple, watching helplessly as an army of bluecoats marched up the front steps in orderly lines. She spun around, and again, the vision changed. She stood in the carriage loop of King Tallerion¡¯s palace¡ªhalfway across the city from the temple. In the place of carriages and guards, brutish gallows had been constructed from black wood. The king¡¯s body hung from a lonely noose like a limp rag. Behind, flames snarled in the windows of the palace, licking upwards as if they could burn even the sky. My friends, Vayra thought. I want to see my friends. I need to know what happens to them. The vision changed, but no longer did she see sights of destruction, but rather, of a vast plaza. It was nighttime, and she heard cheering crowds. She blinked, trying to control the vision. If she could control Arcara, she could fight this. She could make it show her what she needed. The vision was unyielding. All she saw were the tight walls of a carriage. It had stopped. Beyond the windows, there was an enormous plaza filled with extravagantly-dressed civilians and bluecoats. At the very end of the plaza¡­a circular structure rose above the crowd, surrounded by pillars and doused in blue banners. The light of a thousand torches illuminated its windows and domed roof. She blinked a few times, until she was certain at what she was looking at: the Galactic Assembly. She¡¯d seen it once on Mascant, from a distance. The door of the carriage opened. She didn¡¯t want to step out, but her body did anyway. She wasn¡¯t in control anymore. Her heart pounded and her eyes widened, and she looked around, trying to find a way out. ¡®Stay calm, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Stay¡­¡¯ The Goddess¡¯ voice faded away. As soon as Vayra set her feet down on the paving stones of the plaza, a renewed cheer from the crowd drowned it out. Vayra began to hobble forwards, out of her own control. She looked down. She wore a blue dress, but beneath the skirt¡­she had a peg-leg¡ªa pole of splintering wood that barely let her walk. She gasped, and willed herself to bend down to claw at it. Instead, she only raised an arm to the sky in celebration. Instead of a hand, she had a brass hook. She began to breathe faster and faster, until her lungs couldn¡¯t bear it any longer. She kept walking. There was a narrow valley through the crowd, kept open by ranks of bluecoats. The valley led straight to the Galactic Assembly. On all sides, a procession of sycophantic Gods applauded her. A man on a horse trotted up beside her. He wore a neat military uniform and a tricorn hat, with a plume made only out of water. She recognized his face from paintings, though in person, it was more gaunt and paler. Karmion. He grinned. ¡®Vayra!¡¯ Phason¨¦ screamed. Vayra blinked and held her eyes shut for a second. When she opened them, she found herself laying face-down on the floor of the store-room, panting and doused in sweat. She rolled over onto her back and whispered, ¡°Show me my friends¡­¡± No more visions came. Once she caught her breath, she shakily rose to her feet and crept out of the store room. Once she returned to the sunlight, the misty film melted off her arms, and she shook out her hands. Nathariel sat on the ground outside, arms crossed. ¡°So?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± she grumbled. ¡°Nothing about the Harmony¡¯s crew.¡± For a few agonizing moments, she stayed silent. Nathariel stood up and turned around, then motioned for her to follow. ¡°Then we will return to the hovel. Your training must continue.¡± She followed him. All the way back, her mind ran in circles, as if someone had reached inside and turned it upside-down. ¡®Remember, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It only showed what could happen if¡ª¡¯ ¡°No,¡± Vayra breathed. Maybe it was if Vayra didn¡¯t help. Maybe it was. Maybe it was if she was caught. She couldn¡¯t say for certain¡ªthere was no condition telling her how she failed, only that she might. Some useless vision that was. ¡®If you go. It¡¯s if you go, and you know it.¡¯ Phason¨¦ couldn¡¯t say that for certain. ¡®I know you¡¯re walking into a trap.¡¯ ¡°And if I know that I am, it¡¯s not much of a trap,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll get in, and I¡¯ll get out, and I¡¯ll be quick. I¡¯ll free them, then we can come right back to train.¡± ¡®Do you truly think you can out-plan Myrrir?¡¯ ¡°I have to try.¡± Chapter 40: Responsibilities [Volume 2] On the journey back to the hovel, Nathariel took a detour away from the trail. It would be a few hours of walking, and supposedly, the detour wouldn¡¯t last long. Nathariel said they needed to get some more food from the nearest city, though Vayra suspected he had some sort of other motive. Perhaps he planned one last effort to make her want to stay. Trick her, likely. ¡®Has he ever tried to trick you before?¡¯ Alright, maybe trick wasn¡¯t¡­the best word. ¡®We¡¯re just getting supplies.¡¯ They snaked away from the main river, following a smaller trickle that carried mostly fresh water. It gurgled through the woods, winding through a maze of tall, lanky trees. The ground grew slightly softer, and when Vayra looked down, she thought it might have been proper, normal dirt, like she¡¯d have found on Tavelle. But it was still too dark. The little stream flowed downhill, along a slope of rocky rapids. Along its edges, a few flowers grew, their petals a shade of bright yellow. Something like that could grow here? It didn¡¯t seem¡­tough enough. She stepped gingerly around them. After a few more minutes, the little river turned into a canal. Instead of a rocky path, a valley of charred bricks guided it in a straight line. A small boardwalk ran along the top of the path, which she and Nathariel followed. They passed the outskirts of a city soon enough. ¡°This is Mallerfall,¡± Nathariel said, pointing to a couple of the smallest structures. They were built much like the houses she¡¯d seen a couple months ago, in Muspellar¡¯s port villages, except their roofs were slightly steeper and their windows were a deeper shade of amber. Vayra didn¡¯t see any large fires, only candles and lanterns. ¡°What do we need?¡± she asked. ¡°Some feed for the horses, some salt, and whatever jarred goods we can get,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not picky.¡± As they walked along the path, the civilians she could see all dipped inside their homes. A few had slightly less sooty clothing¡ªor clothes that they took pride in cleaning more often (she even saw a few shades of vibrant green and yellow). But most of them walked listlessly, their heads down and their feet dragging. ¡°It¡¯s a lumber hub,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Provides most of the wood for any little settlement on this side of the mountains. Elderworlds have been working them twice as hard since they took over, and there¡¯s no sign of it stopping.¡± So he was trying to prove a point. Vayra hung her head. On every corner, bluecoats waited, muskets resting on their shoulders. Their heads turned as Nathariel walked past, and Vayra wished she had a way to hide. They might recognize¡ª ¡°No one will know who you are,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Inland? It takes months for news to travel. They might never even hear about a bounty placed on you.¡± ¡°Then why are the people going inside?¡± ¡°That would be my doing¡­¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Strangers aren¡¯t common here, especially not ones who look like us.¡± He glanced at a pack of bluecoats, who eyed him curiously. ¡°I tried to liberate this village a few times, a couple decades ago. There are tales among the bluecoats of powerful strangers who entered the city and obliterated the garrisons. Even if these ones weren¡¯t around to remember it.¡± ¡°There are bluecoats here still,¡± she whispered. ¡°And they wouldn¡¯t dare attack us without backup.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± Vayra clenched her fists and looked at the pair of Elderworld soldiers clinging to the nearest street corner. ¡°So do something about them?¡± ¡°I tried,¡± Nathariel snapped. ¡°Twice. Three times, four. I lost count. Every time, they returned weeks after I left, and punished the townsfolk. It was a slaughter. Now, everyone here has learned to hate the God-heir who wields fire and makes their existence even more miserable.¡± ¡°No one came after you?¡± ¡°They sent God-heirs. They sent plenty. I had to deal with young masters of all the major families. When I stopped showing my head, they stopped their inquisition.¡± Vayra glanced around. Deeper in the city, the buildings were more tightly-packed, but they weren¡¯t any taller. She could still see through their first story windows and shopfronts. Silhouettes clustered in front of the orange panes, backlit by candlelight. They stared out nervously, their gazes flitting between Nathariel and Vayra and the bluecoats. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°It¡¯s like this every time I visit,¡± he said. ¡°Bluecoats can guess who I am, and so do the townsfolk. Maybe one day, I¡¯ll go on an unhinged rampage and tear apart the bluecoats, and they¡¯ll suffer for it. Maybe one day, I¡¯ll push myself too far, and turn into a Ko-Ganall that eradicates the entire star system. Or maybe I¡¯ll leave them alone, and things will stay the same way they¡¯ve been for decades.¡± ¡°There has to be something you can do,¡± Vayra replied. ¡®Were you listening to what he said?¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®You¡¯re gonna make the bluecoats nervous, talking aloud like this. What if one of them tries to get lucky and take you out? They might not know you¡¯re the Mediator, but they know you¡¯re strong.¡¯ ¡°I tried all I could for them,¡± Nathariel lamented. ¡°But there¡¯s a rotten core to this galaxy, and unless you take it out, nothing here will change.¡± ¡°...Karmion?¡± They turned down a street corner. Nathariel led her away from the canal, back towards the edge of the city. More people scurried inside ahead of Nathariel¡ªsome even abandoned a wagon full of black logs. ¡°Yes, Karmion,¡± Nathariel replied finally. ¡°Could you fight him?¡± ¡°Absolutely not. I might scratch his cheek, and that¡¯s about it.¡± Nathariel tilted his head towards a storefront, then turned towards it. A sign hung above the door, and it was the only part of the structure where the soot had been wiped off of. The text, however, was in Elderworld script, and Vayra couldn¡¯t read it. ¡°You are nature¡¯s cure to the rot,¡± Nathariel said, pushing on the wooden door at the center of the storefront. ¡°Whether you like it or not, that means you have responsibilities.¡± As soon as the door swung all the way open, a bell jangled, alerting the owners that someone had entered. Nathariel stepped into the store first, and Vayra followed close behind. She glanced around. There wasn¡¯t anyone inside except for them. A single lantern hung from the roof, swaying in a draft and casting shimmering light around the inside of the building. When the light shifted to one side of the room, it illuminated shelves lined with glass jars and paper-wrapped boxes, and when it shone to the other side, it illuminated furs and small supply crates. Behind the counter, she spotted unloaded muskets on a rack, as well as casks of gunpowder and paper cartridges. Silently, Nathariel went about his business. He picked up armfuls of glass jars and passed them to Vayra. Inside were pickled vegetables¡ªwere those normal carrots?¡ªand pickled eggs. They brought the jars to the counter, then returned for a few of the paper-wrapped packages. Out of curiosity, Vayra peeled one open, revealing a tightly-packed brick of jerky strips. She couldn¡¯t tell what type of meat it was. As they picked up a couple of the paper packages, Vayra asked, ¡°Why are you teaching me, then? If you think you can¡¯t do anything to help, then why¡ª¡± ¡°I never said that,¡± Nathariel said, keeping his voice low. ¡°Are you doing it for the good of the galaxy, though? Do you care if I can destroy Karmion?¡± ¡°Of course I do.¡± Despite his calm tone, he tightened his fist so tight the paper package began to crumple. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have fought for as long as I have, trying to preserve justice and nature, if I didn¡¯t care.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you seek me out sooner, then?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know about you.¡± ¡°Bullshit.¡± Nathariel crossed his arms, and put two of the paper packages back on the shelf for a moment. ¡°Alright. I chose to train you when I saw that you were almost a blank slate, mostly free from other instructors¡¯ tampering.¡± ¡°Why does that matter?¡± ¡°I could build your foundation as strong as possible.¡± Gently, he picked the boxes back up. ¡°My old teacher told me to pass on his instruction to as many students as I could. He had secrets, techniques, and vast knowledge¡­which was mostly lost when he died.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows. ¡°How powerful was your master?¡± ¡°He was in line to inherit the God of Fire¡¯s Godhood and ascend.¡± Nathariel carried the boxes back to the counter, then called for a clerk to assist him. A short and shrewd man emerged from a door further back in the building, his back bent. He walked on a cane, and when he arrived at the counter, he examined the goods Nathariel had set out. ¡°Ten Quivres.¡± Nathariel reached into his pocket and produced a leather pouch, then plucked out precisely ten gold coins¡ªmarked as Elderworld currency with a sigil, an eagle perched atop an anchor. The clerk softly bid them farewell once he¡¯d taken the coins and scampered back to safety, mumbling softly to himself. ¡°I hoped to pass on my instructor¡¯s ways to a disciple,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I have made mistakes in my youth, took too many elixirs and sought quick boosts to my power¡ªat the expense of spiritual health. I will advance no further, but a disciple may be able to carry on my instructor¡¯s wisdom.¡± ¡°You think I can do that?¡± Vayra tilted her head. ¡°I think I can pass on some of my knowledge and forge you into the Mediator the galaxy needs. Truth be told, I believe Glade may be a true successor to my instructor¡¯s Path. But both of you are important to me.¡± He pulled his horn off his hip, then removed its cap. For the first time, Vayra got a good look inside it. On the inside, it had the space of a large barrel, with blank, brown walls and a few pouches stored on an invisible floor. He began to slip the jars and paper packages into it, fitting them into neat rows and stacking them. ¡°That should be it,¡± he said. ¡°What about the horse feed?¡± ¡°Do you see any?¡± She shook her head, though she wouldn¡¯t know exactly what to look for. Nathariel nodded pointedly. ¡°Supply lines over the mountains aren¡¯t reliable. There are shortages of¡­anything here, any time. We were lucky they had this much.¡± He placed the last jar inside his horn, then sealed it with a cap. ¡°We should get moving before anyone tries to get brave.¡± Vayra took one last look around the dingy storehouse, then grimaced. ¡°Alright. Yeah. Let¡¯s go.¡± Chapter 41: Acceptance [Volume 2] Vayra went about the rest of the day as best as she could, trying to pretend that everything was normal and that she¡¯d accepted her fate¡ªto train under Nathariel. When evening came, she ate dinner with Glade and Nathariel. Her stomach still churned, and she felt an odd anticipation in her chest. Every second, she figured something might snap, and she would have to run. Nothing bad happened, not through dinner nor while everyone was trying to fall asleep. She stayed wide awake, and she figured there was no use pretending she had fallen asleep. It wasn¡¯t as though she¡¯d slept well the previous nights, so it would probably be more absurd if she did pretend to sleep. Besides, Nathariel would probably sense her pretending, too. She needed to wait until he was asleep. ¡®Vayra, you need to stop,¡¯ Phason¨¦ tried. The Goddess had been trying all day, and Vayra had started to tune her out as best as she could. ¡®And I can feel you thinking that, too! But you¡¯re not doing a very good job at tuning me out; I know you¡¯re hearing what I¡¯m saying.¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t react. She had to look like she was sleeping. After a few hours, when she couldn¡¯t hear Nathariel shifting, and she could hear Glade snoring, she slipped out of her hammock. She hadn¡¯t truly tested Nathariel¡¯s senses, but she doubted he would be too in-tune with his surroundings while he was sleeping. She stepped to the door, making sure to keep every step and every footfall as soft as possible. When she reached the door, she placed her hand on the handle and pushed. The hinges creaked, and she winced. Her toe went numb for a second, and she stumbled forwards, but she used the door to catch herself. No one woke up. Losing control of her limbs? Phason¨¦ was trying to push in again. As soon as Vayra was outside, she sprinted down to the river. ¡°Phason¨¦, please be with me on this one,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll need your help. Please.¡± ¡®I don¡¯t want you to die,¡¯ Phason¨¦ asserted. ¡°You don¡¯t want to die with me, that¡¯s it?¡± If the Goddess was truly afraid, then all she needed to do was say so. Vayra wouldn¡¯t hold it against her¡ªthat was natural. But to let it stand in the way of helping her friends? ¡®Maybe you can do this without getting caught. But there¡¯s a risk, and¡­I don¡¯t want you to get hurt.¡¯ Phason¨¦ sighed, which sounded like a whistling wind inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®I don¡¯t want you to change, Vayra.¡¯ ¡°Then take over and stop me.¡± ¡®I¡¯ve been trying.¡¯ All throughout the evening, there had been a few instances of a numbness-like tingle rolling through her fingers. ¡®You¡¯re too strong now,¡¯ Phason¨¦ continued, ¡®We need to work together.¡¯ Vayra looked down at the river. There were no stars out, only a cloud of ash above. A bolt of lightning shot through it, however, illuminating the water for a moment. ¡®Vayra, I care about you. I want you to succeed. I want us to succeed. And I don¡¯t want you to get hurt. Please.¡¯ ¡°I won¡¯t. Phas, I promise. We¡¯ll get in there, we¡¯ll help, and we¡¯ll get right back out.¡± Vayra clapped her hands back and forth, like she was wiping dust off them. ¡°Done and dusted, really quick.¡± The Goddess inhaled slowly, then groaned, ¡®Alright, fine. Fine.¡¯ Vayra glanced back at the hovel, then at the horses. She contemplated stealing one for a moment, but she doubted she could go overland like Nathariel could. She wasn¡¯t a God-heir who could sense volcanoes¡ªand probably stop them with a flick of her hand. Her best bet was back through the Chambers. She patted her haversack and her satchel, and she made sure her pistol was loaded. As soon as she was satisfied, she jogged down the shore of the river, trying to put as much distance as she could between the hovel and herself as she could. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Bremi woke up in a cold stone cell. Part of him wanted to say he had just woken up in it, and to forget everything that had led to it, but he couldn¡¯t. They had been ripped from the cargo hold of the Harmony, dragged onto a wagon, hauled inland with the rest of the crew¡­ He pushed himself up to his feet and walked over to the corner. He didn¡¯t exactly know where here was. Some sort of mining facility, as best as he could glimpse it, on the shore of a lava river. The cell was made of stone, and the front wall, the one with a door, was entirely a metal lattice. He could see out into a hallway, lined with about ten more of the cells. Each, like this one, was stuffed with people from the Harmony¡¯s crew. Sailors, officers, everyone. Bremi recognized a few officers in his cell. Lieutenant Tikks, and a few of the Carpenter¡¯s Mates¡ªwho he was equal in rank to, by the book, but they were older and had much more experience. He knew there was only one reason Myrrir had captured them. They were bait. It had already been a few days, and most of the crew had given up on the prospect of escape. But that meant putting the Mediator at risk, and thus, the whole galaxy. Bremi knew his sister; she was coming, whether she¡¯d promised him otherwise or not. Bremi slipped through the sailors and officers in his cell, and put his hands on the lattice wall of their cell. These rooms hadn¡¯t been built to hold prisoners. It was a mining facility¡ªthese were storage chambers for equipment. But Myrrir had struck some sort of deal with the operators of the facility, and he didn¡¯t know what it was. He wrapped his fingers around the lattice and leaned as far forward as he could, then whispered, ¡°Captain! Captain Pels!¡± Over the past few days that they¡¯d been trapped, everyone had been calling for their captain, uttering one thing or the other. Most begged him for a plan, and he had clearly done his best to reassure them, but in a predicament like this, there was little to be reassured of. But Bremi had a plan. ¡°Captain!¡± he hissed again, looking up and down the hallway for guards. Myrrir¡¯s pirates patrolled, but not often. It was more common to see an employee of the facility rushing past, head low, trying to avoid the gaze of the prisoners. ¡°What is it?¡± Pels whispered back from a different cell, his voice calm and soothing. If it was a show, he was doing a good job at convincing everyone that it was all under control. ¡°I have an idea,¡± Bremi said. ¡°We¡ª¡± He cut himself off as soon as he heard a clatter from down the hall. A door swung open. A pirate guard marched down the hallway, grumbling to himself. Bremi thought the oceanfolk man said something about Myrrir, though he couldn¡¯t say for certain. As soon as the guard reached the end of the hall and passed through another door, Bremi said, ¡°We just need the keys.¡± ¡° ¡®Course we do, boy,¡± Pels replied. ¡°The workers also have keys.¡± Bremi had been watching closely the last few days. For as long as he had been paying attention, he noticed that some of the higher-ranking workers carried keys¡ªafter all, these cells had been used to store expensive mining equipment before they¡¯d been repurposed. ¡°And the workers are with Myrrir.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like they have much choice if they¡¯ve gotta deal with a God-heir.¡± Bremi narrowed his eyes. He needed to wait for some more evidence to pass by, then. After a few hours, another worker walked down the hall. He was a human, his skin caked in ash and soot so dark that Bremi couldn¡¯t make out where his head began and where his clothes ended. The only reason Bremi knew he was a worker was because of his brassy epaulet with a sigil that looked like a fishing net. A few streaks ran across it, like he had tried to smear the ash off. He walked with his head down, so his dreadlocks and tricorn hat nearly fell in front of his face. He stepped slowly, every footfall a sigh, and even though he must have been high-ranking in the facility¡ªhe had a ring of keys hanging from his belt¡ªhe didn¡¯t look like he was enjoying himself. Resistances didn¡¯t form on happy planets, Bremi knew that much. He figured he could exploit that. ¡°Excuse me, sir?¡± Bremi said, pushing to the front of the cell, again. He took off his midshipman¡¯s coat and tossed it to the back of the cell, then snatched up a tattered straw hat from a seaman to make his disguise more complete. A bedraggled young seaman was more piteous than an officer. ¡°Sir?¡± The worker took one more step, then came to a halt. With one more exaggerated sigh, he turned to face Bremi. ¡°What?¡± ¡°We were just wondering¡­what do you think¡¯s gonna happen to you, sir, when Myrrir is done with this place?¡± The worker scoffed. ¡°Stuff it.¡± Bremi shrugged. ¡°Myrrir might battle the Mediator here and tear the place up, or rip it to the ground. What¡¯ll you do for work then?¡± The worker began to walk away again, shaking his head. ¡°If you let us go, the Mediator won¡¯t come here¡­you¡¯ll still have a place to work¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯d best shut it if you know what¡¯s good for you, boy,¡± said the worker. ¡°Mediator¡¯s been gone for a lifetime, and one ain¡¯t comin¡¯ back just because you hope real hard.¡± ¡°I know her,¡± Bremi said. ¡°She¡¯s alive, she¡¯s bonded with a Goddess, and she¡¯s coming.¡± ¡°Sounds like a rogue God-heir to me.¡± ¡°And what God-heir would use starlight?¡± The worker stopped, but still, he shook his head and said, ¡°I dunno the ins and outs of the Starlight Goddess¡¯ crotch, and I don¡¯t much want to.¡± Still, Bremi sensed a touch of hesitation in the man¡¯s voice. He could work with that. ¡°If you let us go, what happens?¡± Bremi pestered. ¡°Myrrir doesn¡¯t have to know it was you.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll kill us all if he finds out. Pop our heads full of gunpowder or just have us hanged.¡± ¡°But he won¡¯t find out.¡± The man said nothing, but he didn¡¯t walk away, either. ¡°What happens if Myrrir does capture the Mediator again?¡± Bremi asked. ¡°You¡¯re afraid of the God-heirs? When there¡¯s no one left to fight them, what¡¯ll you do then?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep my head down and shut up.¡± The worker stared at Bremi for a moment, then glanced up and down the hallway. As far as Bremi could see, there was no-one around, and the worker must have decided the same. He turned his hip towards the cell¡ªhis belt and keyring along with it¡ªthen looked Bremi in the eyes and nodded. ¡°I want to make a living, kid¡­and keep my life. And you should too. Stay quiet. Get out of here, and forget you ever heard the word Mediator. She ain¡¯t coming back.¡± Bremi plucked the keyring from the man¡¯s hip and delivered an innocent smile. Chapter 42: The Rabbit and the Snare [Volume 2] Vayra ran through the mountains, searching for an entrance to the Night Vale Chambers. As soon as she got inside, the door would prevent anyone else from following her. But she needed to find it, first. She navigated through the valleys, doing her best to remember the way she had come when she¡¯d travelled with Nathariel. It had been a winding route at the river¡¯s edge¡­until it hadn¡¯t been, and she remembered she had to curve away from it, towards a sometimes-flowing lava channel. Well, just her luck¡ªtoday it was flowing. She crept along the edge, on the shore or black gravel, dodging bubbles of molten stone and sparks as best she could¡ªshe figured even molten stone would be too much for her phoenix¡¯s skin to handle, and surely more than Phason¨¦ could take. Every step, more of the shore crumbled, and she almost slipped a boot into the flow once or twice. If she lingered in one spot too long, the soles of her boots began to char, but if she ran too fast, her footfalls were too heavy, and the shore threatened to crumble. ¡®Careful, Vayra,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®The key word is careful.¡¯ By the time she reached the doorway, she was praying that there had been no one else who entered the Chambers today. She didn¡¯t know if it applied only to a single doorway or to them all, and she didn¡¯t care. All that mattered was getting inside. The doorway was on the other side of the river, so she scaled the edge of the valley as high as she could, then, clinging on to the stone, she plotted a trajectory over the lava flow. As best as she could, she Braced her legs with starlight Arcara, and used the extra burst of strength to fling herself across the river. She pushed a little too hard, and slammed into the rock wall on the other side. She fell down to the ground. Before she tumbled into the lava river, she clutched the stone and held herself in place¡ªas best she could. She still flopped down onto the gravel shore, then immediately hopped up as soon as her robe began to smoulder. Constantly stepping side to side, she examined the runes surrounding the doorframe. It looked the same as the door on the other side of the mountains, and she figured that flooding it with mana and Arcara would work. She held out her hand, touched the doorframe, and pushed. White and blue light bled out the palm of her hand and into the door. The runes lit up, then began to shine with power. They glowed brighter and brighter, then¡ª She left out a breath that had caught in her throat, then resumed a consistent, stable cycling pattern¡ªa more combat-focussed pattern. She had to take the most direct route north, which meant she might have to venture a little deeper into the caverns. But now, she was a Master. That had to count for something. She turned her shoulder and pushed through the doorway. As soon as she passed through, the brick wall snapped back into existence behind her. ¡°Alright, Phas,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Just a trip back through some¡­dark tunnels¡­¡± At least it wasn¡¯t so dark this time. She looked down at the scarf, then drew enough starlight from it to form a seer-core above her hand. ¡®I¡¯d suggest moving sooner than later, so the magmaspawn don¡¯t have a chance to catch up,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Yep, yep,¡± Vayra said. She held her hand out in front of her as far as she could, illuminating the tunnel. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡± Nathariel woke up and found what he¡¯d expected. Scratch that. He¡¯d expected it to happen a few days ago, and was surprised it took her this long. He¡¯d expected it, in a way. Glade wasn¡¯t taking it well. ¡°We need to go after her!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°Bring her back, or Myrrir will kill her!¡± ¡°And when we bring her back, what will we do?¡± ¡°I just¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°She¡¯s made her choice. She¡¯ll do this whether we try to stop her or not. It¡¯s happened with every one of my disciples. They¡¯re all the same. And I¡¯m sure when you get strong enough, you¡¯ll flee too.¡± ¡°I do not think I will ever get strong enough for that,¡± Glade said. ¡°Don¡¯t be so certain, boy.¡± Nathariel walked to the door, then looked outside. All of his horses were still here. Good. ¡°I¡¯ve seen disciples with less potential than you advance higher. Though, they also had much, much more money¡­but I digress.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°What are we going to do, then?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Accept it. She¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Glade sprinted around, then barged in front of Nathariel. ¡°We cannot! We would be dooming the Galaxy!¡± Nathariel had to admit, the boy was loyal and determined. But at what point would he realize that he was embarking on a pointless journey? He could chase after Vayra all he wanted. Disciples like that never changed. With a frustrated grunt, Nathariel pushed the door all the way open. He pushed past Glade and took a reluctant step outside. After a few seconds, he was about to take another step, but he glanced back for a moment to find Glade standing behind him with a book in hand. The Godscourge book. ¡°Of course she forgot it.¡± Nathariel snapped it out of the boy¡¯s hands and clutched it tightly. ¡°Did she forget it?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Or did she plan to come back?¡± Again, he ran outside. ¡°Forgive me, sir¡ªElder, or however you may title yourself¡ªbut I know Vayra. She might run off without thinking, but she is not evil, and she is not doing this out of spite. But she will need help, and you are an Admiral. You could help.¡± ¡°I am an instructor who has failed at every turn,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Every time, they fail. I thought a pair of blank slates might be the key, but it seems not. There¡¯s such thing as evil, boy, and it can corrupt anyone. I could be training the next Karmion, and I might never know it.¡± ¡°She will not turn to Karmion¡¯s side,¡± Glade asserted. ¡°And why not?¡± Nathariel gripped the Godscourge book and marched south, walking as fast as he could. There was no need to run. The boy could follow if he wanted. ¡°Because she wants to help!¡± Glade¡¯s footsteps crunched in the gravel behind Nathariel, trailing him towards the split in the river. ¡°Yet she won¡¯t listen,¡± Nathariel said, increasing his pace. Subconsciously, his body began to walk faster than it would normally have been capable of, fuelled by his Arcara. ¡°She chose to walk into this trap, and she chose to doom the Galaxy. That was all on her. Even if she doesn¡¯t crack in front of Karmion, her absence is enough.¡± ¡°The absence of people like you did not help, either.¡± Now, Glade had to sprint to keep up with Nathariel. ¡°Were you willing to throw yourself at every bluecoat you saw until they slaughtered you? No? Then don¡¯t lecture me about not helping. I was one man against a Galaxy¡¯s worth of Gods and their children.¡± He placed a hand on his ribs, where the patch of fabric and starsteel netting substituted for his skin. ¡°I¡¯d fight them again, if it wasn¡¯t entirely futile.¡± The branch in the rivers approached. He marched onto the crumbling bridge and sprang across it. Glade, however, couldn¡¯t yet enhance his body. He stared down at the edge, then inched as far forward as he could. The boy¡¯s eyebrows angled outwards and his eyes pleaded. ¡°You could come with us, sir. You could come back to Velaydia and help¡ªby training us.¡± ¡°Last time I offered my assistance, the Order of Balance tried to kill me.¡± Nathariel shook his head, then marched towards the former Arcara storage room. ¡°I think not, boy.¡± Bracing his vocal cords so his voice travelled further, he said, ¡°You can stay here and continue your training with me, or you can go after her. The choice is yours.¡± If Glade replied, Nathariel couldn¡¯t hear it. He looked forwards, towards the yawning black hole. He had only stepped into the Arcara storage room once, when he had first found this place. When he¡¯d explained what it was to Vayra, he hadn¡¯t been entirely honest with her. The Arcara was strong enough to reach inside one¡¯s core and examine a soul. It didn¡¯t just have a slight degree of prescience because it was magic, but because it could see a soul, and know the most likely decisions its bearer would make. It was the deepest form of spiritual scanning possible. Most times, that manifested in visions inspired by the soul and spirit. But sometimes, they were more than just visions. Clutching the Godscourge book tight, Nathariel marched into the storage room. He imagined giant spools lining the walls, where the Dragon Gods would have spun Arcara-soaked fire into strands for storage. He imagined a hundred powerful, half-scaled humanoids organizing the room, doing their best to build this facility, for whatever its grand purpose was. Nathariel shut his eyes and opened them again, but he saw nothing different. ¡°Since when did I ever teach you to give up, hrmm?¡± That¡­voice. Soft, calm, and melodious. Immediately, Nathariel fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. ¡°Instructor, sir, I am not worthy.¡± The ends of a soft, sky blue robe passed in front of Nathariel¡¯s eyes. He spared a glance upwards. The vision looked real. As real as anything could. He traced the sky-blue robe up to a man¡¯s face. He wasn¡¯t exactly the pinnacle of virility, not with his smooth features and locks of long blonde hair that formed an upside-down V around his eyes. Two fox ears, matching the tone of his hair, sprouted from the top of his head, and a fluffy tail swished behind him. But he radiated a different, stronger kind of power with each step: wisdom. ¡°And I never once told you to bow so hard and fast that you cracked the floor.¡± He swatted Nathariel on the back of the head with a small wooden rod. ¡°You went from Commodore to Admiral without my instruction.¡± Nathariel felt his eyes beginning to glisten. This wasn¡¯t real. His old teacher was gone, sitting in the heavens and shaking his head with disappointment. ¡°Our students make mistakes, Nathariel.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve been¡ª¡± ¡°No. The phoenix.¡± The man knelt before Nathariel. ¡°Let her make her mistakes. A rabbit only learns to fear traps when it gets caught in one. But the rabbit must make it out alive. Only then will she learn.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Is that not what I taught you?¡± He shook his head, a low growl escaping his lips. ¡°You came to me, a young man on a Fire Path, at the Master stage. You were only¡­two decades old? Three? What would that young man think of you now, hrmm? I reckon that he¡¯d not be pleased.¡± ¡°No¡­he wouldn¡¯t be,¡± Nathariel breathed. ¡°He wanted disciples, students to pass on the techniques he learned to. He wanted everyone around him to succeed.¡± ¡°Then you know what to do. The rabbit must make it out of the snare.¡± ¡°What will happen to her?¡± ¡°Let me show you my best guess¡­¡± Chapter 43: Putting Everything Together The hallways sloped downwards, and this time, Vayra didn¡¯t try to avoid them. She needed to take the most direct route possible. She walked as fast as she could. Running was still out of the question¡ªshe needed to keep her stamina up in case she ever had to fight. If she got injured, it would just slow her down, no matter how much better her healing was now. She took a turn, and soon, she was walking through a tunnel that she didn¡¯t recognize. None of the rooms it connected to were familiar, either. She found a storeroom, with stone shelves and trickling channels of Stream water. For a few minutes, she searched the shelves. If the chambers had once been a storeroom for magical items, then maybe she would find something here. But the shelves were all empty. Cobwebs clung to the stone, and when she wiped the dust off, there was enough of it that it began to cloud the air. If there had been any treasures here, they had long since been looted. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a gurgle from behind, and a couple of roars from either side of the little room¡ªfrom the four intersecting hallways. The hallway to the right began to glow with amber light. Vayra clenched her fists. But there was no need to fight if she didn¡¯t have to. She turned to the northwards tunnel, ready to continue onwards, when she spotted a dark shadow looming in that tunnel as well. It didn¡¯t have glowing horns or flesh made of rock, but it was as large as a horse and prowled towards her on all six legs. A drake. Its skin was made of black scales. Its eyes glimmered, and it opened its mouth. As it walked, it licked its lips, then struck the back of its metal teeth with a flint embedded in the tip of its tongue. She stepped back into the storeroom, where the magmaspawn had gathered. Three of the beasts lumbered in through the doors, gurgling and growling. They all hoisted crude weapons, ready to mash her into a pulp. ¡°Trying to trap me, were you?¡± she muttered. As quickly as she could, she drew the power of her seer-core into her body and Braced her arms with it. ¡®I don¡¯t think they were pleased about you travelling so deep into the Chambers this soon,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®That, or something else riled them up.¡¯ ¡°The drake?¡± ¡®I doubt it. Looks like they¡¯re friends with the drake. Possibly something else.¡¯ Vayra wanted to respond, but the closest magmaspawn swung a broad club at her. She dropped down to her knees, imagining one of the training dummies throwing a wide steel bar towards her chest. She lowered her head just enough to dip under it. She made a fist. Instinct, drilled into her by the dummies, took over. She punched at the creature¡¯s stomach. Her fist collided, but not fast enough. The magmaspawn¡¯s stomach only cracked. Another approached from the side, lunging at her with obsidian daggers. She stepped back quickly and shattered them with a counter-attack¡ªexactly how the dummies had taught her to move while dodging the inevitable. The magmaspawn reached for her shoulders, however, which she hadn¡¯t anticipated. Its claws stretched out, seething with glowing orange embers. She jumped back again. The creature stumbled. Before it could swipe again, she punched it in its gut as hard as she could. The beast¡¯s rocky body cracked around the impact point, but it kept advancing. She caught one of its arms and crushed its wrist in her temporarily-enhanced grip. ¡®If you¡¯re going to keep punching, then feed more starlight Arcara to your shoulder and elbow!¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. ¡®A strong fist will only get you so far.¡¯ ¡°Working on it.¡± Vayra glanced around. The four magmaspawn converged, leaking out of the three hallways behind her, and the drake still advanced from the hallway ahead, slow and cautious. She transferred all of the power she¡¯d absorbed into her right arm. Ducking under another swipe from the nearest spawn, she sprung forwards. She drove her fist again into its cracked gut, and with a boom, the impact shattered it. Shards of stone flew backward from the impact site, but most of the creature collapsed into a pile of harmless dust and sparks. The drake hissed, spilling a stream of some sort of gas from its mouth. As soon as the drake struck its tongue against its teeth, the gas ignited, burning a trail through the air. Vayra leapt to the side, mostly for the sake of Phason¨¦, then pressed her back against the wall. The three remaining magmaspawn pounced through the wall of flames, charging at her with stone clubs. She ducked and spun, dodging the clubs like she had dodged the training dummies¡¯ vents of power. Leaping to the side, ducking, leaning, and¡ª And taking a strike straight to the chest. It flung her across the small room and into the wall, and it hurt just as much as before. ¡®No one said you could reliably complete the training course,¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained, in-between pained groans. Vayra rolled to the side, just in time to avoid a blast of the drake¡¯s flame. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®I can stand a little of it, you know.¡¯ ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± Vayra pushed herself to her feet, just in time to lean and avoid one of the magmaspawn¡¯s heavy strikes. ¡°You just complained about it a ton, so I figured it was just as deadly to you as it was to a human.¡± ¡®When you get stronger, you¡¯ll give me more Arcara, and I¡¯ll be able to take more.¡¯ Vayra forced herself to resume her breathing technique, no matter how much it hurt her ribs. When a magmaspawn swung its club at her head, she gripped its wrist so tight that the stone began to crack under her glowing fingers. ¡°Well, how about that?¡± she muttered. Like she was throwing a ball, she tried to toss the first magmaspawn into the one just behind it. Her arm might have been strengthened, but it didn¡¯t make the rest of her any heavier. Nor did it make the rest of her body strong enough to throw the equivalent of a statue. The magmaspawn flung her off, and she slid across the room. When she came to a rest, she landed at the feet of the drake. It smiled, then lunged and tried to rip her throat out with its maw. Just in time, she rolled to the side and spun away from its clawed feet. They swished through the air, catching the tip of her starry scarf. Vayra expected them to tear the fabric, but they didn¡¯t. They hooked on. The drake pulled her to the ground with the scarf. Trying to free herself, she punched its leg with her starlight-infused arm. A few scales cracked. A bone snapped. Howling, the drake backed up. It raised its neck and blasted out a puff of flame. The fire flew over her head and blasted straight into one of the magmaspawn. The humanoid didn¡¯t melt, but the force sent it skidding back to the other side of the room. Vayra drew her pistol from her belt and tried to shoot the drake in the chin. The shot flew wide and clipped the side of its head, drawing blood but not killing it. It reeled, releasing Vayra¡¯s scarf. She leapt to her feet and punched it in the side of the head, putting as much force as she could into the strike. Her knuckles slapped against its scales, and she skidded back a few feet. But most of the force funnelled into the drake¡¯s head, launching it into the corner of the wall, at the intersection between the northward hallway and the room. The last three magmaspawn charged. First, she dealt with the creature whose wrist she had severed. She sidestepped away from its claws and blasted its arm with a starlight palm, rendering it defenseless. Then, she struck in the chest with her fist, this time hard enough to put a hole in it. Two more. They swung at her, but she anticipated where their strikes would land. She dodged and struck back, letting her limbs recall the habits of the training course. With her mind and breaths, she directed which limb the starlight-Arcara mixture flooded and Braced next. Legs and knees, left arms, right arm¡­ Every time she tried to transfer starlight-Arcara through her body, she felt it searing through her channels. She tried to follow it with a flood of regular, pure Arcara, which soothed the damaged channels a little bit. Another surge of pure Arcara, and they felt clean and cool again. She disarmed the first magmaspawn with a punch to its wrist, then a Starlight Palm to its chin. It reeled. She destroyed it with a roundhouse kick, Bracing her shin with starlight. The second fell to a rapid burst of punches, each requiring her to shift her Arcara back and forth as fast as she could between her arms. Finally, the last magmaspawn crumbled to a powerful kick to its gut. She fell to a crouch, trying to catch her breath. More than aching muscles and bones, the rapid punches had put a strain on her spirit and it stung. It was a different kind of pain, which she did her best to wash away. She breathed two cycles, using the fastest pattern she knew, until the burning strain on her spirit faded. ¡®Still, you lasted longer than most would,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®And at least you can recover from that. That would have done permanent damage to most God-heirs.¡¯ Vayra pushed herself back to her feet, shaking out her arms. She let the mixture of Arcara and starlight fade out of her body, then glanced around. Aside from the little wisps of white light racing up to the ceiling, the only light came from her scarf. Again, she concentrated her starlight into the seer-core¡ªjust to give herself some light. The drake was stirring. It wasn¡¯t dead yet. Slowly, on the opposite side of the room, it climbed to its feet. ¡°Phas, how much mana do we have left?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®You¡¯ve used about three-quarters of your store. You could have just looked at the seer-core.¡¯ ¡°I could¡¯ve.¡± Vayra took a deep breath. ¡°But we¡¯ve got other concerns.¡± She wasn¡¯t exactly looking forward to another close-quarters brawl with the drake. ¡°Let¡¯s try throwing the scythe again.¡± Vayra held her hand just above her shoulder, drawing more starlight out of the scarf. She gave Phason¨¦ control of the hand, letting it fall limp. As the drake tried scrambling back to its feet, the scythe manifested. Nudging the scarf with her chin, Vayra asked, ¡°Can this thing run out of starlight?¡± ¡®It¡¯s a window into space. Unless the stars themselves die, or you drain them all, they¡¯ll still be there.¡¯ As soon as the scythe had fully formed, Vayra drew in the last light of the seer-core and used it to Brace her arm¡ªas best she could. Along with the ghostly white outline of her hand, the skin beneath glowed too. ¡°Now try throwing it. My arm¡¯s Braced now; it should be stronger.¡± ¡®Gladly.¡¯ The drake pushed itself to its feet, malice glimmering in its eyes. Its claws clicked against the stone floor. Vayra heaved with her shoulder and let her elbow follow through. Phason¨¦ guided her wrist, and the scythe leapt out of her hand. It spun through the air and cleaved through the drake¡¯s forelegs, before clattering along the ground. The moulded Arcara hissed and sputtered, and the blade left glowing scars in the stone. It came to a halt, and then an invisible force began to draw it back towards her hand. This time, it wasn¡¯t dissipating as quickly. ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Vayra muttered. She ducked. The scythe whirled back towards her. She raised her arm and leaned back, and Phason¨¦ tightened her fingers just in time to catch the very end of the scythe¡¯s haft. The drake, incapacitated, howled and writhed. Some drakes, the strongest ones, learned to speak. Vayra doubted this one had, isolated in the Chambers and not terribly powerful.. Instead, it voiced its pain through nonsensical noises. She figured she¡¯d put it out of its misery. Approaching carefully, she raised the scythe above her head and slashed down, impaling the beast¡¯s neck. It stopped moving in seconds. Vayra took control back of her hand, dispelling the scythe. ¡°Well¡­that went better than last time,¡± she breathed, rubbing her ribs. ¡®At least you can heal yourself now¡­but still, best not to linger. Let¡¯s fill up your mana and keep moving.¡¯ Chapter 44: Journey Back [Volume 2] A few days passed before Vayra encountered any true trouble again. This time, it wasn¡¯t just a lone magmaspawn or a drake. It was a flame wraith. She¡¯d always run from those before. The flame wraiths were a column of swirling flame and smoke, tall enough to reach from floor to ceiling. Every so often, an animal-like head sprouted out of its main tornado-shaped body, moulded from flame. She couldn¡¯t tell exactly which animal it was, but it was reptilian. Maybe¡­with a wolf¡¯s maw. As soon as she saw it, she tucked around a corner and pressed her back against the wall. She didn¡¯t know what it was capable of, or if it was truly stronger than the drakes or magmaspawn, but she didn¡¯t want to find out. And she didn¡¯t need to. She wasn¡¯t here to torment the local fauna. Its orange light shifted down the intersecting hallway. Had it seen her? It stopped. She dispelled her seer-core, hoping it would draw less attention to herself. The white still slithered up to the roof and clung to the stone, though, and still produced light. ¡°What is it?¡± she whispered as softly as she could. ¡®When a powerful dragon¡ªnot necessarily a Dragon God¡ªdies, it leaves behind an explosion of Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®That can sometimes manifest as a wraith, like this.¡¯ Vayra kept her back pressed tight against the wall, willing the wraith to move along. She didn¡¯t need to fight it. She even held her breath. Finally, the orange, flicking flames shifted, and the wraith continued along the hallway, away from her. When its light faded, she crept out of hiding and searched for any sign of the creature. ¡®I see nothing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Though I am working with your eyes, and they can¡¯t be all that amazing¡­¡¯ Vayra let out a soft chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything either.¡± By now, they had descended deep enough¡ªand walked far enough north¡ªthat there were no open vents to the outside. Vayra gathered up all the Arcara she had expelled and formed her seer-core again. There was no point in wasting perfectly good Arcara, even if the Burning Flame Loop could purify more much faster than she was ever able to before. She kept walking, making sure to glance around every corner cautiously. She was certain that she had deviated from the path she¡¯d used on the way in, but that was probably for the best. It hadn¡¯t exactly been a direct route. Instead of running, she kept her gait to a walk and tried to step as softly as she could. It¡¯d be easier to react to threats that way, and hopefully, easier to avoid them. Deeper in the Chambers, the air was dry but incredibly hot. Regularly, Vayra checked up on Phason¨¦ to make sure the Goddess wasn¡¯t starting to blister. ¡®I¡¯m fine, Vayra. Just don¡¯t hop in a lava river.¡¯ At least, that was what Phason¨¦ had said when they crossed over a deep underground ravine whose bottom was filled with bubbling magma and flame. As they crept across a thin, cracking bridge, Vayra whispered, ¡°Didn¡¯t plan on it.¡± For a few more days, she continued on in the same manner. Every night, she stopped to sleep as long as she could, wherever she could, but the Chambers weren¡¯t conducive to rest. Every time she tried to settle down, she heard a distant rumble or something nearby slithering around. One evening¡ªor maybe morning, or maybe afternoon; she couldn¡¯t tell¡ªshe pulled herself into Phason¨¦¡¯s void. It might not be much of a rest for her body, but at least it would be a rest for her mind. ¡°How close do you figure we are?¡± Vayra asked when the falling sensation stopped. She faced a real-looking manifestation of the Goddess, who laid flat on her back and breathed with her mouth. ¡°A little over halfway, I¡¯d say.¡± Phason¨¦ shugged. ¡°Any moment, we should start sloping upwards. It¡¯ll get cooler, and a little less hostile. Hopefully.¡± She fanned herself with her hand, then smiled jokingly. ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re not super nervous and awkward in here anymore.¡± Vayra walked over and sat down beside Phason¨¦. ¡°Of course I¡¯m nervous,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Just not nervous about you. Nervous for you, now.¡± ¡°You sure you¡¯re doing alright? This doesn¡¯t sound a ton like you. You should be complaining or something.¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m fine.¡± Vayra turned her hand over and pressed her knuckles against Phason¨¦¡¯s shoulder. The Goddess¡¯ skin was warmer than usual. ¡°You can¡¯t get sick, can you?¡± Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°Not anymore. My body would destroy the illness before it took hold. Unless you get a cold, then I¡¯m sure I would feel it, too.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll be out of here soon.¡± She laid down on her back beside Phason¨¦, then inched away slightly. For a few more¡­well, it felt like minutes (though it couldn¡¯t have been that long outside the void) they stared up at the blank white sky. Vayra tried taking deep breaths, though she still felt physically exhausted, and she doubted that would change without giving her body outside a true rest. ¡°Alright, Phas, I¡¯m gonna keep moving,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Don¡¯t burn up.¡± She left the void and stood up, then kept walking. About an hour later, she found an enormous hall with a magma waterfall on one side and a culvert that let in distilled Stream water on the other. The molten red stone was enough to illuminate the little room, casting a steady glow as it flowed through the chamber¡¯s center along a messy canal. It met with the Stream water in the middle of the room, forming an enormous mound of cooled rock. She took a step into the room, nearly slipping on the black stone floor¡ªso smooth she thought it was polished, until she looked at the ripple pattern. The lava falls had probably overflowed at some point, turning the floor slippery. At the very center of the room, she spotted a large, rocky mound, the length of three horses. It was almost beetle-shaped. She was about to pass it off as a statue or a decoration¡ªit hadn¡¯t been moving¡ªwhen it dipped its head down and slurped a mouthful of melted rock from the magma river with a proboscis. Veins of amber light shone all across its shell, and its eyes glimmered orange. Vayra stopped moving immediately. It might have seen her. ¡®They have horrible eyesight,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®If you move slowly, it shouldn¡¯t see you.¡¯ But what was it? ¡®What does it look like?¡¯ A magma beetle? ¡®Correct. A large magmaspawn. It will eat you if it has the chance.¡¯ There was only one other tunnel out of the room, and it was past the beetle¡ªon the other side of the room. Vayra crept across the room to the culvert, then stepped slowly through the water in its basin. It rose up to her knees, and when it touched her skin, she felt extra mana flowing into her body. A refill was nice, but she couldn¡¯t stay any longer than necessary. When she reached the other side of the culvert, her wet boots slipped on the smooth stone. She fell to all fours, then froze. Not good, she thought. Please don¡¯t see me¡­please don¡¯t see me. ¡®I don¡¯t think begging it will do you much good,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. The Goddess was right. The beetle¡¯s head snapped towards Vayra, and it opened its mandibles. Lava dripped from its proboscis, and it chittered angrily. Vayra scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could towards the hallway on the other side. It was just wide enough for the magma beetle to follow her, but she wasn¡¯t turning back now. The darkness of the new hallway surrounded her, but not for long. An orange, flickering glow throbbed behind her, getting closer with every step. She pushed herself as hard as she could. The hallway began to narrow. If she could just get far enough ahead, it would get stuck! For a brief moment, she considered turning around and fighting, but the beetle let out a breathy howl so loud she feared her eardrums would break. The thought that she might find a way to kill it dried up immediately. ¡®Vayra, you aren¡¯t just a cannon,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®You can Brace your body for more than just attacking.¡¯ The comment gave Vayra an idea. She summoned her seer-core, then sucked up its power and fed it evenly to her legs. If it could help her kick harder, then it could also help her run faster. She let the light feed into her knees, then her ankles and calves. Her feet pounded against the ground with explosive energy. Every stride was longer, and her legs moved faster. The walls began to blur, and the orange glow of the beetle faded behind her. After a few minutes, she couldn¡¯t see the creature¡¯s light at all. She let the Bracing fade from her legs, then composed herself with a few calm breaths. The hallway had started to slope up, and it had grown tight enough that she couldn¡¯t extend her arms straight out to the sides. There was no way the beetle could fit in behind her. She didn¡¯t remember when it had gotten stuck, nor when the tunnel had stopped shrinking, or how far she had travelled relatively, but she had gotten out of trouble. For now. Her legs were tired, more than usual after running, and her mouth had grown parched. They must have been running for quite a while. ¡®Almost out of mana,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I¡¯d suggest finding a source somewhere.¡¯ Vayra walked forward for another few hours, but she didn¡¯t find a room with any canals or Stream water in them¡ªonly branching hallways and plenty of choices of where to go. She kept heading north. The creatures in the Chambers, however, wouldn¡¯t wait for her to find a room with Stream water in it. She stopped and leaned against a wall, then opened her haversack. Aside from her scarf, there was no other light, and she couldn¡¯t see the elixirs¡ªuntil she opened their container, revealing the softly glowing vials. She found her last remaining vial of orange liquid and drank it. The mana surged into her stomach, then bled out into her channels. Although it didn¡¯t make her feel any less dehydrated, she would at least have something to work with if she needed. She placed the empty vial back in and tried to sleep. She shut her eyes, and the exhaustion whisked her off to sleep in seconds, She did manage to rest for a few hours. It was peaceful, aside from a few nonsensical dreams that left her confused and bewildered¡ªwhich she could barely remember afterwards. But, one time, halfway through a blast of colours and faces, she heard a voice. And it was her real ears hearing it. She snapped upright, dreams fading. Her heart churned, suddenly beating faster, and she rose to her feet. It was a human¡¯s voice, and it was coming towards her. Chapter 45: Contingencies [Volume 2] From such a distance, Vayra couldn¡¯t make out who the voice belonged to. She feared that it might have been Nathariel¡¯s, or maybe Glade¡¯s. But if those two were going to chase her, they¡¯d have come from behind. She stood up and ducked into an alcove, where it would be harder for anyone to see her. Then she pulled her scarf off and stuffed it into her boots, stopping the stars from glimmering. As long as she stayed perfectly still¡­ ¡®And veil your spirit,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡­and kept her breaths tight and restrained, so no Arcara could move through her body, no one would see or sense her. The voice drew nearer. There was a pair of them, a man and a woman, talking to each other. Soon, a bluish-green glimmer filled the hallway. They had a light of their own. Vayra tucked herself further back into the alcove. ¡°¡­need to go deeper if we want to find anything,¡± said the woman. She held a vial of glowing turquoise liquid ahead of her, illuminating only the center of the hallway. It was barely enough for Vayra to see her in. She wore a brown tunic and a sash, coloured with vibrant lines¡ªwhite, yellow, red, and blue. The man wore a sleeveless shirt, and he carried a pair of muskets on his back. He glanced at his companion and said, ¡°Ahead. There should be a few trails down, if we keep heading onwards.¡± ¡®They¡¯re from the Chambers Company,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Low stage God-heirs in the Company, likely being tested.¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t dare raise her voice to speak. Instead, she directed her thoughts at Phason¨¦: I thought they were supposed to be alone. The doors only let one in at a time in. ¡®The doors can stop them from entering together. There¡¯s nothing to stop them from meeting up with each other after they¡¯ve entered.¡¯ Should we be worried, then? Vayra asked mentally. If they survived long enough to meet up¡­ ¡®Scan their spirits. I don¡¯t know who they are, and they aren¡¯t using any magic.¡¯ How? ¡®Use your spiritual vision. I¡¯ll guide you through it. As long as they aren¡¯t veiling their cores, you should be able to see them.¡¯ Vayra tightened the muscles around her eyes, and imagined she was putting on a pair of eyeglasses. Vibrant colours bled into the walls, like someone had danced through the chambers with bright red and orange paintbrushes. Vayra winced, shocked by how bright it was. It wasn¡¯t nearly as bright at the Arcara storage room, no, but it was almost as bright as day. ¡®That¡¯s what¡¯s left of the flame-Arcara the dragons used to build this place with,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®Now, look at the two Companymen.¡¯ Vayra found the two people, now silhouettes by comparison. How do I see their cores? she inquired. ¡®Imagine you¡¯re tracing Arcara through their channels with your imagination.¡¯ Phason¨¦ paused, as if waiting for Vayra to respond. ¡®Trace it down through their body, through their channels, and into their core. You should be able to feel how strong they are.¡¯ Vayra tried, but compared to their surroundings, these two companymen just looked black. Were they veiling their spirits? ¡®No, they¡¯re not. They¡¯re breathing too deeply for that. Concentrate.¡¯ Vayra turned her gaze to their heads. Their eyes glimmered with colour¡ªjust a little bit¡ªand she thought it might have been their eyes reflecting the light. But¡­the light was turquoise, not faint purple. Their eyes were the window into their bodies. She stared and focussed, and hard as she could, then extended her imagination and perception into their bodies. Their channels were both filled with a shade of purple Arcara, which she traced down to their cores. Their cores, fist-sized balls of purple magical energy, swirled. She couldn¡¯t read it, but she could compare it to her own. It felt¡­slightly stronger, slightly fuller, but not an entire stage ahead. She knew the difference between Master¡¯s Mate and Master, so she applied the same to these cores. ¡®So they¡¯re Masters too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Could their cores be stronger than mine? thought Vayra. ¡®Do they feel an entire stage stronger?¡¯ No. ¡®Then they¡¯re not. Your instincts are a powerful tool, so use them.¡¯ Vayra started to nod, then caught herself. She didn¡¯t want to move at all. She loosened her face, letting go of the spiritual vision, and held her breath. ¡°Did you feel that?¡± the man asked. His head flicked back and forth, and Vayra¡¯s stomach dropped. Maybe he was friendly, and maybe he wasn¡¯t. But she wasn¡¯t part of the company, and that might make them rivals. ¡°Someone scanned our spirits.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving,¡± the woman replied. ¡°I heard that Myrrir¡¯s taken the Narvelpeare Facility. There¡¯s something goin¡¯ on on this planet, and I don¡¯t really wanna be a part of it. Just go deeper and wait it out.¡± They walked down the tunnel at a brisk pace, and Vayra never saw them again. Once she was certain they had passed, she took a deep breath and let a smile bleed onto her face. The Narvelpeare Facility? Knowing its name would make it much, much easier to find. She¡¯d find it faster than Wren and Myrrir were expecting her to¡­ Maybe Vayra would be the one to surprise them, after all. Myrrir paced back and forth across the control deck of the mining facility. The facility owners had begrudgingly given him a corner of the control room, where he and his sailors had set up a table for maps and other sheets of parchment. Tye wrote out plans and documented all the possible ways this could go wrong. He was being hyper-cautious. But Myrrir also didn¡¯t mind planning around Tye¡¯s worst scenarios. It gave him something to think about as he paced, waiting for Vayra to arrive. The control room was a broad rectangular room with a low ceiling. Its walls sloped outwards, with orange glass windows interspersed every few feet to give the workers inside a view of the mining facility. And it was quite the view. A few hours ago, a volcano erupted, pouring lava down the riverbed in front of the facility. Long spindly arms of Arcara-enchanted metal hung outwards over the river, and the most daring workers dangled nets off into the flow. They fished out patches of dark rock, which glowed blue when Myrrir observed them with his spiritual sight. Some sort of valuable, mana-soaked material. Perhaps they were chunks of the Chambers¡¯ walls, or maybe a really powerful and deeply-buried treasure was bleeding into the magma, sharing its mana. Myrrir stopped pacing and walked closer to the window, watching the workers with a deep curiosity. Even though they all knew he was here, using this facility as bait, they kept doing their jobs. Brave, though if he was them, he¡¯d have left already and started looking for a new job. Their foremen called out orders and pointed to the biggest patches of dark material in the flow. They couldn¡¯t have had spiritual vision, but they must have known precisely what types of stone to look for. When he grew tired of watching, he turned back and walked across, where workers in the control room scratched down tallies on sheets of parchment or made note of workers who were pushing themselves especially hard. A few times, one of them even had to run to the lava-flow-facing wall and shout orders into a brass cone. The most important duty of the control room workers, however, seemed to be pouring Stream water onto rune-lines to fuel them. The mana ran along the lines, following simple runes whose only purpose was conductance, until they reached the enchanted panels that guarded the facility from the flow¡¯s heat. Myrrir returned to the table where Tye and the others stood. Tye scrawled down another scenario on a sheet of parchment, while an oceanfolk woman with gills on the side of her head ran her scaly finger down a map. ¡°If the Mediator never comes,¡± Tye said, ¡°your father will be most displeased with this occupation.¡± ¡°What more can he do to me?¡± Myrrir asked, circling around the table before dropping down in a chair on the far side. A lantern hung from the roof, swaying. ¡°He could kill you,¡± Tye stated, his expression calm but intense. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have to know about this, then.¡± ¡°Karmion may hear about it. We are on the north side of the mountains, and news travels faster.¡± Myrrir shook his head. ¡°The Mediator will come. I¡¯m certain. I know it.¡± He leaned back in his chair and feigned nonchalance by putting his hands behind his head. ¡°She¡¯ll want to rescue her friends. She¡¯ll be drawn to them.¡± Tye tapped his quill against the page, putting a blot of ink in the corner. ¡°What if she never finds out?¡± ¡°Wren will tell her,¡± said Myrrir. ¡°That ¡®not a God-heir¡¯ is practically made of spite, and I know she thinks she¡¯s screwing me. Or Karmion. Or Nathariel, or whoever she¡¯s decided to hold a grudge against.¡± ¡°You know her?¡± ¡°She was following us all the way here, then she fluttered off. It¡¯s only a matter of time before she tells the Mediator, and only a matter of¡ª¡± A bell clanged, cutting Myrrir off. He cast off his indifference and hopped to his feet. Was the Mediator here? The bell kept tolling. Myrrir leapt over the table, scattering the maps and spilling Tye¡¯s inkwell, then ran towards the stairwell that led down through the facility. He had posted sentries at each of the facility¡¯s corners; nothing should have slipped past! Before he reached the stairwell, a few people sprinted up it. First, an ash-smeared worker, then a one of Myrrir¡¯s pirates. She was a half-goblin, and her hundreds of facial piercings clinked and clattered as she panted. Instead of carrying her musket on her back, she held it in her hands, and it was cocked. ¡°Captain!¡± she panted. ¡°The prisoners are gone.¡± Myrrir felt his calm expression melting, and he couldn¡¯t control it. His eyebrows scrunched. ¡°Captain?¡± the half-goblin pirate asked again. Her pointed ears drooped. ¡°Gone?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t in the storage compartments! The doors are all open, and the Harmony¡¯s crew is gone!¡± Myrrir pushed past her and sprinted down the stairs. The bell tolled a few more times before falling silent. He took the stairs to their bottom, past the bedraggled, sweaty workers and down into the facility¡¯s basement. He turned down a hallway, pushing through another crowd of workers. A pair of his pirates stood on either side of the hallway, holding their pistols up and ready. ¡°This way,¡± he snapped. They turned down the last hallway, pushed open a pair of doors, then arrived in front of the storage rooms. As promised, all of them were empty. He walked down the hallway, eyes scanning side-to-side. After a few minutes, he heard another set of bootsteps. Someone stood at the doorway. Myrrir looked back and grimaced. ¡°So, Tye? Did you have a contingency for this?¡± The old man chuckled. ¡°None is needed. You have set the ball rolling, and there is little you can do to stop it. As long as the Mediator doesn¡¯t find her crew first, she will still come here.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Do you think she helped them?¡± Tye asked, walking down the hall. He ran his hand along one of the storage compartments. ¡°She would have cut them open, but there¡¯s no sign of her magic. She still thinks they¡¯re here, and all we have to do is wait.¡± Chapter 46: The Lava Planes [Volume 2] Bremi had expected to get caught at any moment. He almost did a few times. The first time he reached around the outside of the cell, fitting the keys into the makeshift cell¡¯s lock, a pirate had stepped into the hallway. He had withdrawn his hand as quickly as he could. He hadn¡¯t been sure if the pirate noticed, and doubly, he hadn¡¯t completely trusted the worker who the keys had come from. So they had waited for a few days. When nothing came of it, Bremi tried again. First, he had unlocked his cell, then he had run down the hallway, unlocking all the other cells as quickly as he could. He kept his finger over his mouth, urging silence from the others, then he pointed down the hallway, where there was a grate in the floor. They pried it open, then climbed down a rusty old ladder, to the bottom of a shadowy underground chamber. The bowels of the facility was a maze of sprawling caverns and lava tubes, and if Bremi wasn¡¯t careful, they¡¯d all end up incinerated. The walls were smooth but naturally curved, and it was nearly pitch-black¡ªaside from the light filtering in from the grate above and little flecks of still-molten stone clinging to the floor. They couldn¡¯t linger long. But if magma could pour in from outside, that meant there was an entrance¡ªand an exit. He followed the trail of sparks and glowing stone. The brighter they were, the closer they had to be to the surface. He followed the trail. The ground began to slope upwards, and the entire crew¡ªnearly a hundred sailors, officers, and marines¡ªhad all ran into the tunnel behind him. ¡°Wait a moment, boy,¡± Pels said, rushing to grab Bremi¡¯s shoulder. ¡°They¡¯ll have guards posted, and there¡¯s no way they won¡¯t see us emerging.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll send someone behind us, too,¡± Bremi whispered. In the distance, he heard a bell tolling, and he figured that was their alarm. Someone had noticed they were gone. ¡°I¡¯d bet they took a glance outside and saw nothing. So all their sentries¡¯re looking inside the facility, now.¡± ¡°You¡¯d bet?¡± ¡°Not looking this far out onto the lava plains, until they get wise of the grates in that hallway¡¯s floor and think to follow us down here.¡± The ground rumbled, and Bremi fell to a crouch. The stone felt warm on his skin, so it was probably unbearably hot to the rest of the crew. ¡°What was that?¡± a sailor asked. ¡°More lava¡¯s coming!¡± Pels said urgently. ¡°Move! Go, now! Get out!¡± They broke into a sprint, following the dimming trail of stone as best as they could. A few officers were faster than Bremi, and they didn¡¯t hold back. They were the first ones to spot the open air and smokey sky, and they yelled back into the cavern. When Bremi arrived at the opening, he understood why the sailors were yelling. The tunnel emerged at the edge of the lava channel. At the moment, the previous glug of lava had faded, leaving it empty, but the break wouldn¡¯t last long. Bremi hopped up onto the shore as high as he could, then looked out into the distance. A surge of glowing, liquid stone roiled towards them like an orange thunderhead. ¡°Run!¡± Bremi yelled, backing away from the hole¡¯s entrance. ¡°Run! There¡¯s another flow coming!¡± The crew was already running. They charged out of the hole and sprinted up onto the shore. Bremi looked for the officers and seamen he knew¡ªMr. Fress, Mr. Larson, Mr. Nudd, the list went on and on¡ªhe even spotted the two Redmarines, the dwarf and the elf, who were always bickering. But not Pels. More and more sailors scrambled up onto the shore. The lava flow drew closer. It bubbled, but it didn¡¯t yet surge. It was slower than a gush of water, but faster than a human could have run. ¡°Get up onto the shore!¡± Bremi yelled. He glanced back at the mining facility, now a distant, angular lump. The miners were marching out onto the spindles, ready to harvest the incoming lava flow. Finally, Pels pushed a young sailor out of the tunnel, then sprinted out himself. He was the last. His boots slipped on the gravel shore, and he tumbled down into the center of the riverbed. Bremi could feel the wave of heat approaching from the lava flow now. All the crew around him were drenched in sweat, their faces red. ¡°Captain!¡± Bremi yelled. ¡°Pels!¡± Pels scrambled to his feet and crawled up the slope. Bremi dropped to his stomach, unperturbed by the hot stones, and reached a hand out. The man clutched his wrist, and Bremi hauled back as hard as he could. He was just as skinny as his sister, and the best he could do was give Pels an extra boost. The lava drew closer, and everyone else had to leap back. A cloud of black dust and ash washed over them, and suddenly, Bremi could only see a few feet in front of his face. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He gave one last burst of strength, and Pels pushed against the slippery stones. He climbed just high enough to avoid the flow of molten rock, then, with a few more seconds of pushing, climbed all the way up to the steep shore. They both ran away from the edge of the riverbed, towards the rest of the crew. Bremi tried not to breathe too deeply, to avoid sucking too much debris into his lungs, but he also needed to catch his breath. He¡¯d heard stories of volcanoes that let off poisonous gasses, but in those stories the victims always dropped dead in a few seconds. No one looked like they were affected by it, other than limiting their sight. But if they couldn¡¯t see far, that meant the ash hid them from Myrrir¡¯s sight as well. Pels stumbled to the center of the crowd, nursing his blistering forearms. His face was red, as if he had a really bad sunburn. ¡°We need to get moving,¡± he said, ¡°before this cloud blows off.¡± ¡°Where?¡± one of the sailors asked (by his voice, Bremi guessed it was Mr. Illis), before a marine shushed him. ¡°We need to get back to the shore and get the Harmony ready to sail,¡± Pels said. ¡°If we¡¯re not here¡ªif we¡¯re safe¡ªVayra should have no reason to come here. We¡¯ll get out of the star system, lie low for a little, and come back when everything has settled down.¡± He pointed to the north. ¡°That way. It¡¯s our best shot to get back to the coast.¡± Nathariel made his preparations as best as he could. First, he set a pot above his campfire and tasked Glade with maintaining the blaze. He wasn¡¯t an alchemist by any stretch, but he figured he would need a rapid Acara-channel-sealing elixir soon. Even a weak one would do the trick. No matter what happened to Vayra, he didn¡¯t need her taking unnecessary spiritual damage. Elixirs were not his specialty, but he could make something serviceable. First, he would need a base, which was always, always distilled, thickened Stream water. With his limited resources, it would take three days to boil down. But there were other preparations. He wasn¡¯t sure how much longer he would be staying on this planet¡ªthere was a high chance he might have to leave with the Mediator¡ªand he didn¡¯t want to leave anything too important behind. Nathariel made Glade continue practicing while he prepared, so he could get the most, best use out of them before he left. But he raided the storage shed, placing the rarest of his trinkets into his void horn. Alchemy tools, books, manuals, and just mementos that might be important. Once he was satisfied with his collection, he marched to his horse corral and set the youngest of the three stallions free. The other two, he and Glade would need. He filled their saddlebags as well, and equipped them for a long journey¡ªwith the lightest bridles and saddles he had. The training dummies, of course, had to stay. There just wasn¡¯t enough room for them to come with him. But they were made of valuable materials, and he didn¡¯t just want to leave starsteel wires rotting in the elements. So, aside from the five dummies that Glade trained with, Nathariel ran through the training course and deconstructed them. He wasn¡¯t an engineer either, not by any stretch, but he knew what a starsteel wire was. He pulled them out of the dummies and wound them in a tight coil around a spool, until he held a glistening silver rod as thick as his arm. It took him a day to gather up the starsteel. At worst, he could sell it for a pretty penny. But he suspected he would have a use for a large amount of starsteel wire before long. He patted his own grafted, repaired flesh. His fingernails glinted off the starsteel netting. When he returned to the hovel¡ªat the end of the day; even an Admiral took time to manage menial tasks¡ªhe found Glade focussing on hand-to-hand combat with the five remaining training dummies. Nathariel spent the next two days cutting a nearby owlwood tree and chopping it into small segments. As he watched Glade train, he sorted them. He wouldn¡¯t have time (nor the skill) to complete the device alone, but he could find the best branches to serve as whichever¡­bones he desired. When he was satisfied that he had a skeleton¡¯s worth of wooden chunks, he shoved them into his void horn as well. After that, the horn began to feel incredibly heavy, and there wasn¡¯t much room for anything else. After a little sorting, he made room for his pending vial of elixir by removing a larger chunk of wood. His hands began to shake as he whittled away at it, forming a semi-circle plate with a slight curve on it¡ªlarge enough to cover the back of Vayra¡¯s hand. To take his mind off the impending fate of one of his disciples¡ª No, a maybe disciple. ¡ªhe watched Glade practice. By now, the boy had grown proficient at working around the training dummies¡¯ patterns, learning them, and striking back with his bare hands. A life in the dreary temples of the Order of Balance could not be underestimated, Nathariel figured, but it wouldn¡¯t push Glade past the limits of his mediocre Spirit Potential. Every so often, Nathariel urged the boy to use his Arcara. He may not be able to strike with it, or use it for magic (not yet), but feeling it flowing through his body would help him tune his body. In other words, it would help him concentrate. On the second day, he stirred korrin-starch into the elixir base, helping it thicken faster. On the third day, he had finished the wooden plate. Wooden shavings sat around his feet. As carefully as he could, he guided flame-soaked Arcara and burned three pebble-sized sockets into the plate¡¯s top. He guided the flame with his mind, ensuring that it didn¡¯t burn any further than desired. On the fourth morning, he gathered the starsteel wires from the five remaining dummies, then packed the spool into one of the horses¡¯ saddlebags. As soon as Glade woke up, he guided the two remaining horses to the front of the hovel. ¡°Sir,¡± Glade said. ¡°I think you are forgetting something.¡± Nathariel raised his eyebrows. ¡°Forgetting?¡± Glade tilted his head towards the shed, where, just visible through the crack between the doors, Nathariel¡¯s spear rested. Nathariel sighed. ¡°I suppose I might need that, huh. It¡¯s been a while¡­¡± Chapter 47: Ashen Forest [Volume 2] By the time Vayra reached the other end of the Night Vale Chambers, she was limping and thoroughly, deeply exhausted. The tiredness crept into every inch of her body and out to the tips of her limbs, until they wanted to hang loose and do nothing. She hadn¡¯t managed to sleep for more than a few hours in the last few days, and everything felt fuzzy. ¡®If the Chambers were easy to get through, they¡¯d be empty of treasures already,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The upper sections already are, sure. Maybe one day you can go a little deeper¡­but for now, just go a little further. The exit is up ahead.¡¯ Vayra limped to the end of the hallway, her leg stinging from a newly-earned gash that she was working on healing. It¡¯d be easier to move the Arcara if she could concentrate, but that was a massive ask at the moment. As soon as the light from her seer-core illuminated a wall of small bricks up ahead, she stopped and reached out, then ran her fingers down it. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s an exit,¡± she whispered. Hopefully, it wouldn¡¯t drop her out at the top of a tall mountain. She pressed her hand against the edge of the brick frame and poured Arcara and mana into it, and an archway of runes lit up. She didn¡¯t have much mana left¡ªit had been a few days since she¡¯d found a little creek with Stream water in it¡ªand even putting mana into the runes around the door left her mouth parched and dry. As soon as the bricks began to immaterialize, she turned her shoulder forwards and pushed out into the open daylight. It wasn¡¯t cloudy except for a dusting of ash on the horizon, and the bright midday light seared her eyes. She nearly staggered backwards into the Chambers, and she would have if the brick door didn¡¯t snap shut as soon as she passed through. She stood¡­halfway up a summit, immersed in a blanket of spindly gray pine trees that crept up the mountain¡¯s flanks. She took a few steps forward and reached for one of the branches, trying to catch her balance. When her fingers brushed the needles, they crumbled into ash, leaving behind just a black branch and a few dark brown pinecones. Vayra grimaced, feeling mildly guilty for disturbing the tree, then took a step down the path. The gateway had deposited her on the edge of one of the first shortest mountains, and the furthest north. Ahead, there were only foothills. A path wound through the forest and across the land. She figured she could follow it, and eventually, it would lead her to the shore, but that wasn¡¯t her destination. The Narvelpeare Facility. That was what the two companymen had called it. She ran to a rocky outcropping. It reached out through the trees, allowing her a clear view of the landscape for miles ahead. First, she looked at the sun to get a bearing, then rubbed her eyes. She was used to the darkness of the underground, and the bright light stung her eyes. ¡®Do you know what the Narvelpeare Facility even looks like?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. Vayra clutched onto the trunk of a tree and leaned as far forward over the valley as she could. ¡°Nope. No idea where it is, either, if that was what you were going to ask.¡± ¡®I was going to suggest that you ask someone who does know.¡¯ ¡°How?¡± ¡®Do you see that smoke in the distance?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®North, northwest.¡¯ Vayra squinted, then looked in the direction Phason¨¦ had mentioned. Over the foothills, a couple of smoke columns rose up from the gray forest. ¡°That could just be a lava flow or burning trees.¡± ¡®They¡¯re arranged too neatly.¡¯ Vayra slapped the side of her head, trying to get her eyes to focus. At least there was no mana or rogue Arcara here for her spiritual vision to get clouded by¡ªshe was certain that she¡¯d be unable to control it. The columns of smoke had been arranged in a grid-like pattern. Too unnatural. ¡°A village?¡± Vayra guessed. ¡®Whatever it is, there will be people there. Ask them for directions.¡¯ The goddess paused for a moment, then added, ¡®And maybe put your feet up and sleep. You¡¯ll need your mind put together when we go to the facility, just in case.¡¯ It was a decent enough plan. Vayra stepped back onto the path, then followed it across the landscape. It wound back and forth down the side of the mountain, then back up across the hills. She followed it as far as she could¡ªuntil it started to curve away from the columns of smoke. She had to tromp through the undergrowth, then. She lowered her head and pushed through the small, black bushes and charred twigs, progressing slowly towards the village. The branches grew thicker further from the path. As she pushed through them, some inevitably snapped back towards her face, but she held her arms up, and they bounced off her bracers. As she got closer, the true scale of the smoke became apparent¡ªand it was small. Barely campfires. Which, the more she thought about it, was probably for the better. Small fires, small village, less eyes on her. They were on the north side of the mountains, now, and she didn¡¯t need news about her travelling around. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. It was safer, then. As she walked, the adrenaline faded from her limbs. She stopped glancing around at every shadow, and her chest felt empty. Without constant danger around every corner, her nerves calmed and her eyes felt heavy¡ªas though they were made of stone or metal. The feeling spread to her forehead, then to her shoulders and thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to lay down. ¡®Just a little further¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Yep,¡± Vayra said, blinking fast to keep herself from falling asleep. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°Yep¡­yeah¡­¡± She bent her legs and leaned against a tree. Just a short break, a short rest, and¡­ ¡®Vayra, you¡¯re not just¡­nope, we¡¯re sleeping here? Oh, you are. Not a great place, but I guess I can¡¯t stop you now¡­¡¯ Vayra woke up in the middle of the night with two silhouettes leaning over her. She gasped and tensed, then leapt to her feet, nearly knocking the short forms over. When she stood up, she was nearly four times their height. They both leapt back in surprise and yelped. Vayra pointed her hand at the sky and absorbed a little bit of starlight, ready to unleash a Starlight Palm if she needed. Her palm began to glow, and she pointed it at the two creatures, illuminating their faces with a pale light. Two halfling children. They had small pointy ears and bushy clouds of brown hair clinging to their head. One, who wore a tattered red coat, scampered back a few steps and hid behind a tree. The other, the younger one, who didn¡¯t wear any sort of coat at all, stayed firmly in place with her arms crossed. Vayra shook her arm out, dispelling the technique before she could launch it at an innocent child. Nervously, she looked up at the sky to try to tell what time it was. Without being able to see a moon, she had no idea. The sky was pitch black, without even a hint of twilight or sunrise, and the stars glimmered fiercely. ¡°Hello, miss!¡± exclaimed the halfling girl who hadn¡¯t hid. ¡°We thought you were dead. Are you dead? Are you a zombie?¡± ¡°Come on, Rono.¡± The other halfling girl reached out from behind the tree trunk and grabbed the first¡¯s blouse, trying to tug her back as well. Judging by their appearance, they were sisters¡ªsame hair, same eyes, same jitter in their voice. Vayra blinked a few times, then rubbed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m¡ªI¡¯m alive. I¡¯m good.¡± She still felt sleepy, and a sleep-debt like the one she¡¯d incurred couldn¡¯t be repaid in a single night. And certainly not without a few good meals. But that could come later. She knelt down and looked at the two little girls. ¡°I¡¯m not going to hurt you. I promise, you¡¯ll be safe with me.¡± ¡°Is that because you¡¯re all starry and glowy?¡± the first halfling, Rono, said. No matter how hard her sister pulled, she didn¡¯t budge. She looked up at Vayra with wide, glowing eyes. ¡°Are you a Goddess?¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled a little, then said, ¡®She sounds like you, just a little.¡¯ Vayra rolled her eyes, both at the halfling and Phason¨¦. ¡°I¡¯m just a traveller,¡± Vayra whispered. She stroked her chin, then saw an opportunity. ¡°Can you tell me which way the Narvelpeare Facility is?¡± ¡°The Narvel¡­Narvel¡­our camp?¡± Rono shook her head, her curly hair flopping back and forth. ¡°No, no, the¡ª¡± Vayra cut herself off and groaned. ¡°A mining station. It¡¯s really big and there would be lots of people there, and¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been out of these woods!¡± Rono chirped. ¡°And there¡¯s nothing big here!¡± Vayra stared pointedly at both of the halflings. ¡°Yes, I can see that.¡± She raised her eyebrows, and looked up at the sky. If it really was the middle of the night, what were two children doing out in the woods alone? ¡°Wait, wait. Where are your parents?¡± ¡°They¡¯re back at our camp!¡± ¡°The Camp?¡± Vayra asked, recalling the resistance camp. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d travelled that far north¡ªor these two halflings were really far from home. ¡®There weren¡¯t any children in the resistance camp, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Rono put her hands on her hips and pouted. ¡°It¡¯s just our camp.¡± Not the resistance, then. Vayra sighed. It was probably where she had seen the smoke rising from earlier. ¡°Can you take me there, please?¡± There would have to be an adult there who could tell her where the Narvelpeare Facility was. ¡°No,¡± Rono asserted. Her sister stopped pulling on her sleeve, and now, the older halfling approached from behind, holding a stick like it was a sword. Rona snapped, ¡°Fora!¡± Rono and Fora (that had to be the older sister¡¯s name) leaned closer to each other and took turns whispering in each other¡¯s ear. Vayra knew they¡¯d stop if she tried to lean closer, so she tried to strain her ears and listen. She barely caught something about sneaking out of camp. ¡°We¡¯ll take you to our camp!¡± Rono proclaimed, and for a moment, Vayra¡¯s spirits rose. ¡°If you help us find the Ignimaids!¡± ¡°I¡ªIgnimaids?¡± Vayra tilted her head. She looked up at the sky, trying to spot the columns of smoke she¡¯d seen earlier. The sky was too dark, and though she could wait until morning, she didn¡¯t want to¡ªnor did she like the idea of letting two children, maybe eight or nine years old, wander about the woods on their own. Bremi had been a pain enough when he was their age, and she was sure she had been the same way. ¡°Ignimaids!¡± Rono grabbed Vayra¡¯s boot and began to pull on it. ¡°The loggers were talking about them! This is the closest we¡¯ll ever get to seeing a real mermaid!¡± The halfling girl stopped for a moment and tilted her head. ¡°You¡¯re not an Ignimaid, are you?¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows, then ran a hand through her orange hair. ¡°Don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll never see anything!¡± Rono stomped her foot down and crossed her arms. ¡°We¡¯ll never do anything fun!¡± Vayra took a deep breath, then put a hand on Rono¡¯s shoulder. At first, she planned on begging the halfling girl to go back to her parents¡ªthus leading Vayra to the camp¡ªbut she couldn¡¯t bring herself to. Besides, Ignimaids? She hadn¡¯t seen one before, either¡­ ¡°Tell you what,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯ll help you find them. But then we have to go to your camp, alright?¡± Rono jumped in a circle, then cheered, ¡°Deal!¡± Chapter 48: Ignimaids [Volume 2] Every step Vayra followed the halfling girls, she cursed herself. She should be taking them back to their camp and getting directions. It was irresponsible, and¡­ ¡®And you want to see them too, don¡¯t you?¡¯ Phason¨¦ finished. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Vayra muttered. That¡¯s why she¡¯d come all this way, wasn¡¯t it? To see the galaxy? That didn¡¯t mean there wasn¡¯t a job to do. She consoled herself by cycling Arcara, directing it to the wounds that needed patching. At least this way, she could make sure she was healed in case she did get in a fight. Her hands began to jitter as she followed the children through the woods. Slowly, she mended her skin. To cycle, she used mana, and it drained her reserves even lower, until her mouth felt like sandpaper and black specks began to whirl in front of her eyes. She stopped herself from pushing her mana too far¡ªshe didn¡¯t need to eat away at her muscles, or lose contact with Phason¨¦. They stopped. She had to pick up both of the halflings and hoist them over a fallen log, which took a few seconds, but the halflings were small and light. Just past the log was a trail. It was only packed mud and a few pebbles, but it was better than trying to push through undergrowth. ¡°Mr. Saara said the Ignimaids were down this trail!¡± Rono chittered, pointing ahead and jumping. She took off and began to run, and Vayra had to admit, she was thankful for the increased pace¡ªshe could now keep up with a brisk walk, instead of having to shuffle along. Rono¡¯s sister, Fora, looked back as she ran. For the first time, she addressed Vayra directly. ¡°They were talking about someone like you.¡± The halfling¡¯s voice sounded a little older than Rono¡¯s, but was otherwise the same. ¡°You are a God-heir. I know it. You can make the stars move.¡± Vayra rubbed her scarf nervously. ¡®You know what to do,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. The Goddess¡¯ voice was growing softer inside her head, but wasn¡¯t too quiet to hear. Vayra stopped walking and knelt down, clasping Fora¡¯s hand. It halted the halfling as well. Rono kept running on ahead, cackling and laughing. Vayra looked Fora straight in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m the Mediator. And I need to stop a God-heir. Before¡ª¡± ¡°There are no Mediators,¡± Fora said. ¡°They¡¯re gone. If the Mediator was still here, it would have helped us.¡± Vayra shut her eyes for a moment and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ¡°I¡¯m trying to help.¡± ¡°The Mediator isn¡¯t real. That¡¯s what the bluecoats always say. They say we should trust the God-heirs and Karmion, now¡­¡± Vayra patted the halfling on the head. ¡°You¡¯ve got a good head. Do you trust the bluecoats?¡± ¡°No¡­I mean, yes! Yes, I do!¡± ¡°I won¡¯t be mad at you,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°You can tell me the truth.¡± ¡°They¡¯re mean to Ma and Da¡­¡± Vayra pressed her lips tight together, and she couldn¡¯t stop her fists from tightening. ¡°I promise, I¡¯m here to help.¡± She looked further ahead. Rono was almost down the path, almost out of sight. ¡°Now, how about we find some Ignimaids and get back to your camp?¡± ¡°Alright¡­¡± To catch up, Vayra hoisted the little halfling up onto her shoulder, then sprinted until she could walk in step with Rono again. Of course, the halflings demanded that she take turns carrying them along the path. While on Vayra¡¯s shoulder, Rono pointed out directions. ¡°To the Lavapots! That¡¯s where the Ignimaids were!¡± They climbed up onto a ridge, then down into a small valley. It had been carved out by countless lava flows, forming an enormous black riverbed that ran all the way across the land, heading northward and away from the mountains. But lava still lingered in the low patches, bubbling and popping and glowing. The forest ended far away from the edge of the river, but the three kept walking until they reached the edge of the Lavapots¡ªa set of pools where molten lava lingered after a large flow. When they reached the slippery, glassy stone of the riverbed, Vayra held her arms out, making sure the two halflings stayed behind her. But it had been a while since the last flow, and all but the largest pools of lava had cooled. They approached the central pool. If it didn¡¯t have a little island of black stone in the center of it, it would have been just large enough to fit the Harmony. When the three of them reached the sharp edges of the pool, Vayra dropped down onto her knees and leaned over the edge. ¡°See anything?¡± she asked, hoping for a response from either of the halflings or Phason¨¦. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡®Nothing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said quickly. Both Rono and Fora stayed silent. Vayra wanted to chalk it up as a ¡®nothing¡¯¡ªshe¡¯d checked, she¡¯d held up her end of the bargain, and they could head back to the camp now. But the halflings crawled to the edge and leaned over, too. They had massive grins on their faces. ¡°Oh, alright¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°We can wait a little.¡± For the next five minutes, they knelt at the edge of the pool, watching the lava swirl around below. Every half-minute or so, Vayra looked south at the mountains, making sure there were no nearby eruptions that would fill the channel with lava and wipe them away. She saw nothing except a distant flash of orange, which probably wouldn¡¯t pose a threat to them at all. If it did, it would be a while before the lava reached them. Once, when she was looking away, she heard a pop and a sizzle. Her head whipped back. A couple specks of lava shot up from the pool. Vayra pulled both of the halflings back, but the specks didn¡¯t get anywhere close. They fell back into the pool like rain, making the glowing amber surface ripple. From the ripples, a shape emerged. It was a koi fish¡¯s tail fin, but made of coal-black pebbles and held together with veins of white-hot magma. Vayra only saw it for a few seconds before it dipped back below the surface. ¡°Did you see that?¡± she whispered to the halflings. ¡°The mermaid tail?¡± ¡°Ignimaid,¡± Rono complained. For a moment, a pulse of concern ran through Vayra¡¯s mind. These could be dangerous. But, according to Pels, mermaids and sirens were different species. Sirens were the ones to look out for; mermaids were harmless. She hoped she could say the same for the Ignimaids. With a splash of lava, the Ignimaid Vayra had seen earlier flopped up onto the center stone of the island. She had a tail, whose scales were made entirely of black coals. Her upper body was mostly human, aside from black fish fins protruding from the side of her head where her ears would have been and a bright red gemstone in the center of her forehead. The Ignimaid hummed a short, pleasant tune, and five more splashed out of the lava. They flopped onto the rocks like cats sunning themselves, and all began to hum a tune. It wasn¡¯t the most melodious¡ªand certainly not a siren¡¯s call¡ªbut it was charming in its own way. Once they were out of the lava, a few of them plucked the ruby gemstones out of their foreheads and held them in their hands. In each of the stones¡¯ centers, a rigid rune glowed bright white. When the gems were removed from their bodies, the veins in their tails didn¡¯t glow as bright. When they socketed the gems back into the center of their head, the light faded from the rune and back into their body. ¡°What are they doing?¡± Vayra asked softly, so only Phason¨¦ would notice. ¡®Those are runestones,¡¯ Phason¨¦ responded. ¡®They probably use the Arcara-enchantment to slip through the lava faster.¡¯ So the stone let them use the power of the rune? Whatever the rune¡¯s effect was? ¡®In theory, yes,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I¡¯m sure it takes a lot of practice. And Ignimaids are a very arcane-attuned race, even if they might not be God-heirs. You couldn¡¯t socket a runestone like that directly into your skin without a lot of effort.¡¯ Vayra rubbed her chin. Maybe not into her skin, but how about the conductive starsteel bracers? ¡®That would be possible.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re so cool!¡± Rono exclaimed, drawing Vayra¡¯s attention back outside. Fora nudged her sister. ¡°No they¡¯re not. They¡¯re made of magma!¡± ¡°Not like that, idiot.¡± Vayra leaned back, and let her mouth slip open. With the Ignimaids climbing up onto the rocks, the splashing magma, and the stars¡­she could almost forget about the smell of sulfur hanging in the air. ¡°They are beautiful,¡± Vayra whispered, letting a smile bend her lips. ¡®Remember, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®This is what you were hunting for. Views like this, without worrying about the Elderworlds and war and Karmion.¡¯ Vayra nodded to herself, her mouth open and admiring the sight of the Ignimaids. A couple of the creatures slipped back into the lava and began to splash about, swimming in complex patterns while humming to each other in un-sonorous tunes. ¡®We climb the ladder of magic so that one day we don¡¯t have to worry, right?¡¯ Vayra nodded again. She leaned back and shut her eyes, and a single tear slipped out from her eyes. It felt like someone was tugging on both sides of her head, pulling her in two directions. Kill Karmion. Restore balance. Do her duty. Or¡­save the crew. The image of her hobbling along at Karmion¡¯s side on a peg-leg, Gods bowing to her, flashed through her mind, and she blinked to make it fade away. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn¡¯t she do both? Vayra stood up, a low growl building in her throat. It wasn¡¯t too late to save the crew either. After a few more minutes of splashing around, the Ignimaids dipped back below the surface of the Lavapot and disappeared. They didn¡¯t come back. ¡°Alright,¡± Vayra told the halfling girls, ¡°we need to get you back to your camp, now.¡± Both of them whined and complained, but the Ignimaids weren¡¯t coming back, and after a few seconds of convincing¡ªand telling them that she felt a tremor in the ground, even if she didn¡¯t really¡ªshe convinced them to lead her back to their camp. They scampered up the shore and to the edge of the forest, then to the trail they arrived on. As they walked, Vayra tried to steel herself as best as she could, to prepare herself for the task. By now, most of the small injuries she¡¯d earned in the Night Vale Chambers had been remedied. She just needed mana, water, and food. Then she¡¯d be ready to go. ¡®Whatever you do, Vayra, please just be safe. The galaxy needs you to complete your training, remember that. You can¡¯t complete your training if you get locked up by Myrrir.¡¯ Chapter 49: Halfling Camp [Volume 2] ¡°Now, we need to be quiet!¡± Rono said, in a voice that wasn¡¯t very quiet. ¡°Ma and Da don¡¯t know we¡¯re gone!¡± They had left the path long ago, and now, they prowled through the undergrowth again. A wall of interwoven black branches blocked the way, and beyond it, Vayra could see the embers of fires¡ªand a few gray tents. The two halflings slipped through the hedge wall easily, but Vayra was much taller. She bent down to try to slip through the hole in the fence, but the branches still resisted her¡ªit felt like they were trying to push her backwards. After a few seconds of trying to fit through gently, she tucked her chin and plowed straight through, not worrying about how many branches broke or how loud it was. When she emerged, she stood up. The camp had been built into a small clearing, and it looked a lot more permanent than she¡¯d expected. Lots of the tents had bases made of stone, and a few even had walls that climbed up a little higher¡ªabout half her height¡ªbefore a round fabric roof began. ¡°You¡¯re being too loud, Ms. Vayra!¡± Rono complained. Vayra looked down at the halfling girl and was about to retort, when a guard (a full-grown halfling, which wasn¡¯t saying much) hobbled over. He didn¡¯t wear any armour, only a dirty green coat that couldn¡¯t close over his large belly. His pistol looked more like a musket in his grip. ¡°Who goes there?¡± the guard demanded, cocking his pistol. He, like the halfling girls, had a head of fluffy brown hair and pointed ears, and he walked with a proud gait. ¡°It¡¯s just us!¡± Rono exclaimed. ¡°And who¡¯s this big folk you¡¯ve brought wanderin¡¯ into our camp, hm?¡± He looked at Vayra specifically. She was twice his height, but he still looked up at her and scowled¡ªan intimidating sort of scowl, or at least she figured it was supposed to be. ¡°Trying to steal away our children? They make nice slaves in your mining camps, hm? Crawl into little tiny crevices and pull out your precious minerals. Maybe if it was a midday luncheon, it could be justified, but not¡ª¡± Vayra knelt down so she was the same height. ¡°I found these two wandering around in the woods, sir. At night. Alone. I came to bring them back safely.¡± She winked at Rono¡ªa promise to not tell anyone about the Ignimaids. ¡°Ah¡­well, then, in that case, we must speak with Mr. and Mrs. Pattin at once!¡± the guard said. He grabbed Rono¡¯s hand, and marched off towards the far side of the camp, where a slightly larger tent overlooked the rest. A wooden porch wrapped around the bottom of the tent, only a step up from the ground. First, the halfling guard hopped up, and he dragged Rono and Fora behind him. As soon as they made it to the top, he bent down and rapped his knuckles against the boards. A few seconds passed. Someone shuffled around inside the tent. A yawn followed, then the tent¡¯s flap swung inward. An older halfling, perhaps thirty or forty years old, poked her head out. As soon her head turned towards the two girls, she stomped out and grabbed both of them by the wrist, then dragged them inside without saying anything. Vayra glanced at the guard, hoping he might tell her more. He didn¡¯t. A couple seconds later, a bit of soft scolding seeped out of the tent¡ªin a foreign language that she couldn¡¯t make out. It was unmistakably scolding, though. As she waited, watching the guard nervously, she shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet. She contemplated stepping inside and saying something, but neither of the older halflings¡ªthe Pattins¡ªsounded aggressive. Just worried. Finally, the flap swung open again and both of the older halflings stepped out. They looked much the same as their daughters, though a little more plump in the faces, and they both had weary eyes. ¡®They did just get woken up,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed out. That was true enough. But Vayra also noted their calloused hands and a few scars here and there, and she figured these halflings weren¡¯t as peaceful or fun-loving as the tales had predicted¡ªthe few tales she had heard about them. Besides, she hadn¡¯t even seen a garden of any sort on the way in, and they were supposed to love gardening. ¡®Product of the times, perhaps? At least little Rono seemed pretty excitable.¡¯ Vayra snorted, then knelt down in front of the Pattins. Mrs. Pattin dismissed the guard with a wave, then crossed her arms and looked at Vayra. She said, ¡°So you¡¯re the one who found them?¡± ¡°I am, miss.¡± Vayra dipped her head respectfully, then said, ¡°I tried to convince them to go home, but they weren¡¯t listening. And I couldn¡¯t carry them both at the same time.¡± ¡°You big folk seem to be gettin¡¯ bigger by the day,¡± said Mr. Pattin. ¡°Ah, not that big, though. Not big enough to lift that load.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mister,¡± Vayra said, dipping her head to him as well. ¡°But I made sure that they were safe. I didn¡¯t let them too close to the Lavapots¡±¡ªthat, of course, was a lie, but two worrying parents didn¡¯t need to know that¡ª¡°and I made sure they came back here safe and sound. Not even a singed hair.¡± ¡°What were you doing in these parts, anyways?¡± Mrs. Pattin asked. ¡°They said they found you sleepin¡¯ in the woods!¡± She approached Vayra, then walked a circle around her. ¡°Oh, you still look tired! You poor thing!¡± With her pinky and thumb, she pinched Vayra¡¯s scarf and lifted it up. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not companyman garb, certainly!¡± Mr. Pattin grumbled, ¡°She¡¯d have stuck to the company trail if she was.¡± ¡°I¡­I came from south of the mountains,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯m looking for the Narvelpeare Facility. Do you know where it is?¡± ¡°You want to go there?¡± Mrs. Pattin exclaimed, then covered her mouth. After a second, she whispered, ¡°It¡¯s not the most cheery place, these days. Some God-heir forced his way in and took over.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve heard. My¡­uh, my brother is there. He works there. I needed to make sure he was alright.¡± That was mostly true, after all. But it wasn¡¯t just her brother. All her friends were there, and they were people worth protecting. Both of the Pattins shared a glance, then they leaned closer and whispered to each other¡ªlike they were an older echo of their mischievous daughters. Only they spoke in a language that Vayra couldn¡¯t make out. Once they were done, Mrs. Pattin walked past Vayra. The halfling woman beckoned Vayra towards a fire pit just below the porch, where some embers still burned. A charred log popped, spewing sparks into the air. ¡°Love, can you bring out the leftovers?¡± Mrs. Pattin asked. ¡°There should be a few rolls in the pantry, and I¡¯m sure¡­miss, uh¡­what¡¯s your name, miss?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Vayra.¡± ¡°Lobie Pattin Niseville,¡± said Mrs. Pattin. She patted a stone near the edge of the firepit, then, with a smile, she sat down on it. Then, she pointed to another stone on the other side of the embers. ¡°Take a seat, dear. Adowise will be back with some food for you.¡± Vayra sat down on the stone on the other side. It would have been the perfect height for a halfling to sit in, but not for her. Her knees almost came up to her chest, and the only way she could get comfortable was by hugging them. As soon as she was settled, she said, ¡°I really should be going¡­you can tell me where Narvelpeare is, right?¡± ¡°I can,¡± Mrs. Pattin said. ¡°Now, Ado and I were talking. He¡¯s been to town, lately, and it sounds like there¡¯s a bounty on someone that looks like you. An orange-haired girl, pointy ears, blue eyes¡­¡± The halfling woman narrowed her eyes. ¡°...red tattoos, too, I suppose. Or are those really feathers beneath your skin?¡± Vayra looked down at her shoulder, where she¡¯d first seen the band of reddish orange feathers starting to push up. They hadn¡¯t yet broken the surface, and she doubted they would until she got more powerful. ¡°They¡¯re, uh, they¡¯re real.¡± ¡°Either way, Rono said you could make your hand glow. Take it you¡¯re a God-heir, then, like the bounty said?¡± They must really have thought Phason¨¦ was prolific¡­ ¡®Not everyone can ask me personally if I¡¯ve been having many children,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Nor are they the most educated people.¡¯ Nor was Vayra. But at least Vayra had a Goddess in her head to tell her what she needed to know. ¡®That too.¡¯ ¡°Are you¡­alright, Vayra?¡± Mrs. Pattin asked. ¡°Or is it common that the big folk stare blankly off into the distance after being asked if they have magic? Vayra shook her head. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m¡ª¡± She could tell Mrs. Pattin that she was the Mediator, but what good would it do? If their daughters were any indicator, they wouldn¡¯t believe her. Vayra pursed her lips, then lied, ¡°Yeah. I am.¡± She let go of her knee and held up a finger. ¡°But I don¡¯t want any trouble. Like I said, I just want to get to the Narvelpeare Facility.¡± ¡°If it means anything, Lobie, I don¡¯t think she can be all bad,¡± said Mr. Pattin. He stepped out of the tent, carrying a wicker basket full of plain buns. He set it down by the embers and said, ¡°Take your pick, miss.¡± Vayra thanked him with a smile, then picked a few buns up out of the basket. They were hard, and a little stale, but it was nothing worth complaining about. ¡°Thank you, Mr. Pattin.¡± ¡°At your service,¡± he said, then sat down next to Mrs. Pattin. ¡°I was just telling her about the bounty poster, love,¡± Mrs. Pattin said. ¡°I¡¯ll be as careful as I can,¡± she said. ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll be out of your hair as soon as I know which way to head.¡± ¡°If you¡¯ve been to the Lavapots, then you know the flow channel.¡± Mrs. Pattin looked over her shoulder, then pointed her finger in a general northeast direction. ¡°That way, ish. Follow the channel as far as you can away from the mountains. It doesn¡¯t branch, and you¡¯ll reach the Narvelpeare Facility soon enough.¡± Vayra stood up, still chewing on her third bun, but both of the halflings raised their arms towards her. ¡°Wait!¡± they exclaimed. Then, alone, Mr. Pattin said, ¡°You helped our daughters, and by extension, the whole camp. You can spend the rest of the night here, resting, right? We¡¯ll make you a bed, and you can sleep the night, at least.¡± Vayra was about to protest, but she knew it would be unwise to resist. ¡®Good. You need to sleep,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡®Half a night won¡¯t kill you¡ªor spell the crew¡¯s doom.¡¯ ¡°And¡­by any chance, do you have Stream water?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯d very much appreciate it if you did.¡± ¡°We should still have some water from the river, for the ponies,¡± said Mr. Pattin. ¡°There should still be a few wisps of that magic water stuff in there. You can do whatever you God-heirs do with it, if you¡¯d like.¡± ¡°Thank you so much.¡± Vayra bowed her head. ¡°Now¡­if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯ll take you up on that offer, and get back to sleep.¡± Chapter 50: Convergence [Volume 2] From the day Wren had left Nathariel¡¯s hovel, she lingered around the Narvelpeare facility. She wandered the lava flats around the facility, keeping a close eye on Myrrir and waiting for his prey to arrive. For a few days, she¡¯d made excuses to herself. Find the Mediator, sure. She could swoop in when all was done and grab the girl. But she was far more curious to see the fight between Myrrir and the chosen champion of nature. To watch Nathariel¡¯s precious apprentice be defeated by a pirate? Oh, it would be glorious. And Wren would win all her competitions. That would be glorious, too. Probably most glorious of all. But then the prisoners had escaped from the facility. That wasn¡¯t good. Not at all. Vayra would have no reason to face Myrrir, and everything would go wrong. Everything! As soon as Wren realized, she raced back to her makeshift camp¡ªa small tent in the woods north of the facility. Any moment, Vayra would arrive, and everything was going wrong! First, Wren took out her frustration on the forest. She used sawdust to Brace her arm, then punched a tree, taking a chunk out of its trunk. It freed more splinters and sawdust, which she gathered up and stuffed into a pouch. The more wood she had to manipulate, the better. But, once her frustration faded, she began to see a little more clearly. As long as Vayra didn¡¯t know the crew had already escaped, everything would work out. All Wren had to do was keep Vayra away from the escaped crew. For that, Wren needed to know where the crew was. So, for the next few hours, Wren scouted the lava flats, hunting for any sign of the escapees. They were hiding and staying out of sight, and they would have been difficult to find had Wren not been searching from the sky, using short bursts of flight to flit around. In a small valley, sheltered from most lines of sight, she found a line of ninety-or-so people, all marching towards the coast. It had to be the Harmony¡¯s crew. She retreated quickly, but stuck nearby, creeping along the lava flats near the edge of the valley. Her smirk returned. The Mediator wouldn¡¯t get close to the crew if Wren had anything to say about it. Vayra woke up early the next morning and set out before any halflings could stop her. She didn¡¯t need to get caught up by any more meals or conversations or little adventures with their children. She walked back towards the Lavapots, recalling the route as best as she could, and stopped in front of the largest lava pool, where the sky was open and clear. As soon as she oriented herself, she began to walk away, continuing northward. At midday, she began to regret not asking the halflings how far it would be. She truly didn¡¯t know how far it would be, and she wasn¡¯t sure how much longer the lava channel would go for. By evening, a trickle of lava began to flow down the channel¡¯s center, and she figured that was the best warning sign she would get. She scampered up onto the high banks of the shore. A few minutes later, the trickle of lava surged and became a river. ¡®Good call,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Now, let¡¯s keep to the trees. The closer we get, the more chance there is that someone spots us.¡¯ Vayra veered towards the forest, which grew at a safe, non-flammable distance from the river of lava. They were tall, skinny trees, with red leaves like she¡¯d find on an autumn aspen, and pitch black trunks. It wasn¡¯t perfect cover¡ªthe trees let the setting sun filter through their stems¡ªbut it would have to do. Another day of camping in the woods. Wonderful¡­ ¡®If you keep walking through the night, you¡¯ll wear yourself out before you arrive,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Please sleep, Vayra.¡¯ ¡°I do plan to,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Just need a good place.¡± She searched through the edge of the woods, and finally, when the sun had dipped all the way behind the horizon, she found a small alcove tucked into the roots of the tree. She slept the entire night without interruption, and as soon as the muddy rays of morning sunlight tried to pierce through ashy clouds, she set off. By midday, she thought she could see something in the distance. A little structure, perhaps. But as she approached, it didn¡¯t seem so little. It was a mound of stone, sharply formed with brutal edges. Spindly arms sprouted from high up on its sloped walls, and they hung out over the river. Workers stood on them, reaching down with nets and scooping through the lava. This had to be it. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Vayra was about to walk deeper into the woods, trying to stay further out of sight, when she heard a soft fluttering noise. Too soft and gentle to be a bird, too fast to be a bat. She glanced around. ¡®Up, Vayra! Look up!¡¯ Phason¨¦ yelped. A shadow descended. ¡°You¡¯re certain she¡¯ll still come?¡± Myrrir demanded of Tye as they walked across the main hall of the facility. ¡°Beyond a doubt,¡± the man replied. ¡°But after that? I am not so certain.¡± Myrrir snorted, then tightened his fist, feeling the new strength of his Commodore body flow through his bicep and shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t imagine it will be a challenge. I don¡¯t have Hammontor here to make a muck of things.¡± He glanced around the Narvelpeare Facility¡¯s main hall. A dingy chamber with a high ceiling and wide walls, it was exactly in the building¡¯s center. Lanterns hung from the rafters, but most of the light poured in from one side, where a gate¡ªwhich spanned nearly the entire four-story height of the hall¡ªlay open, with a causeway beyond. Wagons rumbled up the causeway then paused halfway down the hall, where workers dumped ores and minerals into the backs of the wagons. Myrrir waited until he spotted a team of workers loading a sturdy wagon with of the most rare bits of cargo: a shimmering steel barrel sealed with an Arcara-lock. The barrel was Myrrir¡¯s height, and it was perfectly polished. The entire object, including the lock, was crafted by the finest God-heir smiths the galaxy had to offer. Inside it, Myrrir could hear (and sense) the still-molten river feed scooped up by the workers. But more than just shielding the barrel¡¯s interior from heat, the lock shielded it from internal and external arcane tampering. ¡°I hope you still have one of those set aside,¡± Myrrir said. He glanced over his shoulder. where one of the facility managers walked¡ªa dwarf with shimmering copper pauldrons and a shako cap. ¡°Right this way, Commodore,¡± said the dwarf. They marched to the edge of the hall, then took a rickety wooden staircase up to a long hallway. At the end, they reached a smaller, round room, where aqueducts of enchanted plates funneled magma into a barrel in the center. That was the only light. The entire room was shrouded in a smokey haze, and the low ceiling didn¡¯t help keep the air clear. The central barrel waited in two halves¡ªone half, in an indent in the floor, and the other half suspended by a crane, ready to drop when it was full. At least ten more unfilled barrels lined the walls, guarded by facility workers with muskets. The barrels would¡¯ve been worth a fortune. Two of them could probably buy Myrrir a new ship. If the dwarven manager wanted to keep his life, though, Myrrir would need a barrel free of charge. ¡°Fill this one,¡± Myrrir said, ¡°then shut off the channels. Prepare another barrel for me, then evacuate the facility. The Mediator will be here soon enough.¡± The dwarf dipped his head. ¡°Yes, Commodore.¡± ¡°And hurry!¡± Myrrir snapped. ¡°Unless you want to get caught in the crossfire.¡± Nathariel and Glade sat atop the oldest, strongest horse. It trotted along through a low valley in the mountain, its hooves scritching the gravel or clomping on larger stones. They rode through a pass, according to Nathariel, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as well-defined as other mountain trails Glade had spotted. Moreover, Glade had to trust the old God-heir not to ride into a lava flow, and to find shelter when a volcanic eruption threatened to incinerate them. So far, Nathariel¡¯s senses¡ªwhich supposedly stretched for miles¡ªhadn¡¯t led them wrong, but that didn¡¯t make it any less disconcerting when he abruptly pulled the horse under a ledge and held his hands out, sparks crackling at his fingertips as if somehow he could use his magic to repel magma itself. Maybe he could, but Glade hadn¡¯t seen it in this trip over the mountains or the last. Glade wouldn¡¯t have made it over the mountains on his own, but putting so much faith in a teacher he barely knew also felt wrong. He wanted Elder Eman-Fa back. But that was never happening. Presently, they sheltered under a ledge. Drops of molten stone pattered down like rain, but they had been spewed from a distant eruption, and were mostly cool. While they waited, Glade practiced his basic cycling technique. Nathariel¡¯s first assignment for him was to achieve a full cycle of Arcara, pushing it to every tip and every distant point of his body. Then, he needed to maintain it for an entire day. By Glade¡¯s reckoning, somewhere between twenty-two and twenty-three hours had passed, and he hadn¡¯t broken off the technique. Nathariel provided him with a small flask of Stream water so he could maintain his mana. That also meant that he was purifying mana. When the lava stopped raining down on the other side of the ledge, Nathariel stepped out from their shelter and looked up at the sky. ¡°Good enough. We¡¯ll call that a day. Get back on the horse and we¡¯ll keep moving.¡± Glade cut off his breathing pattern. He had made Arcara, and he had a cycling technique, but now he needed an actual use for the miniscule amounts of energy floating around his body. A combat technique would be nice. But Nathariel hadn¡¯t taught him any yet, and Glade figured it would be disrespectful to ask¡ªand Nathariel had been disrespected enough lately. Silently, Glade climbed up behind Nathariel. Then, the God-heir spurred his horse, and they took off down the pass. The mountains had gotten shorter, and ahead, Glade could see mostly foothills. He asked, ¡°Do you know where we are heading?¡± ¡°I have an idea,¡± Nathariel responded. ¡°Just need to find that north-leading lava channel, and we¡¯ll have our course set for us.¡± He glanced over his shoulder, and (probably after seeing Glade¡¯s glum expression) said, ¡°You want an actual use for your Arcara, yeah?¡± ¡°I would appreciate it, sir.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t help you with that.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t a God-heir. You just have a Fair Spirit, and it isn¡¯t aligned with an element or domain of control. Until you¡¯ve established your domain, I can¡¯t teach you a combat technique.¡± ¡°Excuse me for asking, please, but how do I establish a domain?¡± ¡°Magic comes with an understanding of the universe. Not a scientific understanding, but intuitive understanding, an acceptance in your heart. When you align with your domain, you will know.¡± Nathariel reached back and tapped the pommel of Glade¡¯s sword. ¡°You¡¯re good with that sword, boy, and I¡¯d recommend you start there. The sword is a domain for many, many people.¡± Nathariel turned forwards again, then snapped the horse¡¯s reins. It began to trot faster. ¡°We¡¯ll find Vayra soon. For now, I¡¯d suggest you rest and prepare yourself for battle.¡± Chapter 51: Break and Enter [Volume 2] Vayra looked up just in time to see the bounty hunter descending. The mothfolk woman¡¯s wings were spread, like a parachute, and she flung a foot-long shard of wood at Vayra. Scrambling back, Vayra fell onto her hands. The shard smashed into the ground between her feet and shattered into splinters. Vayra rolled over and pushed herself up to her feet. Another shard of wood smashed into the ground behind her. The splinters rose up from the explosion, drawn into the air by wisps of Wren¡¯s Arcara, then formed into a whip. It cracked into the ground, again narrowly missing her ankles. She felt wind rush past her back¡ªthe whip slashing back the other direction. Wren landed with a heavy thud right where Vayra had been standing. Vayra sprinted away. It didn¡¯t matter which direction; she just had to leave! She glanced back as she ran, and she tried to judge Wren¡¯s spirit. Was it even possible to fight her? Vayra used her spiritual sight, slipping through Wren¡¯s eyes and through her Arcara channels¡ªwhich felt surprisingly weak and un-God-heir-like¡ªand down to her core. It was stronger than Vayra¡¯s, that much was certain. ¡®She¡¯s a Lieutenant,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Third Lieutenant, the lowest of them all.¡¯ Vayra kept running, and she tried to dispel her spiritual sight as she did. It was dark and clumsy, and she tripped over a log. A sawdust whip snapped against her arm, stinging and drawing blood. She stumbled back up to her feet and kept sprinting. As she ran, she asked Phason¨¦, ¡°Chances of beating her?¡± ¡®Better than against Myrrir, but not high.¡¯ Vayra knew better than to turn and fight. It would be a waste of mana, and that was the last thing she needed. As Vayra ran, Wren blasted the ground behind and beside her with more and more shards of wood. Vayra felt her course shifting slowly and compulsively as she tried to evade Wren. She turned. Soon, she would be out of the woods. She pushed her body as hard as she could, trying to go as fast as possible without using a Bracing technique. A shard sliced through her calf, and her hands stung from tripping and tumbling. But she wouldn¡¯t give Wren what she wanted¡ªeither to capture Vayra, or to deplete Vayra¡¯s mana. But the longer this went on, the more Vayra risked being seen by Myrrir or his sentries. She had hoped to find a way to sneak into the facility, but that wouldn¡¯t work with Wren on her tail. Speed and surprise would be her only allies. And whether she had surprise on her side was debatable. In an instant, she made her decision: she would make a break for the facility. She only had to cross a quarter-mile of open plains. Lava had just flowed down from the mountains, filling the channel and tossing a gray haze up into the air. She had to hope it would be enough to hide her from sight. She emerged from the woods and onto a plain of grayish-brown flame-scoured stone. The facility loomed ahead of her. Now, it looked like an angular mountain. Leaping over stones and bounding over small cracks in the rock, Vayra approached the facility. Every second step, she looked back, trying to glimpse Wren. The mothfolk flapped her wings, giving herself extra bursts of speed, which Vayra couldn¡¯t match without wasting mana. Instead, she ducked, dodged, and weaved away from the wooden shards that snapped at the ground behind her. Twice, Wren swooped down and tried to slash Vayra with the axehead at the tip of her short rifle. Wren couldn¡¯t kill her, but that wouldn¡¯t stop her from capturing Vayra. If that was truly her goal. So Vayra kept sprinting. When she bounded over an especially large boulder, she spotted her entrance into the facility¡ªa grate nestled into an alcove, on the lava-channel-facing side of the facility. Worse, the channel still bubbled and simmered, and lava still flowed northwards. It would take a little bit of an enhanced leap. There was no other choice but to use mana. She could make it with the help of a winch hanging over the river. She summoned a seer-core, then immediately drew it into her body and pushed the energy down to her legs. With a gasp, she flung herself off the edge of the riverbank, then grabbed onto the winch. Wren swooped towards her, but Vayra shifted her weight and kicked with her legs, and the rope shifted out of the way. It swung back towards the edge of the facility, and she released it just in time. With her Braced legs, Vayra kicked the grate. It fell out of its frame and she tumbled into the facility¡¯s bowels. She rolled along a rocky floor. This was a cave beneath the facility. From one direction, lava slowly bubbled up, and from the other, she only saw flickering lantern-light. The lava must have filled these caves when it poured down the channel. She rose to her feet, then dispelled the Bracing so it didn¡¯t continue to eat up her mana. Looking back, she searched for Wren, but beyond the grate, she saw nothing of the mothfolk hunter. Inside the tunnel¡­also nothing. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡®I don¡¯t sense her,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Or, I don¡¯t sense any nearby magical dangers.¡¯ Chances were, Wren had given up¡ªfor the moment. It didn¡¯t sound like she was on the best terms with Myrrir, and this was firmly his territory. ¡°Do you sense anything else?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®A powerful spirit¡ªcertainly, it¡¯s Myrrir. But I can¡¯t tell exactly how close he is. I can tell you there are two pirate guards much closer.¡¯ ¡°You said no dangers¡­¡± ¡®Myrrir isn¡¯t nearby, and the pirates don¡¯t have magic. You should have been more specific.¡¯ Vayra inhaled sharply and ran back to the wall. She pressed her back against it, feeling the smooth curve of the cave press into her spine. Then, as carefully as she could, she crept down the corridor¡ªtowards the lantern-light. When she rounded a corner, she caught her breath. Two shadows shifted in her peripheral vision. Slinking back the way she came, she drew her pistol and cocked it. It¡¯d be loud, but between the roar and pop of the lava, and the general clamour of the facility above¡ªcreaking wood and groaning metal¡ªshe doubted anyone outside of the immediate vicinity would hear. She glanced out from cover again. Two pirate guards stood in the hallway, holding a lantern between them. One, a dirty human with an eyepatch and a musket, grumbled, ¡°Did you hear that? Sounded like one of the grates fell in.¡± Vayra sighed. Of course. Of course they heard it. ¡®What was that about them not hearing the pistolshot?¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. ¡°The rest of the facility won¡¯t hear it,¡± Vayra hissed, keeping her voice as low as she could. ¡°Myrrir will have our heads if we don¡¯t at least take a peek,¡± said the other pirate, an oceanfolk man with jellyfish-like stingers reaching out the back of his head. He held the lantern, but kept his hand on a small hatchet at his hip. ¡°Come on.¡± Vayra took another step back, then pointed her pistol. As soon as they rounded the corner¡­ The man with the musket rounded the corner first. She fired her pistol, and so close to him, it was impossible to miss. The shot tore into his chest, and he fell backwards. The other man dropped his lantern and drew his hatchet. Vayra dodged a swipe, then stomped on the shattered remains of the candle, putting out the flames. Before the man could swing again, she blasted a Starlight Palm into his chin, flinging him into the roof. When he hit the ground again, he didn¡¯t stir. She shook her hand. Too much wasted mana, even if it was just a Starlight Palm. ¡®Just keep moving,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Can you sense the crew?¡± Vayra asked, keeping her voice low. ¡®I can¡¯t tell the difference between Myrrir¡¯s men and ours. And I don¡¯t know how many he brought. Plus, our crew poses no danger to us. My senses aren¡¯t much good for sensing that.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then looked down the cave ahead. Even though she¡¯d snuffed the lantern, she could see a faint light glowing down the bend in the cave. There was something up ahead. Walking slowly, with her arms stretched out in front of her, Vayra approached the light. She tried to keep her footsteps as soft as possible, in case another guard was listening. The cave sloped upwards, and soon, she found the first source of light¡ªanother grate in the ceiling above. It was sealed, and she couldn¡¯t reach it. Perhaps if she Braced her legs and launched herself up with a jump, she could blast through it, but that wouldn¡¯t be necessary. There was a line of grates in the ceiling, and at the end of the tunnel, she spotted a ladder leading upwards. She ran to the ladder. Before climbing, however, she stopped and crouched down to reload her pistol. ¡®You should have done that earlier,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Should¡¯ve reminded me,¡± Vayra returned. ¡°Got the scythe in-hand?¡± ¡®Right here with me.¡¯ ¡°Then let¡¯s go,¡± Vayra said, cocking the pistol. She climbed up the ladder until she could just see into the hallway above. She glanced back and forth¡ªit was a gloomy hallway, with small chambers indented into the walls on either side. As soon as she took another step up, she heard footsteps pounding down the right side of the hallway. She pointed her pistol. A door creaked open, and another pirate sprinted down the hall, saber in hand. ¡°You there!¡± he yelled. ¡°Stop and surrender!¡± Vayra kept her pistol down, hidden from his sight by the grate, until the man drew closer¡ªnot within the reach of his saber, but close enough that she couldn¡¯t miss. She raised the pistol and fired, blasting him in the shoulder and sending him tumbling to the ground. She leapt up the final rungs of the ladder and clubbed the pirate in the head with the pistol until he fell still. After that, the hallway was silent. She glanced around, looking at the chambers and trying to peer through their walls. They looked like they had been used to store something, but not quite prison cells. Clearly, they were empty. But it was a big facility, and the Harmony¡¯s crew could be anywhere. Stepping softly, she approached the end of the hallway, where the lone pirate had come from. A pair of heavy wooden doors blocked the view beyond, but they were open a crack. If she just stepped through, perhaps she could find a way up into the rest of the facility. She just had to go through the doors, and keep explor¡ª ¡®Vayra, something¡¯s coming,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®From the other direction.¡¯ Steadily, she increased her pace, until she reached the doors. She reached out, trying to push them open further, but before she could push them open, a tendril of dark dust swirled along the floor and gripped the door. The door slammed shut, nearly crushing her fingers. A board clunked into place on the other side, locking it. She didn¡¯t need to use her spiritual sight to recognize arcane-manipulated gunpowder. Spinning around, she held out her hand. At any moment, she could make it fall limp and grant Phason¨¦ control. Myrrir walked down the hallway, his jade sword drawn and held in-hand. A faint smile crept onto his lip. ¡°It took you long enough.¡± Chapter 52: Punching Up [Volume 2] Vayra pressed her lips together, then took a step back. Myrrir wasn¡¯t supposed to be expecting her this early. There was no time to ask him about it. If she didn¡¯t want to fight him, she had to run. The doors behind her were wood, and just wood. ¡°Phason¨¦! Scythe!¡± she hissed, then relinquished control of her hand. Starlight bled out of her scarf and wrapped around her hand, and the scythe began to form. The white glow flowed upwards and formed the shaft. But if she turned around, he¡¯d guess her plan right away. She stood still, as if she was ready to fight him, as the haft of the scythe swirled into existence. Myrrir walked forwards slowly, spinning his sword beside him. His other hand was coated in a thick layer of gunpowder. ¡°Mastered the Mediator Form yet?¡± Vayra willed the scythe to generate faster. The shaft had finished, and the blade began to form. She kept silent, but bent her knees, ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a ¡®no¡¯,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Master, huh? Far cry from Commodore.¡± ¡°The Mediator is built to punch up.¡± Myrrir scoffed. ¡°Not without a full arsenal.¡± She¡¯d stalled long enough. The moment the scythe¡¯s tip formed, she whirled around and hacked through the plank of wood keeping the door locked. The scythe cut through it in an instant, its white-hot blade setting the rest of the door ablaze. She kicked the gate open and sprinted into the hallway beyond. A tendril of gunpowder reached up from the floor, snapping at her legs, but she swatted it away. It exploded in the heat of the scythe¡¯s blade, flinging her down the corridor. She landed on her stomach, right in front of a set of stone stairs. In a fair race, Myrrir¡¯s enhanced body would be faster. But she was a street rat, a Discarded. She was used to running. Dispelling the scythe to conserve mana, she leapt up onto the railing, then sprung up the gap in the middle of the stairwell to the next flight, which ran in the opposite direction. She leapt up the stairwell as fast as she could, springing off railings and spinning around bannisters. A tendril of gunpowder chased her up as far and as fast as it could, but even Myrrir had a limit to his reach. She arrived at a landing halfway up the stairwell, then turned and pushed open the door on the other side, which led away and into a large hall. She figured that it had once been a staging point for wagons and other cargo transports, and there was a massive, open gate with a causeway beyond. She could escape back onto the open plains outside the facility if she wanted, but then it would be a foot race. ¡®Myrrir would win,¡¯ Phason¨¦ unhelpfully informed. ¡°I could Brace my legs,¡± Vayra suggested. ¡®We¡¯d run out of mana, and he would only be spending whispers to keep his body fueled,¡¯ Phason¨¦ countered. ¡°We need to find the crew, then hide,¡± Vayra said, running to the center of the hall and looking around. The facility, aside from pirates, seemed abandoned. ¡°Once we find them, we¡¯ll sneak out¡ª¡± The door she had emerged from blasted open again¡ªit swung open so fast and hard it shattered¡ªand Myrrir emerged. He twirled his sword. ¡°There¡¯s nowhere to run.¡± Vayra glanced around, searching for a way out of the hall. On all the walls, small staircases led up to platforms with hallways leading to more distant parts of the facility. She sprinted towards the nearest stairway, but before she could reach it, a wisp of gunpowder smashed through it, shattering the stairs. She Braced her legs and leapt up to the undamaged top of the stairs, but before she could run down the hallway, Myrrir pounced. In a few bounds, he reached the platform, and he swung his sword so hard and fast it smashed straight through the boards where Vayra had been standing. His gunpowder-coated fist raced towards her chest, and she shielded her robes with Starlight¡ªit was her strongest shield, but it felt like it was just enough to prevent the blow from caving in her chest. She tumbled back to the floor of the main hall, chest aching. Hammontor hadn¡¯t been able to punch that hard, and he¡¯d been a Commodore. ¡®And he didn¡¯t have as impressive of a foundation as the favoured son of a God,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®With all the resources of Nilsenir at his disposal.¡¯ Vayra rolled over and jumped back to her feet. Myrrir jumped down from the platform and swung his sword at her again, but she blasted its blade with a Starlight Palm, deflecting it just enough that it didn¡¯t slash her gut open. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°You may be the Mediator,¡± Myrrir snarled. ¡°but without the blessings of the Stream, you¡¯re nothing. You¡¯ve worked for nothing. Where¡¯s your skill?¡± Vayra ducked under another swipe of his sword then sprinted towards another set of stairs¡ªones that hadn¡¯t been demolished yet. As soon as she set a foot on them, a large column of gunpowder raced out of Myrrir¡¯s powder horn and blasted through the staircase. He made an uppercut motion with his hand, and the column swirled upwards, smashing through the platform it connected to. Vayra jumped away before the rubble crushed her, but not in time to avoid another smaller tendril of gunpowder. Its tip was shaped like a fist. It struck her in the gut, flinging her to the other side of the hall. Though it sucked the wind out of her lungs, she forced herself to gulp in a breath and shield her back¡ªand just in time. She smashed through a waiting, horseless wagon, then collided with the wall behind her. Cracks spread from the impact point, and another platform collapsed above her. Groaning, she gulped in a few more breaths, trying to regain a quick cycling pattern. She had to escape, and there was only one staircase left. Scythe, she thought, too winded to utter words. Phason¨¦ must have gotten the thought, because when Vayra let her hand fall limp, the scythe began to emerge. With the growing haft, she swatted away another column of gunpowder. Myrrir approached, spinning his sword in a disarming motion. She tried to deflect the blow with the shaft of her scythe, but the strike was too hard and fast, and it pushed her back. He seemed intent on attacking her this time, not the staircase, and she took her opportunity. As her scythe¡¯s blade formed, she vaulted up over the railing, pushing herself as high as she could jump with her own legs, then took the rest of the flight three steps at a time. Before Myrrir could destroy the platform, she dove into the hallway it led to, then sprinted along it. She heard a thud, then fast footsteps. Myrrir was right behind her. She braced her legs, pushing herself to run faster, until she arrived in a circular room with a low roof. Black smoke clouded the edges, and channels of glowing orange magma fed towards a vat in the room¡¯s center¡ªwhich had been temporarily raised, stopping the lava from flowing any further. She leapt over the vat, searching for a way out of the room, but she saw none. When she reached the far wall, Myrrir marched in, holding his sword ahead of himself. In an instant, she understood why he hadn¡¯t destroyed the last stairwell. ¡°You wanted me here.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be here otherwise.¡± She clutched the scythe with both hands. ¡°Where¡¯s the crew?¡± ¡°Gone.¡± Vayra¡¯s grip tightened¡ªwith her left hand, at least, the hand she could control. ¡°You¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, they¡¯re still alive,¡± Myrrir taunted. He remained in the doorway, unmoving. ¡°I don¡¯t know where they escaped to, but they aren¡¯t my quest.¡± Vayra scowled. Escaped? She¡­she had¡ª ¡®He¡¯s trying to rile you up,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Stay focussed. Get out of his sight then hide. Veil your core, and don¡¯t let him find you.¡¯ Vayra took a deep breath, then steadied herself. Stepping forward, she inched towards the door. The only way out. ¡°Was Wren working for you?¡± ¡°Not knowingly.¡± Myrrir refused to match her step. There¡¯d be no circling around today. ¡°She did a wonderful job of funnelling you here, though, and it was all on her own, spiteful volition. She thought herself a wildcard rather than a pawn.¡± ¡°Where are they?¡± Vayra growled, taking another step closer. ¡°No lies.¡± She couldn¡¯t wait all day¡ªshe would run out of mana sooner than he would, and the scythe was already eating through it. ¡°I wasn¡¯t lying. You were close.¡± He tilted his head downwards, in the general direction of the tunnel she had entered from. ¡°They were here and now they aren¡¯t, and I don¡¯t care where they went.¡± With a shout, Vayra leapt forwards. She hacked at his head with her scythe. He blocked the swipe with ease, and then the next, and the next, and the next. When the pattern finished, she had made no progress. Myrrir¡¯s sword remained unharmed, its green edge glowing faintly. ¡°Are you finished?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡ª¡± He slashed upwards. Vayra stepped back, evading the strike, but another followed. Her back pressed against the shimmering steel vat in the center of the room. She Braced her arms, giving them a little extra strength, before Myrrir¡¯s next slash arrived. The blade was aimed for her neck, to force her into submission, but Vayra blocked it with the shaft of her scythe and, with her strengthened arms, resisted. ¡°I¡¯m not going with you. I¡¯m not going to Karmion unless it¡¯s to kill him!¡± ¡°My father will present you to Karmion,¡± Myrrir snarled, shifting his stance. ¡°And I will have his love.¡± Vayra kept pushing until Myrrir relented. He stepped back, letting her stumble, then grabbed her arm. His grip was unbreakable, and the Arcara swirling through his fingers flowed with such strength that, on contact, it disrupted her own channels. The Bracing fled from her arms, starlight dimming. She barely held onto the scythe as Myrrir hauled her up the stairs. She thrashed and kicked, tried to hack his arm off with the scythe, or break his grip with sheer determination. None of it worked. A Master stood no chance against a Commodore¡­ ¡®You are more than brute strength, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Don¡¯t let him take you again.¡¯ At Phason¨¦¡¯s words, an idea flashed through Vayra¡¯s mind. She let herself fall limp, then, the moment Myrrir tried to throw her into the empty vat, releasing his grip, she kicked off the ledge. The kick propelled her all the way across the vat. She tumbled to the floor on the other side. Myrrir sliced through the rope suspending the upper half of the vat, but it was too late. Vayra was clear, and the two halves of the container smashed together with a hollow clang. She pushed herself up and sprinted to the doorway, where now, no one stood in her way. Chapter 53: Veil [Volume 2] Vayra ran down the hallway and back to the main hall. She leapt down to the main floor, then sprinted back to the staircase, which continued upwards through the Facility. She dispelled the scythe for ease of climbing, then bounded up the stairs as fast as she could, springing off railings and hauling herself over the banisters. As she ran, she cycled her Arcara, both to cool and cleanse her channels, and to begin healing the damage to her body. In the tight corridors and staircases, she was faster and more nimble than Myrrir. His pounding footsteps faded into echoes. ¡®Vayra, hide!¡¯ Phason¨¦ stressed, her voice quivering. At the next landing, she reached a doorway. She pushed the wooden sheet open and made sure it shut gently behind her with a gentle tug. ¡®Stop cycling. Veil yourself to his spiritual senses!¡¯ Vayra held her breath and crept down the hallway as far as she could. She glanced back and whispered, ¡°He can track me with the tingle in his neck, right?¡± ¡®Not if you¡¯re making a conscious effort to hide your spirit. You¡¯re still weaker than him, and his senses are far from fine-tuned, not like an Admiral¡¯s. The buzz he feels because of you will be greatly diminished.¡¯ Vayra took small breaths to restrain her Arcara, and she used her mind to keep it close to her core, locked in place. The strength faded from her limbs, but it would let her hide from Myrrir. When she tried to run without breathing properly, everything began to cramp. She lowered her pace to a trot, which made her sides ache less, until she reached the end of the hallway. Another door waited in front of her, and she pushed it open. Carefully, she slipped into the room beyond, then let the door slip shut behind her. ¡®In Myrrir¡¯s mind, we¡¯ll have just dropped off the map,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®And if he didn¡¯t see where we went¡­¡¯ ¡°He won¡¯t find us?¡± Vayra whispered. The room at the end of the hallway was a long rectangular chamber with outward sloping walls, and a few windows embedded between them. The floor was littered with tables and mapping equipment, as well as charts and records. All along the walls were¡­control panels, with lines of runes carved on them. The runes snaked down into the walls and disappeared into the facility. It was a control room. ¡®I¡­I can¡¯t guarantee that he won¡¯t find us.¡¯ Vayra walked back to the wall beside the door, then pressed her back against it. If Myrrir stepped into the room, it would be the last place he saw. She whispered, ¡°How far away is he?¡± ¡®He¡¯s going higher¡­to the very top of the facility,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I just sense a looming twitch. The danger is fading, or at least, that¡¯s how it feels¡­¡¯ Vayra kept her lips together and didn¡¯t dare to move. But staying so tense, her arms began to twitch. ¡°Phas, how much mana do we have?¡± ¡®Half left.¡¯ Vayra nodded. Hopefully, she wouldn¡¯t need anymore. If she waited a few more hours, evading Myrrir, he might grow complacent. She just needed a chance to escape¡ªand enough time to sprint across the lava flats to the woods. She didn¡¯t know how much time passed. It could have been seconds or minutes. She couldn¡¯t let her mind rest for a moment, lest her Arcara start moving again. And worse, she kept her back up against the wall and her jaw clenched. Her muscles began to ache, and her calves started to cramp. ¡®He¡¯s coming down,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®Getting closer¡­closer¡­¡¯ Vayra raised her arms. She let one hand hover over her scarf, ready to accept starlight into it and remake her scythe as fast as she could. ¡®And¡­he passed us¡­¡¯ Vayra almost let out a sigh, but she caught herself. It would have made her Arcara move too much. She whispered, ¡°Do you think Myrrir was telling the truth? That the crew is already gone?¡± ¡®He certainly sounded sincere. But he¡¯s a pirate.¡¯ Vayra wrapped her hands together and began to fidget with her own fingers. Waiting was the worst part. Instead of fidgeting, she bent down and reloaded her pistol. ¡°Should we keep looking, then?¡± ¡®He¡¯s onto you. Your best bet is to get out and find the crew later. Otherwise we¡¯ll all die. Or¡­you¡¯ll be captured, and they¡¯ll probably die anyway.¡¯ Vayra didn¡¯t want to agree, but she had to. Her mind ran around, trying to come up with a plan. She could run away for a few days and leave, then come back in a little while to search, or she could¡ª ¡®He¡¯s going down,¡¯ Phason¨¦ interrupted her thoughts, seemingly purposefully. ¡®Still going down, and¡ªno, no he stopped. It feels like there are some pirates with him.¡¯ Vayra rolled her lips inward. Her hands began to tremble, and something rose up from her feet, into her stomach¡ªa slight wisp of Arcara that had gotten loose, combined with a surge of hopelessness. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He might have noticed that. She glanced around the control room, hunting for a window she could break. She ran to the nearest and tapped it with her fist. The amber glass was thick, and she doubted she could break it with her bare hands. Even if she could, fitting through the window would be a tight squeeze. Jumping down into the lava river below would be certain death¡ªif not for her, then for Phason¨¦. ¡®They¡¯ve reached the landing¡­Myrrir¡¯s coming down the hallway outside.¡¯ Vayra raised her fists and loosened her left hand¡ªas much as she could. She had to do this. She¡¯d beaten Myrrir once before, and she could do it again. If she had the Mediator Form, that was¡­ Last time, the Mediator Form had been triggered by a desire to protect people. Shouldn¡¯t it be the same, this time? ¡®Or that wasn¡¯t truly the desire,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Your strength is tied to the universe, and your acceptance of its truths. The intent of your Paths, the importance of your duty.¡¯ The Goddess paused, then said, ¡®You did it once. But you haven¡¯t exactly practiced with it, and it¡¯s not reliable enough to build a plan on.¡¯ ¡°Then we need to fight him the old-fashioned way.¡± Vayra held out her hand. ¡°He¡¯ll find us.¡± She was tempted to lean around the doorframe, to see how close he was, but then she¡¯d lose any inkling of surprise. She lowered her voice, whispering as quietly as she could: ¡°Can I have a countdown, Phas? To when you think he¡¯ll arrive?¡± ¡®Ten seconds. He left the pirates at the end of the hall.¡¯ Vayra heard heavy bootsteps and clinking armour. ¡®Five.¡¯ Vayra raised her arms back, then began to concentrate on the stars in the scarf. She¡¯d need as many as she could get. ¡®Three, two¡­¡¯ The Goddess¡¯ voice rose and began to tremor. ¡®Now!¡¯ Vayra gave Phason¨¦ control of her right hand, and the scythe emerged out of her hand. The ghostly white shaft swirled into existence, and she swung it down as hard as she could¡ªeven if the blade hadn¡¯t emerged yet. The blow struck Myrrir in the shoulder as soon as he stepped into the room. Vayra followed up with a Starlight Palm, trying to fling him across the room. It pushed him a few feet back, but enough that she could draw her pistol and fire. He shielded his chest¡ªhis brassy armour¡ªwith gunpowder, and the shot glanced off. She tossed the pistol aside before he could use it against her, then took a two handed grip on her scythe. The blade had emerged all the way. As Myrrir staggered, she attacked, Bracing her arms to feed more power into her strikes. With Myrrir on the back foot, his defenses were more frantic. He moved his sword faster, and it didn¡¯t always feel like he anticipated her attacks. Vayra kept pressing. This could be the moment. If she could just¡­break though! Her scythe banged against his sword, releasing sizzling pops and swells of sparks. He deflected the scythe¡¯s head side to side, parrying each blow. She pushed him back towards a control panel, where a line of half-active runes still glowed faintly. Myrrir angled his sword, then stepped out of the way, and instead of pushing her to the side, he let her scythe slip off into the control panel. As soon as the weapon sunk into the wood, he hammered it all the way in with a heavy swipe to the back of the haft. He kept his blade down, holding her weapon in place. Then he looked her in the eyes. ¡°There is no other way to claim my Godhood. You will come with me.¡± Vayra ripped her scythe back towards herself, tearing a gash of charred wood across the control panel. It severed the line of runes, and the entire panel went dark. ¡°I¡¯d rather not be Karmion¡¯s prisoner. Doesn¡¯t sound like a fun time.¡± She swiped at Myrrir¡¯s neck, but now, he¡¯d taken a wide stance, and he held his sword up and ready. With a twirl of the pale green blade, he pushed her scythe into the floor, then slammed it into another rune-covered control panel. She ripped it free as soon as she could, but his sword had latched onto the crook of her scythe, and it wasn¡¯t letting go of the bind. ¡°You could come willingly!¡± he yelled, then pushed her scythe down to the ground. It cut a glowing hot gash in the floor, and she had to Brace her legs to stop herself from sliding backwards any further. ¡®Vayra, we need to run!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡®The Mediator Form isn¡¯t coming! Get out of here!¡¯ I¡¯m trying! Vayra thought¡ªand she was. She¡¯d learned well enough with the dummies that if she tried to back away without an opening, she¡¯d just get hit. But Myrrir¡¯s sword had wedged tight up against the scythe¡¯s head, and he wasn¡¯t releasing her any time soon. She looked up and scowled. ¡°I¡¯m not coming with you!¡± ¡°I will not fail my father again,¡± said Myrrir. He heaved her scythe downwards with a heavy push, until the head hooked into the stone floor. Myrrir angled his sword, then ripped it free and swept up towards her hand. ¡®Watch out!¡¯ Phason¨¦ yelped. ¡°Let go!¡± Vayra shouted. They both released their grips on the ghostly weapon and stepped back, leaving the scythe embedded in the ground. Myrrir followed through with his slash, hacking at Vayra¡¯s unprotected hand. She pulled back, but the tip of his sword swished past her fingers. She felt a jolt up her arm, then a crunch. Half her right hand¡ªher pinky and ring finger¡ªwere¡­gone. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, and she gasped, unable to put a sound to the sensation. Like her hand was a sheet of parchment, and it just had a corner torn off. ¡®Vayra!¡¯ Phason¨¦ screamed, a mixture of pain and warning. Myrrir swung again, his sword poised to land alongside her neck and force her to surrender. Vayra prepared a Starlight Palm in her injured hand, trying to reach out and deflect the blade with a pulse of energy. Before she could release the technique, Myrrir changed his slash¡¯s course, and it was too late to do anything. He brought the blade down on her right arm, and with a heavy, powerful swipe, sliced through muscle and bone alike. She stumbled backwards, but there was nothing to fall back on except a stump, leaking clear blood onto the floor. She screamed, though she could barely hear her own voice. Inside her head, Phason¨¦¡¯s voice rang out, shouting and yelling and it all sounded like distant, unintelligible bells trying to warn her of something. Myrrir loomed overhead. He raised his sword again. With her one arm, Vayra tried to roll herself, but her hand slipped in a pool of her own blood. Myrrir¡¯s sword fell again, and another pain rolled through her body¡ªthis time, at her right leg. When she looked down and saw nothing, a black veil fell over her eyes, and she passed out. Chapter 54 - Domain [Volume 2] Wren tried to watch the duel as best she could. Then the runic lines shut off, and the residual mana stopped flowing through them. The Arcara enchantments in the facility¡¯s shielded plates shut off, exposing the entire structure to the whims of the lava river. Already, molten waves began to surge up against the structure¡¯s base, eating away at the bricks and metal. It distracted Wren for a moment, and she moved to the other side of the facility, so she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about such distractions¡ªat least, for a little while longer. But, as she fluttered from a cargo crane to a rampart near the control room (where she¡¯d seen a few flashes of white light earlier), a powerful tingle began to build in the back of her neck. Someone was coming. Maybe earlier, it had been masked by the strength of Myrrir and Vayra¡¯s presences, but now? It was undeniably someone stronger. Nathariel. Unless another powerful God-heir from a distant arm of the galaxy was approaching, it was Nathariel. Wren held her breath and ducked behind a pillar, as if it might keep her out of the old man¡¯s sight. It wouldn¡¯t. ¡°Not good,¡± she muttered to herself. Was Nathariel actually coming to help one of his students? ¡°Never done that before. She¡¯s that special, huh? If only you¡¯d treated your other disciples the same¡­¡± Wren trailed off, then glanced around the pillar. Through the clouds of ash and black smoke, she spotted a distant dark blur bobbing up and down on the flats. A horse. ¡°Well, Myrrir, hurry up and take her. And do it fast.¡± But to hang around here? It¡¯d be suicide, especially if Nathariel was coming. At least Myrrir would still suffer for it, and Wren would still¡­win. In a way. Wren leapt up to the roof of the control room, then dove off the other side and glided on her wings. The air whistled around her. The closer she drew to the coast, the more it cleared, but the shore was still a long ways away. What if Nathariel came after her next? She would need bargaining chips. Wren couldn¡¯t stop herself from smiling as her next plan bubbled up in her mind. There was a convoy of unarmed sailors and officers from the Mediator¡¯s ship marching in the exact same direction she was headed. They¡¯d make the perfect hostages! ¡°Oh, I love when it falls into place!¡± she cheered, fluttering in a loop. Then she flapped her wings harder and took off towards the gully where she¡¯d last seen them. Glade saw the flashes of starlight in the Narvelpeare Facility¡¯s control room before he could make out the rest of the facility. It was like a lantern, beckoning them in the ashy fog. He sat on the back of Nathariel¡¯s horse, clinging on as the creature sprinted along the lava flats. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°Vayra is there!¡± he yelled, pointing his other hand over Nathariel¡¯s shoulder at the facility. ¡°She is in there!¡± When Glade could make out the details of the facility¡ªits spindles hanging over the molten river and its harshly-sloped walls (was the lava eating away at them?)¡ªNathariel stopped the horse. It skittered to a halt on the flats, its hooves clacking on the stone. ¡°I¡¯ll get Vayra,¡± Nathariel said. Then, he turned his gaze northwards, towards the distant shore. ¡°The bounty hunter ran off that way.¡± He dismounted, then pulled his orange, glassy spear off his back. He ran a hand along its tip, and flame flickered over it. He smeared the sparks around like he was laying mortar. ¡°Same direction the crew did.¡± ¡°You know what happened to the crew?¡± Glade asked, inching forwards on the horse and dropping himself onto the saddle proper. ¡°I can just barely sense their souls, now. Ride up the clear path in the forest until you reach a gully, then follow the gully¡¯s path north. Go fast, and help them. That hunter is up to something.¡± Glade dipped his head. As much as his duty was to Vayra, he would have to trust Nathariel for now. He wouldn¡¯t be doing his duty if he left them with no crew. There would be no way off the planet. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Glade said. He pulled his sword from its sheath, then grabbed onto the horse¡¯s reins with his other hand. The creature responded to his commands just as well. He tightened his legs against its flanks, as tight as he could, and it took off at a sprint. He guided it north, across the flats and back into the woods. They wound through the trees, swerving back and forth. The horse did most of the work. It leapt over logs and trotted expertly through the tight trunks. Until they arrived at a thin swath of land completely clear of trees. Maybe an eruption had once spewed a tongue of lava all the way up this direction. The ground began to slope downwards. He looked back and forth, searching for signs of the bounty hunter. Nothing. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. The clear path turned, and steadily, it began to narrow, until it passed a massive boulder and split off into a broad, gravelly delta. A gully ran perpendicular to it. With a confident trot, the horse leapt down into the gully. The ground at the bottom was flat, and there were only a few bits of wooden debris to dodge. At Glade¡¯s command, the horse resumed its sprint. The gully took an arduous path, winding side-to-side and growing steadily deeper. Glade took one last look up at the sky. The further they drew from the river, the clearer the sky became. It was evening, and the real clouds were glowing purple and pink. A bank of them bubbled up on the horizon, washing the entire sky with colour. But, against the pale colours, he spotted a dark fleck in the sky. It could have been a bird, but he¡¯d never once seen a bird on Muspellar before. More likely, it was the mothfolk hunter. She was following the path of the gully as well. Glade kept an eye on her. Gradually, with the help of the sprinting horse, he gained ground¡ªnow, he could make out her fluttering wings and her weapon. A trail of sawdust followed her through the sky. She swooped down, and Glade lost sight of her behind the tree line. A second later, she emerged, hauling a sailor by the neck of his tunic and dragging him into the sky. She dropped him to his death. Glade growled under his breath, then twirled his sword. She¡¯d found the crew. The gully turned, and the forest enclosed on all sides. Ahead, crowding the tiny canyon, was a caravan of sailors and officers. Their garb was dirty and tattered, but they all looked willing to fight. They had all halted. Some grabbed sticks, and others made fists with their hands. They wouldn¡¯t be any match for a God-heir bounty hunter. Neither would Glade, but at least he had a weapon and a Fair Spirit. ¡°Move!¡± he shouted. ¡°Out of the way! Get back!¡± The sailors whirled around, and for a second, they all stared at him. Again, he shouted, ¡°Get back! I am here to help!¡± The sailors all pressed themselves against the gully walls, forming a narrow canyon for Glade to ride the horse through. He navigated to the front of the column, holding his sword ahead of him. When he reached the front, he dismounted, then handed the horse¡¯s reins to a yellow-coated officer. ¡°That is an Admiral¡¯s horse. Do not let any harm come to it.¡± ¡°Yes! Yes, sir!¡± the officer called. Glade ran to the very front, where Captain Pels stood, clutching a long stick and looking around. ¡°Captain!¡± Glade yelled, running to the man¡¯s side. ¡°You?¡± Pels spun around. ¡°Where¡¯s Vayra? We could really use a hand right now! A¡­magical sort of hand.¡± ¡°I am all you will get,¡± Glade said. ¡°Where is the bounty¡ª¡± Before he could finish, he heard a thud. The hunter landed in front of them in a crouch, then shook her wings out and groaned. ¡°That was a long flight. Remind me not to do that again! Oh, oh, that¡¯s going to cramp tomorrow¡­¡± Glade stepped forwards, pointing his sword at her. ¡°What do you want?¡± She hoisted her short rifle up onto her shoulder, its axehead pointed up. ¡°I mean, I¡¯d appreciate it if you came with me. So Nathariel doesn¡¯t incinerate me.¡± ¡°If you want safety, then run,¡± Glade stated. ¡°Get as far from here as you can.¡± ¡°I take it you found Nathariel,¡± Pels whispered to Glade. ¡°It went alright?¡± ¡°We will see,¡± Glade whispered back. ¡°But we cannot escape without a crew.¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer the extra insurance,¡± Wren called, pacing across the center of the gully. She cocked her short musket. ¡°No one else has to get hurt, if you just don¡¯t resist.¡± She held out her other hand, revealing a pile of sawdust. ¡°Get back,¡± Glade hissed to Pels. ¡°Get everyone back, and keep them safe.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± the captain replied. Before Wren could point her musket, Glade leapt forwards. He led with a thrust, starting high and aiming downwards. Wren swung her weapon out to the side, deflecting the blade. She spun around and pointed it at Glade, then pulled the trigger. Anticipating the shot, Glade had already ducked away. The stone pellets blasted harmlessly into the gully wall behind him. He leapt, preparing a heavy swipe to cleave her from head to hip. She swiped her hand upwards. A crescent of sawdust blasted in his direction. It struck before his sword could land, flinging him to the side. He skidded along the ground, and came to a halt just in front of a large stone. With a flutter of her wings, Wren closed the distance in an instant. She hacked at him with her axehead. He stepped to the side and tried to slash her head, but she ducked. Before he could adjust, she struck Glade in the gut with a Bracing technique covering her arm. It sent him tumbling across the gully. ¡°For that insolence?¡± Wren drew a pair of wooden stakes out of her pouch. ¡°Hm¡­Let¡¯s say two of them die.¡± She turned towards the crew and pulled her arm back. She held two wooden stakes between her fingers. Shouting, Glade sprinted towards her. He swatted the stakes out of her hand with his sword. She clenched her fist, calling up the scattered sawdust from the ground and forming it into a whip. An advanced Guide technique, Glade figured, though that didn¡¯t change much. The whip attacked like a pack of angry snakes, and it took all his concentration to whirl his sword and defend himself. Each swipe scattered the dust, only for it to reform seconds later. He spun around, trying to gain some breathing room while deflecting the last of the barrage with a behind-the-back twirl. But as soon as he turned back around, Wren¡¯s sawdust whip wrapped around the blade of his sword and ripped it out of his hands. He stumbled forwards, and Wren struck him in the center of his chest with a palm strike, knocking him onto his back. Her sawdust enveloped the entire blade, reaching down and scouring even the hilt. It scraped away the leather bindings, leaving nothing but a steel hilt. She laughed, then tossed the blade down in front of him. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t go pouting, now! I¡¯ve got a Fair Spirit, just the same as you, but I made it work!¡± Glade narrowed his eyes. She had the resources of one of the most powerful families in the Elderworlds. He had a sword and the memory of his old master. There was a difference. But Elder Eman-Fa wouldn¡¯t have let that be the reason he lost. Neither could Glade. Glade lunged for his sword, then snatched it back up as he rolled. Wren swiped at him with her axe-musket, each blow carving off a chuck of the rocky ground. As soon as he found his footing, he spread his stance and held his position. Her axehead collided with his sword, but he held his grip. She leaned into it, pushing with her enhanced body and a Bracing technique, and he began to slip backwards. He tightened his grip, as if that might help. The bare steel of the hilt bit into his hand, mixing with his blood and grating against his muscles. He began to pant, trying to assuage the pain. The panting became rhythmic, and he forced himself, on instinct, to breathe deeper. The little dregs of Arcara that he¡¯d managed to purify raced out into his hands and¡­and wrapped around the sword. The sword was his domain. It always had been, and it always would be. Chapter 55 - Pushing Through [Volume 2] Glade¡¯s wisp of Arcara leaked out of his hand and wrapped around the sword, forming a wispy gray swirl around the weapon. Light glinted off the cutting edge, followed by a soft shhhing, like he¡¯d scraped a pebble down the fuller. The sword¡¯s edge bit into Wren¡¯s axehead, spewing sparks. A sword technique. He didn¡¯t know what it was called, or what it did, or how it worked, but he knew how it felt. Wren recoiled and stumbled back. Glade had to take his chance to defeat her. He leapt forwards, closing the distance and unleashing a barrage of swipes. Each blow she blocked, but he took a chip out of the axe with each swipe. After a few seconds of holding the technique, his mouth felt parched. He wished he still had the flask of Stream water, but it was tucked into the horse¡¯s saddlebags. Too far away. Before he burned through the last of his mana, he lunged and impaled the flat of the axehead with such strength that the tip of his sword pierced through. He cut off the technique in the only way he could¡ªby releasing his grip on the sword. First, however, he ripped the now-attached weapons out of Wren¡¯s hands. He made fists, preparing to continue the barrage with his empty hands, when he heard crunching gravel at the top of the gulley. ¡°Glade!¡± Pels shouted. ¡°Get back!¡± At once, the ratchety clicks of muskets cocking filled the gully. Along the edges of the gullies, a troop of humanoids in raggety garb emerged, all carrying muskets or flintlocks of some kind. At their head was an orc¡ªone of the twins from the resistance. The orc shouted, ¡°Give up, hunter! Back off!¡± Glade took a few steps back, so if the resistance did attack, he wouldn¡¯t get hit by the barrage. Wren raised her hands casually, then skipped back a few steps. ¡°Right. That¡¯s annoying. I¡¯ll¡ª¡± The orc in the lead fired his musket, and the shot blasted into the ground between her feet. ¡°Scram, or we¡¯ll put a third eye in your forehead.¡± Glade glanced around, looking for the largest piles of sawdust, and any other shards of wood she could use. Surely, she¡¯d have a whip ready, and strike down the resistance fighters in a single blow. Glade opened his mouth, ready to warn them, when Wren kicked the ground and turned about, then sprinted away down the gully. A few slow claps echoed down the gully from behind him. He turned around, half expecting it to be Pels. Instead, he set his eyes on Perron. She walked between Pels and a sailor, resting a small musket on her shoulder. ¡°Good work, boys.¡± Then, she leaned closer to Pels, and whispered, ¡°I figured you¡¯d gotten in trouble when you stopped bringing me ships.¡± Pels snorted. ¡°We got ourselves out of it, too. Nearly.¡± ¡°Excuse me, ma¡¯am,¡± Glade said. He bent down and picked his sword up, but he didn¡¯t sheath it. ¡°I doubt the bounty hunter is done with us. She is still out there.¡± Perron shook her head. ¡°You did well, boy. There¡¯s no Stream water out here, and she was using techniques like mad. I¡¯d say you got her real flustered, and with no more Stream water, she backed right off.¡± ¡°Perron,¡± one of the orcs said. ¡°Their ship. They¡¯ll want it.¡± Perron smiled, then turned back to Pels. ¡°Now, we have your ship to retake, don¡¯t we?¡± Captain Pels nodded. ¡°I¡¯d be thankful for a hand.¡± He looked at Glade, then said, ¡°Myrrir¡¯s pirates took our ship back to the very inlet we left you in. Find Vayra and Nathariel and bring them there, and we¡¯ll be ready to sail.¡± Fading in and out of consciousness, Vayra barely registered her movement as she trundled through the hallways of the Narvelpeare Facility. Something dragged her by her leg¡ªthe only leg she had left. It was probably Myrrir, though she couldn¡¯t see him. The thought made her retch. With what little focus she mustered, she tried to focus her Arcara on the site of her injuries, as if it might help. It only made her concentrate on the missing limbs, and combined with searing, unfathomable discomfort, there was¡­an invisible hand gripping her heart, making it shake and shudder. The feeling bled all around her body, and she just didn¡¯t understand how to make it go away. Sleep¡­that would be good enough¡­ One minute, she was sliding along the floor, drifting away from the control room. Everything went dark for a few moments, then she found herself in the hallway outside the canister-sealing room. Phason¨¦ was screaming inside Vayra¡¯s head still, but nothing she was saying made any sense. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Myrrir hauled her up to the top of the stairs at the canister¡¯s base, holding only her ankle. For just a second, she looked back and met his gaze. Desperately, she breathed, ¡°Is this what you want? Is it? Do you like Karmion? Do you want him to win?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve only met him once.¡± Myrrir scoffed. ¡°I know what I want.¡± He pulled her leg, about to heave her up and into the canister¡ªthrough the ajar lid¡ªbut he stopped, then threw her ankle down. For a second, she thought she saw hesitation, until he turned back to the canister and set to work. He opened the Arcara-lock, then used the pulleys to hoist the top half of the canister back up. Any second, he would trap her. She began to inch away, pushing herself with her one leg. She began to move in a circle, until she threw her body back the other direction. Her hand slipped in the trail of her own blood. The effort made black specks whirl in front of her eyes, and her head felt like it was made of clouds. At any moment, she could drift away¡­and not have to think about anything anymore. An image of her walking along at Karmion¡¯s side flashed through her mind¡ªthe same vision she had seen in the Arcara-soaked storeroom. But fading away was insufficient. She had so much left to do¡­so many more planets to see¡­ She pressed her eyes tight together, then kept pushing. The ground shook, and she heard a distant boom. Vibrations shivered up her arm, and dust rained from the ceiling. Smoke swirled in the hallway ahead, and dust fell from the ceiling. She kept pushing herself towards the hallway. By the time Myrrir caught up to her, she had made it to the doorway of the circular room. He shouted something¡ªshe couldn¡¯t tell what¡ªthen began to run towards her. ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t do that, boy,¡± came a voice from down the hallway. Not Myrrir¡¯s voice. ¡°Best back off while you still can.¡± Vayra fell flat on her stomach and looked up. Amidst the swirling smoke and dust, she spotted a dark silhouette in baggy pants and a sash. He held a spear in his hand, its head flaming like a torch. Nathariel. Myrrir growled and shouted something, then bounded forwards. He held his sword like he wanted to pin Vayra to the ground with it, but before he could get within two steps, Nathariel flicked his spear outwards. A bolt of flame, a concentrated beam of bright yellow-white light, blasted outwards and struck Myrrir in the chest. Myrrir flew backwards across the room and came to a halt against the wall. His back left a crater on the impact point, and his chest smoked. Nathariel bounded forward, holding his spear ahead of him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a suggestion.¡± He pointed the weapon at Myrrir. Myrrir¡¯s limbs began to glow orange, veins lighting up like they¡¯d been set ablaze, but he leapt to his feet and took a fighting stance. When Myrrir stomped his foot down, the glow in his veins faded. ¡°That won¡¯t work on a Commodore.¡± ¡°Aye, but it was worth a try. This will.¡± Nathariel swept his spear outwards, spinning it behind his neck and in two vast loops in front of him. Two crescent shaped blades of flame raced towards Myrrir. Myrrir sliced the first crescent in half with his sword, but the second came moments later and struck him in the gut, searing away his waistcoat and charring his flesh. He shouted and patted out the burning fabric. Nathariel closed the distance with one last leap, and when he landed, he lunged. His spear banged against Myrrir¡¯s sword too fast for Vayra to comprehend. She could only make out blurring weapons. She slapped the side of her head with her hand, trying to stay awake. Her rapid cycling had slowed the bleeding in her leg and arm, but she was still slowly leaking, and it didn¡¯t sooth the pain. Gritting her teeth, she tried to turn around. ¡®Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ groaned. ¡®Nathariel is¡­only one stage ahead of Myrrir, now. There¡¯s a chance he loses. A chance.¡¯ The Goddess was silent for a few seconds, before finally, she added, ¡®The barrel. If Myrrir locks Nathariel in it¡­¡¯ The barrel, previously intended for Vayra, was still open. Its top was suspended by pulleys, ready to slam down at a moment¡¯s notice and trap someone. She pulled the collar of her robe up and pressed it between her teeth, then hauled herself back towards the barrel as the two God-heirs clashed on the other side of the room. When she reached the step ladder, she tried to crawl onto it, subconsciously expecting her right leg to be there. She only had half a thigh. She gasped, then fell hard on her chin. For a few seconds, everything went black. When the specks cleared, she blinked furiously, then bit into her collar harder and kept pushing. When she reached the top of the ladder, she tried reaching for the Arcara-enchanted lock on the side of the barrel. It was a small panel, laced with a complex knot of starsteel wires and insulated with a sheet of glass. A shimmer of Arcara flowed along the wire in a loop¡ªprobably placed there by a blacksmith God-heir and left to circulate. First, she tried to shatter the panel with a punch, but while her mind told her that her right arm still existed, the stump at her bicep only shook. Again, she gasped, then pressed her eyes shut. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and struck the glass panel with her left hand until the thin pane shattered. The starsteel filaments, un-insulated, already began to bleed Arcara out of their loop. Vayra grabbed them and tugged them out, destroying the circuit¡ªand the lock altogether. She slumped down and landed on her chest, unable to control her landing in any other way. Nathariel bashed Myrrir with an overhead strike, knocking the jade sword away, then swatted upwards with his spear¡¯s shaft. Myrrir retaliated with a heavy swipe that knocked Nathariel back. The man stumbled. He leaned back on the lower half of the barrel, panting. Myrrir jumped up and cut the top half of the barrel free again. It crashed down, clamping Nathariel¡¯s arm. Without the Arcara lock in place, Nathariel threw the top half of the barrel off with easy. He lashed out with a palm strike, flinging Myrrir into the wall. The wall, already weakened, collapsed. It crumbled away, falling in chunks down towards the lava flow below. The molten river ate away at the facility, and along with the walls, a section of the floor crumbled. Half of the stone fell away beneath Myrrir¡¯s feet, and he stumbled backwards. A primal fear lit up in his eyes, and he reached forwards desperately. Nathariel spat at his feet, then tapped him gently on the forehead. Myrrir fell backwards, disappearing behind a wall of smoke and sparks. Turning back to face Vayra, Nathariel rushed over. He grabbed her shoulder tightly, as if he was about to scold her. But he only scowled, then said, ¡°It is time to leave. Now. Do not resist, or you will not live.¡± Chapter 56: Harmonys Escape [Volume 2] Bremi was one of the first to make it back aboard the Harmony. He was one of the few members of the crew who could swim, and they needed swimmers. The ship floated out in the center of the sheltered inlet, and there were no rowboats on the shore. The Harmony¡¯s lanterns shimmered in the evening air, and he spotted a few of Myrrir¡¯s pirates roaming around the deck, keeping watch. The sails had been furled and the anchors dropped, and even the cannons looked loaded. Bremi, Pels, and a few of the few other sailors and officers who could swim paddled out to the ship, moving slowly and keeping their heads down. If the pirates spotted them, it would be over. Pels and the officers climbed up to the main deck with the ladder, but Bremi had a different plan¡ªwhether his captain approved or not. He climbed a few rungs up the ladder, then leapt to the nearest gun port and latched on to the rim. The port was open, ready to fire, but he didn¡¯t see anyone behind it. Myrrir had left just enough sentries to make sure the ship didn¡¯t float away, but no more than that. Bremi climbed through the gun port. His shoulders were still skinny, and he was more than nimble enough. He emerged in the gloomy gun deck, and immediately, he ducked down between two cannons so no one would see him. On one side of the gun deck, a pair of pirates sat at a table, throwing playing cards onto a pile at the center and laughing. Their pistols waited on the table, ready to be used. Bremi crept out of cover softly, then slipped to the end of the deck, where a few muskets hung on a rack¡ªthe marines¡¯ muskets. He snatched up one. It was loaded. Weaving between cannons and ducking between crates of cannonballs, he approached the two pirates. As soon as he was close enough, he set the musket down and took off his yellow coat. His shirt and cumberbund were dirty enough that no one would know he was a midshipman without his coat. Putting a stagger into his step, he emerged from cover with a fake groan. He hoped the pirates would feel some sort of pity for a young sailor who¡¯d managed to evade them so far¡ªor so he formed the story in his mind¡ªbut really, he just needed them to hop up from the table, leaving their pistols behind. Both of the pirates did. They leapt up, and immediately, they rushed towards Bremi with outstretched arms. He lunged back to cover and snatched up his stolen musket, then cocked it. He hadn¡¯t received any formal training with firearms, not like sis, but he knew how to fire an already-loaded musket. Both of the pirates skittered to a halt, and Bremi didn¡¯t have to fire. ¡°Alright, now,¡± he said. ¡°Up to the main deck with you.¡± That was hoping Pels had taken care of the sentries above deck. Both of the pirates walked to the stairs, their hands up. For good measure, Bremi snatched up one of their pistols from the table. It was already loaded too. When they emerged from below deck, Bremi glanced around, trying to guess what had happened. The orcs from the resistance held a few pirates at gunpoint, and Pels had retrieved a musket from somewhere. The rest of the sailors emerged from the great cabin, carrying Pels¡¯s spare pistols. ¡°It was a good try,¡± Pels told the pirates. ¡°But you¡¯re not in luck today, eh?¡± He tilted his head towards the side of the ship, then motioned with the musket. ¡°Hop overboard, now. Quickly. It¡¯s our ship, and it always will be.¡± Cautiously, the surrendered pirates stepped towards the railing. There were about six of them, and all of them jumped¡­well, Bremi wouldn¡¯t say willingly. They didn¡¯t linger. As soon as the pirates fled the ship, Bremi ran to the starboard railing, which faced the shoreline. He watched, hoping to see any sign of Glade or his sister. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got quite the mess to clean up,¡± Pels complained, pacing along the deck. He pulled a rope, but it had been knotted. ¡°Get the longboats ashore, and get everyone else aboard. We¡¯ve gotta get the sails in working order again, at least.¡± ¡°What about Myrrir¡¯s ship?¡± someone asked. ¡°It¡¯s still out there, somewhere.¡± Bremi spared a brief glance over his shoulder, and he used it to search the ocean. He saw no sign of the pirate junk, but it had to be nearby. ¡°You saw how many men they brought to Narvelpeare,¡± Pels said. ¡°They won¡¯t have enough to keep their ship going until they get back, either. As long as we¡¯re faster than them, we¡¯ve got a free shot to the Stream.¡± The screw scrambled to action, and Bremi joined them¡ªas long as he could keep an eye on the coast. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. They pushed the cannons back into place and cleared debris off the deck, then rearranged the rigging to sort out the mess the pirates had made out of it. A few of the ropes had been cut, and the others were tangled up into knots. It took them until at least midnight¡ªwhen the sky felt the blackest¡ªto fix the mess. The resistance left, disappearing off into the night. Bremi suspected he¡¯d never see the orcs or Perron again, and he wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to. Once Pels seemed satisfied with the state of the ship, he ordered everyone to stay on high alert. They raised an anchor, in case they needed to run quickly, and loaded all of the cannons. All of the marines who remained grabbed their muskets and waited at the prow, watching the dark ocean outside the inlet. Bremi returned to the railing and stared out at the shore, and he planned to keep staring until someone ordered him to do otherwise. But he didn¡¯t have to stare long. After a few minutes, he spotted a brown-haired horse emerging from the spires of black rock. It trotted at a fast pace, weaving between obsidian shards as it raced towards the ship. Bremi leaned forwards as far as he could, until he could make out the details of the riders. A man sat at the front. He wore baggy white pants and a thick white sash across his otherwise bare chest, and his dark skin was mottled with scars. On his back, he carried a long spear with an amber head. That must have been Nathariel. Bremi took a step back, his hands trembling. The crew had told plenty of stories about Nathariel, and he wasn¡¯t sure how much of it was true or not. But Glade was sitting behind Nathariel, and Bremi let himself relax a little. Just a little. He ran back to the railing and looked closer¡­and spotted a body draped over the saddle between them. Her flame-orange hair dangled off the side of the horse, bobbing listlessly as it trotted along. His eyes widened. ¡°Vayra¡­¡± By now, the rest of the crew spotted the horse and riders, and they lowered another longboat. A few sailors began to row towards her. Bremi stood at the railing, his hands frozen. Sis wasn¡¯t dead, was she? When the horse arrived at the shore, the rowboat was waiting for them. Nathariel dismounted, followed by Glade. Glade pulled Vayra off the horse, then carried her limp body to the longboat. Bremi pressed his eyes shut again for what felt like a blink, and the longboat had returned. The sailors hooked it to a set of winches and raised it up to the main deck. The sailors helped Glade off the ship, and they helped him carry Vayra¡¯s body. Bremi sprinted behind them, unwilling to let them out of his sight. They ran below deck, calling for the ship¡¯s surgeon¡ªMr. Spawlding¡ªwho met them halfway to the infirmary. Bremi put a jump into his step, trying to peer between the bobbing heads and catch a glimpse of his sister. Her right arm had been bandaged¡ª No, wait¡­it was gone. So was her right leg! She had stumps left, wrapped in the black fabric of Glade¡¯s outer coat. A tourniquet had been tied higher up on each limb. Finally, Mr. Spawlding noticed Bremi running behind them, and he announced, ¡°She¡¯s alive, but barely!¡± They stormed into the infirmary and set Vayra down on one of the cots. Nathariel paced beside them, watching over the surgeons with a calm expression. He handed Mr. Spawlding a shimmering blue vial, but Bremi couldn¡¯t hear what he said. Bremi tried to follow them in, but a hand clasped his shoulder. He looked up and back, and he spotted Captain Pels. The man also grabbed Glade and pulled him away. ¡°They¡¯ll do all they can, but you¡¯ll just get in the way here.¡± Mr. Spawlding kicked the infirmary¡¯s door shut behind him, sealing the room off. Bremi looked up at Pels. To hide his trembling hands, he shoved them in his pockets. ¡°Sir, should we¡ª¡± ¡°They¡¯re doing their job. We¡¯ve gotta get out of here, now¡ªand that¡¯s our job.¡± Bremi ran with Pels up to the main deck, ducking between scrambling sailors and petty officers. Carpenters carried planks of wood about the ship, and the boatswain rushed past with bundles of rope in his arms. They emerged from the belly of the ship at a sprint. As soon as the starlight hit Pels¡¯s face, he called, ¡°Lift that anchor! Hard to larboard! Drop the sails!¡± Bremi was about to run to the main mast¡ªwhere he would be stationed while they left the atmosphere¡ªbut he couldn¡¯t resist asking, ¡°Captain, where are we heading?¡± ¡°We¡¯re getting off this planet,¡± Pels said. ¡°And¡­and we¡¯re heading back to Thronehome. The Order of Balance will know what to do, whether Nathariel likes it or not.¡± ¡°He¡­might not,¡± Bremi said. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t, he can get off my ship.¡± ¡°He¡¯s an Admiral¡­¡± ¡°But in name only.¡± Pels shook his head, then marched off towards the quarterdeck. ¡°All hands to your stations! We¡¯ll have the breeze astern! Make for the Stream, and if we hold fast, we¡¯ll make it to safety!¡± Bremi waited at the base of the mainmast, until Lieutenant McHyll arrived¡ªwhen leaving the atmosphere, the lieutenants each commanded a mast. Running around like a courrier, Bremi delivered orders to the sailors, instructing them to lower the sails and haul on the braces to adjust the yards. The ship turned, then sloshed through the water. They passed through the mouth of the bay, then out into open seas. Pels turned the ship so they faced straight towards the Stream, and that meant the lieutenants had to adjust their masts again to keep the sails full. Bremi climbed up to the ratlines, trying to bring an order to the sailors at the first, lowest yard, but he stopped halfway up. In the distance, guarding the Stream, he spotted an Elderworld warship¡ªa second-rate ship, with two decks of cannons embedded in its black and white hull. ¡°Captain!¡± Bremi yelled. ¡°Ship!¡± ¡°They won¡¯t be able to cut us off, not with this wind behind us!¡± It didn¡¯t stop the warship from firing a volley of cannonfire. One shot splashed into the water just beside them, but otherwise, nothing hit. By the time the ocean began to slope upwards, iridescent water mixing with regular seawater, the Elderworld ship was far behind them. When the Harmony finally pierced up out of the atmosphere, the entire crew let out a sigh, and Bremi couldn¡¯t help but join them. Chapter 57: Aftermath 2 [Volume 2] Wren half-sprinted and half-fluttered to the shoreline as fast as she could, pushing aside the screaming ache in her shoulders and at the base of her wings. When the discomfort became too much to bear, she stopped behind a thick tree and opened her pack. She withdrew a pale white elixir and slurped it down. It might have cost anyone else an entire life¡¯s worth of savings, but she was still the chosen child of a wealthy silk-spinning family. For a few hours, the elixir took away any sort of pain she felt, and she continued onwards to the shore. The forest merged with the plain of obsidian shards. For the next day, she wove through them, continuously glancing over her shoulder to check if Nathariel was following her. Nothing. When she finally reached the coast, she gave one last flutter, carrying herself out to her small sloop. ¡°Get us out of here!¡± she called to the captain. The entire crew first acknowledged her with a well-trained bow, then snapped to attention and took to their duties. ¡°Where to, ma¡¯am?¡± the captain asked. ¡°Take me back to Silkhaven. I need¡­I need to rest¡­¡± Myrrir clung to a crumbling ledge for an hour. Then two hours, then three. The lava ate away at more and more of the defenceless facility, and more of the lava-flow-facing wall began to crumble. He fell from ledge to ledge. Whenever he tried to haul himself up onto the floor and regain control, more of the ledge crumbled. He spent mana to hold his Bracing technique in place and keep his muscles from wearing out. His wooden fingertips clacked against the stone, and the starsteel wires surged with Arcara. They couldn¡¯t hold the Bracing technique as well as flesh and blood, but they still channeled energy. After the fourth hour, the lava flow faded. It gurgled away down the riverbed, leaving only a few dribbles of magma on the glassy black stone. The facility stopped crumbling. Just as he was about to haul himself up over the ledge, a pair of leather boots appeared, mostly covered by a long robe. Myrrir looked up. Tye! The man crept forwards carefully, holding an arm out in front of him. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have gotten here any sooner?¡± Myrrir grumbled. ¡°Not all of us are God-heirs,¡± Tye replied. ¡°If I fell, I could not cling to an edge for hours. I cannot risk falling.¡± Myrrir rolled his eyes, then muttered, ¡°Old man¡­¡± Still, he took Tye¡¯s hand. ¡°Old man, indeed.¡± Tye hauled him up to the ledge. ¡°We must leave.¡± ¡°What happened to the Mediator?¡± Myrrir demanded. ¡°Where did she go? What about that God-heir bounty hunter? Where did¡ª¡± ¡°She is gone, and so is Nathariel. You need a surgeon¡ªnot another fight you cannot win.¡± Myrrir sighed, then stepped back from the ledge. He scrunched his nose up, and tightened his fists. The image of the Admiral charging through the hallway towards him had been burned into his mind. His techniques had seared Myrrir¡¯s Arcara channels and burned a hot red scar across his stomach. Myrrir took a wheezing breath¡ªmore than usual¡ªand stepped back. ¡°Myrrir, your father will hear about this,¡± Tye warned. ¡°He can hear about it all he wants.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll be angry.¡± ¡°He¡¯s already banished me. He doesn¡¯t seem willing to kill me. What do I have to fear?¡± ¡°Karmion.¡± Myrrir spun around, flicking the tails of his coat. He cycled Arcara through his channels, hoping to at least soothe the burning spiritual pain he felt. It only made them sting worse. Instead, he concentrated on the pain to keep himself on his feet¡ªto stop from passing out from exhaustion. ¡°Myrrir, it would not be wise to show your face in a populated star system for¡­a long time.¡± ¡°If I bring father the Mediator, none of that will matter¡­¡± He trailed off, then blinked. For a brief flash, he saw an image of the orange-haired phoenix, writhing on the floor, her arm and legs severed and her clear blood pooling beneath her. The same could happen to him. Karmion would have his own, more powerful hunters. Maybe, maybe, Myrrir could take the time to recover. To plan, to advance, and to prepare for his next encounter with his quarry. A month or two couldn¡¯t hurt, could it? Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. With a conceding exhale, he looked at Tye and said, ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll hide for two standard months. We¡¯ll take the time to recover, and we¡¯ll come back stronger than ever. Do you have place in mind?¡± ¡°We will head back to the Hyovao, and we will plot a course,¡± Tye said, his voice growing more firm and commanding. Myrrir didn¡¯t have the will left to argue with the man. ¡°The crew has been severely diminished, and everyone will need to work double watches.¡± But, as Myrrir followed Tye through the facility¡¯s hallways, Myrrir had to argue with himself. Spikes of guilt shot through his feet, trying to anchor him to the ground and make him turn back. He should be chasing the Mediator. Every second not spent pursuing his goal was a second wasted. Is this what you really want¡­? Her voice had been so soft, so weak. He could have thrown her in the canister and never heard it again, but he¡¯d hesitated. Keeping his voice low, Myrrir whispered, ¡°Tye¡­thank you for staying. Thank you for coming back.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t know how many hours passed in the Harmony¡¯s infirmary. It took her a few minutes to recognize the room, fading in and out of sleep, and another hour before she could even stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. When she managed to stay awake for more than a minute, Nathariel pressed a glowing blue vial into her hands. It was slightly warm, and after a few seconds, she realized it was an elixir. ¡°Drink,¡± Nathariel commanded. ¡°Your Arcara channels have been ripped open. This will help seal them and prevent the destruction of your entire spirit.¡± So she did. She cycled it out into her limbs, and she half expected it to reach the invisible tips of her missing limbs. It didn¡¯t. The moment it passed into her arm¡ªnow wrapped in a thick layer of bandages¡ªit stopped. The Arcara channels in her limb closed up where her skin ended; where the stump lay. She pushed it down to her leg, and the same sealing process began. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to interrupt,¡± Mr. Spawlding said, glancing nervously at Nathariel, ¡°but is Phason¨¦ alright?¡± Vayra gulped. Phason¨¦ would be suffering from the same wounds, and although she was a Goddess, her enhanced healing wouldn¡¯t help her regrow limbs, nor would it be enough to seal her wounds¡ªnot while Vayra was so weak, at least. And the Goddess had been awfully silent. Without giving Mr. Spawlding an answer, Vayra slammed her eyes shut and pulled herself into Phason¨¦¡¯s void. The blank white plane enveloped her. She fell, but this time, when she hit the ground, she only had one leg¡ªnot enough to stand on. She landed hard on her stomach, but there was no time to question it. ¡°Phason¨¦?¡± Vayra called. She pushed herself in a circle with her one leg, until she spotted the Goddess¡¯ dark form collapsed on the floor. Clenching her teeth, Vayra pushed herself closer to Phason¨¦. Mr. Spawlding had clearly given her some sort of painkiller, and it was potent. She could barely feel anything, though, not even the pressure of the ground against the palm of her left hand. She kept pushing herself along until she was only a few feet away from Phason¨¦. The Goddess had suffered the same injuries¡ªarm severed, leg severed. The missing limbs were nowhere to be seen. ¡°Phason¨¦!¡± Vayra yelled. ¡°Can you hear me? Hello! Hey!¡± She slapped the ground beside Phason¨¦¡¯s head, but it didn¡¯t even make a thud. Golden blood leaked out from her wounds, but not as much as Vayra would have expected. She supposed it was a by-product of such an enhanced body. But, despite the slow leak, Phason¨¦ had been bleeding for a long time. The Goddess stirred for a moment, her eyes half open, but she shut them again soon after. ¡°I¡­didn¡¯t want to make you worry. There was nothing you could do¡­¡± ¡°If you die, I die.¡± ¡°Then get help¡­¡± Vayra opened her eyes, and outside the void, barely a second had passed. She whispered, ¡°Phason¨¦ needs a patch¡­then you can worry about me¡­¡± For the next hour, Mr. Spawlding and Nathariel helped her provide Phason¨¦ the medical attention she needed¡ªbandages and tourniquets for Vayra to take into the void, as well as medicines and a weak healing elixir that Nathariel had on hand. Supposedly, that would be enough to keep Phason¨¦ alive. Her enhanced healing would take over and do the rest, even if the limbs would never regrow. Most of it was a blur. Vayra tried to focus, but she was just as tired, and she needed to sleep as well. When Nathariel assured her that Phason¨¦ wouldn¡¯t die any time soon, Vayra let herself slip off back into a deep sleep. She didn¡¯t know how much later she woke up, but from the grumbling in her stomach¡ªand from how dry her mouth was¡ªshe guessed it had been a few days. She did her best to spring upright. A makeshift prosthetic had been attached to the stump of her leg¡ªa simple wooden peg, with a cup that meshed with the stump and a belt to keep it in place. Her arm¡­was still gone. She¡¯d lost too much for a simple hook-hand to do the trick. Everything¡­everything would be different. Immediately, one of the surgeons¡¯ mates handed her a cup of water, and she gulped it down as fast as she could. She drank two more, before finally collapsing back onto the cot. She looked up at the roof, and at the swaying lantern. ¡°Phason¨¦, are you alright?¡± ¡®I¡¯m¡­awake,¡¯ the Goddess responded. Vayra immediately shut her eyes and pulled herself into the void¡ªpeg leg and all. She fell on it, and landed upright, but she couldn¡¯t stay standing for long. After a few hobbles, she fell onto the empty white floor. This time, she could crawl along with almost two legs. When she reached Phason¨¦, she dropped down onto her side, panting from exertion. Phason¨¦ lay on her back, staring blankly up into the void. Vayra couldn¡¯t bear to look at the Goddess¡¯ mostly-healed stumps for limbs. She pushed herself to Phason¨¦¡¯s left side, so she didn¡¯t have to see a constant reminder of it. Then, Vayra flopped onto her back and stared up at the empty white sky. A few minutes passed. Phason¨¦ said nothing. The silence pressed against Vayra¡¯s eardrums like it was about to split her head in half. She couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Her lip began to quiver. ¡°Phas, I¡¯m sorry¡­I¡¯m so sorry¡­I should have trusted them, and I should have listened¡­and I¡ª¡± She broke into an uncontrollable bout of sobbing. First, raw grief seemed to bubble up from her stumps, a reminder that she might never walk again. Then, pain and embarrassment and sorrow and everything that she should have done differently¡­if she had just been willing to listen. And now it was all¡ª ¡°Vayra,¡± Phason¨¦¡¯s voice softly interrupted the spiralling thoughts. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright. It will. I think Nathariel has a plan¡­¡± Chapter 58: Replacements [Volume 2] Vayra inched closer to Phason¨¦, until the tip of her ear brushed against the Goddess¡¯ shoulder. ¡°If I¡¯d just¡ª¡± ¡°I know,¡± Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡°I know. You don¡¯t have to say it¡ªI can see all your thoughts.¡± That didn¡¯t stop the guilt and shame swirling around in Vayra¡¯s stomach from doubling in size. ¡°But¡ªbut I did this. You should be furious!¡± ¡°I was. For a long while. I¡¯ve had a lot of time to be¡­¡± The Goddess¡¯ voice didn¡¯t sound warm or comforting anymore. A touch of cold anger slipped into her words. ¡°I once feared you¡¯d be willing to jump off a cliff just to prove a point.¡± ¡°Phas, I¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll never get my arm and leg back, either. That would have been entirely your fault. But I don¡¯t need your apologies; I know how you feel, and I can sense your remorse. Really, you owe Nathariel all your gratitude.¡± ¡°I know¡­¡± Vayra breathed. She shifted away, then spread her arms and let all the air seep out of her lungs. ¡°I¡¯ll make it better. I¡¯ll fix this, and¡ª¡± ¡°Like I said, it will be alright.¡± Phason¨¦ reached out and placed a hand on Vayra¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing I can read your mind. That way you don¡¯t have to promise me you¡¯ve learned.¡± The Goddess paused, then heaved herself onto her side. She stared right at Vayra. ¡°Now, you can¡¯t spend the rest of your life in here. Get back out and talk with Nathariel.¡± ¡°Alright¡­¡± Vayra sucked in a breath through her teeth, and let it out one more time, then forced her real eyes open and peeled away the void. Once more, she laid on a cot in the Harmony¡¯s infirmary. Everyone was nearby, now. Nathariel stood at the end of the cot, with his arms crossed. Glade sat on a stool much closer to her head, and Bremi had just run through the door, clutching his straw hat to his head and panting. They all wore leather Streamrunning masks; the ship must still have been travelling down the Stream. She guessed it would be a week or so still before they arrived back at Thronehome. ¡°How are you feeling, Ms. Vayra?¡± Spawlding asked. He stood in a corner of the infirmary, holding a clear vial. He mixed up a green slurry with a stir stick. ¡°Any nausea? Or sharp pain? When you¡¯re not moving, I should say.¡± ¡°Not¡­that I know of,¡± Vayra replied. She looked at Glade, but she didn¡¯t know what to tell him. He set his hand down on the edge of the bed. His fingers were clenched into a fist. Vayra half-expecting him to lash out and reprimand her. First, his face contorted into a scowl. Then he grimaced, and said, ¡°I am glad you are doing better.¡± She didn¡¯t know what else to expect from him. She¡¯d only ever witnessed one outburst, if it could be called that. My father was a Redmarine. He lost his leg fighting bluecoats. ¡°Glade, this won¡¯t happen again,¡± she whispered. With a nod, he tilted his head towards Nathariel. ¡°I¡¯m¡­gonna have to learn how to fight with a peg-leg,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to relearn¡ª¡± ¡°No you won¡¯t.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Can you walk?¡± ¡°I can try.¡± ¡°Only for short distances,¡± said Mr. Spawlding. ¡°Don¡¯t overdo it. I only have so many painkillers, and even they have limits.¡± ¡°Come with me.¡± Nathariel stepped away from the edge of the cot, then turned around and marched out of the infirmary. As his footsteps faded, he said, ¡°I¡¯ll be on the gun deck. The gunsmith has been helping me with something. But I could use your hands¡ªand stumps¡ªtoo. Preferably, before they completely seal over.¡± Vayra shifted to the edge of the cot, then glanced at Mr. Spawlding. The man shrugged, then said, ¡°I helped him align the Arcara channels and the tendon-wires, if that¡¯s any reassurance.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows, but everything that the two had said made her want to run up to the gun deck and see what was going on even more. She swung her real leg over the edge of the bed, then her leg-leg. Glade stood up, too, and he passed her a wooden crutch¡ªit was designed for a much larger sailor, but it looked like he¡¯d sawed the end off, making it about her size. Vayra slipped the crutch under her right shoulder, but she had to reach across her body with her left arm to grab on¡ªshe couldn¡¯t control the crutch with just a stump for an arm. With a grunt, she pushed herself up to her feet. She wobbled for a moment, then widened her stance and thrust her real leg forwards to maintain her balance. A wave of soreness rolled up from the stump of her leg, transmitting through her bones like Arcara through a channel. She clenched her jaw, and she heard Phason¨¦ hissing in mild discomfort. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Alright¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Time to walk.¡± She pushed her peg leg out. Her mind expected it to snap forwards, and she felt an invisible phantom of her leg following along with it. The phantom leg acted like a real leg, and she anticipated her movement based on it. The peg-leg, however, did not work like a real leg. She stumbled forwards, instinctively hopping on her real leg to catch her balance, before also planting her crutch. Glade rushed over, poised to help, but she caught her balance and pressed her peg-leg down. She muttered, ¡°Whoops.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got this, sis!¡± Bremi cheered from the doorway. Vayra chuckled. Of course, Bremi would say that. She didn¡¯t really believe it. Still, she took another step. Another stumble. She tried again. Another stumble. The next try, she cycled her Arcara down to the stump of her leg, and with it, her mind and concentration. She moved the stump precisely, and the peg-leg followed. She landed on it, but it worked. She took a proper step. Slowly, she hobbled out of the infirmary. Bremi walked in the lead, nattering nonsensical gibberish about Nathariel¡¯s project¡ªsomething about carved wood and starsteel wires, and how impressed he was by Nathariel¡¯s anatomical knowledge. Vayra nodded along. Of course an Admiral would have a vast array of knowledge about humanoid bodies; their magic passed through it, and they had enhanced their bodies beyond measure. She paid more attention to walking, however. The stairs up to the gun deck were a challenge, and she decided that hopping on one foot was a better alternative than trying to work with the peg. She found Nathariel in the center of the gun deck, surrounded by trinkets and half-formed wooden mechanisms. The gunsmith, Mr. Taramir, had set up a makeshift forge behind him, and was hammering away at a small metal rod. ¡°A little more heat, if you please, sir?¡± Mr. Taramir requested. Nathariel turned around, then, with an open palm, blasted a bar of fire into the metal rod. It wrapped around the bar and turned it white hot. ¡°Thank you.¡± Mr. Taramir continued to pound away at it with his hammer. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if you would make it,¡± Nathariel chuckled, turning towards Vayra. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on something.¡± ¡°I¡­I can see.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t dare to sit down, for fear that she might not be able to muster the strength to stand up again¡ªor maybe she¡¯d fall asleep again. Better to stay standing. ¡°Is that¡­for me?¡± ¡°Believe me,¡± Nathariel grumbled, ¡°I don¡¯t think I should be rewarding your exploits. But you survived, and having a cripple as a Mediator wouldn¡¯t do any of us any good.¡± ¡°Pels told me I had to help,¡± Mr. Taramir piped up. ¡°Though I admit, I wouldn¡¯t want a lame Mediator, either.¡± ¡°Thanks¡­¡± Vayra trailed off. She didn¡¯t want to sound rude, but she was still unsure what they were creating¡ªor what to be thankful for. She bent over at the hips, inching her crutch forwards as much as she could. At the center of all the devices, Nathariel screwed together a long, natural-looking structure of wood, starsteel and string. The strings looked like tendons, and the wooden rods like bones. ¡°That¡¯s¡­a leg.¡± It was the perfect size to fit her¡ªand bind to her stump. It looked almost exactly like Myrrir¡¯s prostethic hands. As soon as the realization hit her, her mouth fell open. She hobbled forwards and nudged Nathariel with her knee. ¡°I know you¡¯re probably mad at me¡­but thank you. Thank you so much.¡± Nathariel glanced up at her and nodded gruffly, then turned back to his work. ¡°Try not to cycle Arcara to the wounds. We don¡¯t want the stumps fully closing over until we have the limbs attached. Binding the starsteel to your Arcara channels will be a little trickier, but not impossible.¡± ¡®We¡¯re lucky he sealed our channels with that elixir,¡¯ Phason¨¦ added. ¡®Otherwise, they would have ended up frayed and broken, and you might have lost so much Arcara that your core would have bled itself dry. But as far as I can tell, you haven¡¯t lost any cultivation.¡¯ ¡°What can I do to help?¡± Vayra asked. Nathariel stroked his chin for a moment, then said, ¡°Sit down. Take the peg-leg off, and help me get the articulation right. We can have it attached before the ship¡¯s watches change, if you lend a hand here and there.¡± ¡°On it,¡± Vayra said. ¡®I guess you¡¯ll have to sit down after all¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ remarked. Glancing back at Glade, Vayra asked, ¡°Could I get a hand? Please?¡± She wasn¡¯t sure if she could sit down without falling flat on her back, and she didn¡¯t need to hurt herself any more than she already had. Glade helped her down to a sitting position, then returned to the edge of the ship. He sat between two cannons cross-legged, with his sword on his lap. Its hilt had been unwrapped, and he rested a bandaged hand on the exposed tang. Bremi scuttled closer and began to whisper something to him, but a moment later, one of the lieutenants peered below deck and called for him. He scampered away. Vayra inched closer to Nathariel and the prosthetic leg¡ªas close as she could get. As well as the metal skeleton, the array of trinkets included smooth, curved panels of black wood from the trees of Muspellar. She figured that, when placed properly onto the mechanical skeleton, they would form the shape of a proper leg. ¡°Nathariel, how did you know that you¡¯d need these¡­replacements?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°These in particular?¡± He snorted. ¡°I only prepared a basic set of parts prior. I figured you¡¯d lose something, but didn¡¯t know precisely what you would lose.¡± He tapped the leg with a finger. ¡°I had a disciple who lost a hand, once, and we had to replace it. I¡¯ve done this before, though you¡¯re lucky we also have a surgeon of the Royal Navy aboard to help us.¡± Vayra nodded slowly. For a few minutes, she watched him work¡ªfastening bolts, adjusting the strings, bending the knee joint back and forth, and so on. When requested, she helped him hold a part or two with her one hand. ¡°I was not planning on coming back for you,¡± Nathariel said softly. ¡°But I went to the storeroom as well, and basked in the powerful remains of the Arcara. I saw a vision of my old master, and whether real or not¡­he gave advice. I figured it would be worth a listen. So, I suppose this repair is worth a try, too.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do everything I can to make it work.¡± ¡°I was hoping you would say that. Now, I¡¯ll need your fingers¡­¡± Chapter 59: Whole Again The rest of the day, Vayra helped Nathariel finish the leg. At least, as best as she could tell the time while on the stream. Everyone treated it like morning when she¡¯d woken up, and now it felt like evening. They measured the leg to ensure the proper dimensions, adjusting the outer panels and lengths of the inside beams as best as they could. Vayra slipped into the white void every few minutes to consult with Phason¨¦. Once the first leg (the one designed to fit Vayra) was mostly complete, they began work on the second leg¡ªwhich would be slightly larger¡ªto fit Phason¨¦. Nathariel took to winding up some of the starsteel wires into coils. He made a large spring, long enough to run the length of a calf, then pushed a sliver of Arcara through it. It contracted. When he released it, the Arcara fled out into the air, sparking and sputtering until it was just a tinge on the breeze. He passed each coil to Vayra, so she could fit them into place in the leg. Once they were satisfied with the length, they attached it to her body. The process, Nathariel explained, would be smoother if she wasn¡¯t conscious, and she didn¡¯t complain¡ªshe¡¯d rather not have to feel it, either. They¡¯d have to blend her bones with the wood if they wanted the leg to stay attached to the stump, and that would take the help of Mr. Spawlding. Of course, she had wondered if they would be able to attach anything else to her body¡ªthe strings for tendons, or blood vessels and veins and nerves. But only the bone and Arcara channels would connect. If she couldn¡¯t push Arcara through the starsteel wires, she wouldn¡¯t be able to control the leg. And so, the starsteel wires would need to connect to her Arcara channels. She hobbled back to the cot in the infirmary, where Mr. Spawlding gave her a sip of a pink concoction. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, she was laying on a cot. It felt like only seconds had passed, but she doubted it. Instead of a peg-leg attached to her stump, there was something much heavier. She sat up and looked down at her leg, where the new prosthetic was fixed. A bar of wood protruded from the stump, now, surrounded on all sides by thick bandages and gauze. Wires reached upwards, poking through the stump as well and joining with the nexuses of her Arcara channels. ¡°Once it heals and seals completely,¡± Nathariel said, ¡°we can add the panels on top. And don¡¯t go complaining to me about them just being aesthetic. We wouldn¡¯t want the inner workings getting damaged because you bumped it.¡± He handed her the crutch again. ¡°I¡¯d suggest you let your enhanced body do the healing for you.¡± Vayra rubbed her head, then glanced at Mr. Spawlding, who cleaned off a scalpel with a cloth. He began to list off a set of medicines that she should be taking¡ªincluding anti-infectants and a pill to help her natural bone merge with the wood¡ªbut he stopped after the tenth, then said, ¡°I¡­will leave them in your quarters.¡± Already, Nathariel had started to walk away. He said, ¡°We¡¯ll get the foot attached, then make sure everything fits properly. Then we¡¯ll call it a day.¡± Vayra slid her legs off the cot, then pushed herself back up to her feet with the help of the crutch. Her new prosthetic leg was a little bit too short without the foot, so it made her hobble-walk a little stiff and awkward, but it wasn¡¯t much different than the peg-leg. The knee, without her control, barely articulated. There was nothing to relearn at the moment. For the rest of the evening, she worked on the foot, helping Nathariel align the metal toes and polish the ankle socket. Phason¨¦ had just as excellent knowledge of a humanoid body; she provided suggestions that even Nathariel couldn¡¯t match. The Admiral heeded them, no matter whether Vayra said they came from Phason¨¦ or not. They attached the foot as soon as it was complete, but it was slightly too tall, putting her off-balance the other way. So they adjusted the ankle, until both legs were the exact same length. The second leg, for Phason¨¦, was mostly complete¡ªfoot and all. ¡®I should be able to attach it myself,¡¯ the Goddess said. ¡®Though I¡¯ll do it when you¡¯re asleep, so hopefully you won¡¯t be able to feel it.¡¯ Vayra brought the complete leg (and the panels of wood they¡¯d carved for it) into the white void, then handed it to Phason¨¦. ¡°I hope this can make things¡­a little better,¡± she told the Goddess. Vayra spent the rest of the night in the infirmary, under the protection of the surgeons¡ªjust in case anything went wrong. But, in the morning, she woke up unharmed. As much as she could be. Nathariel was already up on the gun deck, producing two prosthetic arms. One, closer to completion, for Vayra, and another for Phason¨¦. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The arms took longer; Nathariel hadn¡¯t made much progress on it before Vayra woke up yesterday. Glade offered his assistance, as much as he could, When Bremi was off duty, he hung around the makeshift forge and workstation. Three days later, they had finished the skeleton of the arms. Vayra presented one¡ªthe larger one, properly sized¡ªto Phason¨¦. Then, Mr. Spawlding attached the smaller arm to her bicep-stump in the infirmary, and left her to sleep for the rest of the night. When Vayra woke up the next morning, Phason¨¦ informed her that the process of attaching the limbs inside the void had gone just as smoothly. First, Vayra tried to hide her relief, but nothing could be a secret between them. The repairs didn¡¯t stop. While she and Nathariel had been making the arms, she had been cycling Arcara to the stump of her leg, pushing it out through into the flesh and urging it to mend faster. Now, when she removed the bandages, there was just a smooth stump with a wooden bone sticking out through it¡ªand with a few starsteel wires wrapped around. ¡°We should be able to fit the panels on top,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Unless you have any more adjustments to make.¡± ¡°I can still make adjustments to the leg later, though, right?¡± she asked. ¡°You should be able to.¡± ¡°Alright then, yeah, let¡¯s get the covers on.¡± While she worked on healing the stump of her arm and binding the mechanical prosthetic in place, they fitted the curved wooden panels onto the skeleton, until it had the silhouette of her calf. Once the majority of the limb¡¯s shape had been built up, with only a few gaps in between the panels where the skeleton below peered through, Vayra asked, ¡°How long will it be before I can start using it?¡± ¡°You can use it when you can control it,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°The starsteel wires will follow the same rough paths your Arcara did, but moving the leg will be slightly different than contracting your muscles. The starsteel coils will contract, yes, but they will only respond to Arcara.¡± ¡°Will I ever get used to it?¡± Nathariel rubbed his side, where the patch of repaired prosthetic flesh had replaced his own skin. ¡°No, not likely. But you will learn to treat it as part of your body.¡± Vayra nodded slowly, then hoisted her arm up. It was lighter than the leg, its bones thinner and joints more elegant, and she barely had to put in any effort. But the elbow joint creaked forwards, loose and unresponsive. She wanted to push Arcara into it, yet the magical energy only swirled around at the end of her arm stump, unwilling to travel into the prosthetic. ¡°It¡­doesn¡¯t feel like it.¡± ¡°Probably not. And for now, that works to your benefit¡ªit¡¯ll make the stump easier to seal up.¡± He turned around, then pulled his voidhorn off his hip. He lifted the cap off, then reached inside and pulled out a small wooden panel about the size of the back of her hand. In its center were three charred indents, each with the same rune carved into them. ¡°Which reminds me¡­¡± Vayra squinted, then inched closer. Each indent looked exactly like the runestone socket on the Ignimaids¡¯ foreheads. ¡°Runestones?¡± she breathed. ¡°Will they¡­work? What will they do?¡± Nathariel set the panel down. ¡°We¡¯ll take a rokenfruit and made rokenade.¡± Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. ¡°Take a lemon and use it to cure scurvy?¡± She shook her head. ¡°You need to learn some sayings¡­¡± Nathariel grumbled. ¡°Well, you know what I mean.¡± He tapped the panel with his fingers. ¡°We¡¯ll find you some runestones, and you¡¯ll be able to trigger their effects. Without having to tune your body to specifically use them.¡± He turned it over, revealing a set of holes drilled into the bottom. ¡°We¡¯ll feed some starsteel through here, and it¡¯ll become part of your spirit system.¡± ¡°What can I do with the runestones?¡± Nathariel spread his arms. ¡°Many things. There are thousands of runes in Ghusd¨¹l, the dwarven tongue. They¡¯re logograms, truly, not letters. Each has a different effect when activated, and if you chain three together? I can¡¯t promise you¡¯ll find anything terribly powerful, but you might find something that gives you an edge.¡± Vayra smiled at the possibility, and her fingers began to jitter. She spent another two days Vayra using her Arcara to seal the stump on her bicep and ensure the arm was connected to her body. Once Nathariel and Mr. Spawlding gave their approval, she started to layer the wooden panels onto the arm too. A few needed to be carved down and trimmed to fit, and she ensured that she didn¡¯t screw them in too tightly, or she might need help to get them off if the arm needed repairs. And she was getting tired of feeling helpless. When she came to the wrist, she paused. ¡°Nathariel?¡± she asked, disrupting the God-heir from cleaning up the mess they had made on the gun deck. Once he turned around, she said, ¡°My bracer.¡± She only had one left; the other was on her severed arm in the Narvelpeare facility, and it had probably been devoured by the lava in the collapsing building by now. ¡°I can still use it, right?¡± ¡°On your flesh-and-blood arm, sure,¡± he replied. ¡°Not on the other?¡± ¡°It will make it much harder to control the thin wires and coils if you have a massive block of the same material strapped on overtop.¡± She nodded. There was only one bracer left, so¡­that was alright, she supposed. Acceptable. She opened her mouth, about to ask Nathariel to help instruct her on how to connect her body¡¯s Arcara channels to the wires, when a bell began to ring. Moments later, a sailor peered down into the gun deck and yelled, ¡°We¡¯re approaching Thronehome!¡± Controlling the leg could come later. Vayra pushed herself up using the crutch, then hobbled towards the stairs. Nathariel inhaled sharply. ¡°Time to negotiate with the Order, I suppose¡­¡± Chapter 60 - Return to Thronehome The Harmony entered the atmosphere of Thronehome at a leisurely pace, but by the time they had made it down to the planetary ocean, Vayra had only barely managed to hop up to the quarterdeck. She swung her left leg up a step. It was like locking her knee in place and trying to raise her leg to her chest. She just wasn¡¯t flexible enough. When she finally made it up to the quarterdeck, she lingered just behind the front railing, watching the ship prepare to enter the harbour. Already, the crew was furling up most of the sails, and the sailors at the prow were waiting to drop the anchors. They passed the barge and checked in with the harbourmaster, which meant that, at any moment, the Order of Balance would be onto them. She looked at Nathariel, who stood just beside the wheel hub. The coxswain looked at him nervously, but kept his lips pressed tight together. Nathariel would have nothing to worry about when it came to the members of the Order. It was Glade who Vayra was more concerned about. Under Nathariel¡¯s instruction, he had broken through to Mate, the lowest stage of magic. She wasn¡¯t sure how that stacked up against other members of the Order, but if even the Elders only made it Quartermaster, she suspected it had to be pretty good. Maybe they¡¯d go easy on him. The Harmony slipped into a berth in the military harbours. Bags of straw pressed against its hull, and the dockhands stretched a gangway across to the deck. ¡°The Order knows we¡¯ve come back,¡± Pels said. ¡°We should probably wait for them. I don¡¯t need to be in any more trouble than I¡¯m already in¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need a carriage, anyways,¡± Vayra said. She looked down the wharf, then up the other direction, but she didn¡¯t see anything that looked like an Order carriage. Not yet. Glade sprinted up the quarterdeck stairs two at a time, then stepped over to Vayra and paused beside her. ¡°There is a high chance that there will be worse consequences for my actions than for Pels¡¯s.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll vouch for you,¡± she said. ¡°You only came along to make sure I was safe. Doing your duty.¡± He nodded slowly, then whispered, ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Now¡­I should probably make my way down to the main deck before the Order arrives, so we don¡¯t leave them waiting as I try to struggle down the stairs.¡± Vayra shifted, pushing her crutch back underneath her, then began to stutter back towards the quarterdeck stairs. At this rate, she shouldn¡¯t have even climbed up them. ¡°By the Streamfather, I feel like an old woman¡­¡± ¡°At least you do not sound like one,¡± Glade told her. ¡°Minor relief.¡± ¡°It will get better, I hope. At least you will be able to socket runestones onto your hand sooner than later.¡± By the time they arrived at the Gray Council¡¯s meeting chamber, it was evening, and the sun was setting over the sprawling towers of Thronehome. A pair of Order Adepts hauled the heavy doors open, allowing Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel to step into the center of the chamber. All of the Elders sat around the table, though they had taken away the seats at one end of the table so that all three of them could stand and face the Elders. Vayra leaned her crutch against the table. As soon as the chamber¡¯s doors began to close behind her, she opened her mouth, ready to vouch for Nathariel and Glade. All of the Elders¡¯ hands rested on their swords, and she knew they expected a fight. Nathariel glared at them, however, and they all backed away. Before Vayra could speak, one of the Elders (Miin, if she recalled) slapped his hand down on the table, and said, ¡°You, Mediator, put yourself in incredible danger! You threatened the destruction of the galaxy, and for what?¡± Vayra backed away. Her first, instinctive response wouldn¡¯t have been measured, and so she slammed her lips shut. Without her crutch, she stumbled, but she thrust her flesh-and-blood leg back to catch herself and stop herself from tumbling back. Admittedly, she had not been expecting them to be angry at her first. When she made it back to the table, she said, ¡°I needed a teacher who could help me advance. The Order doesn¡¯t have all the resources it used to, nor does Velaydia as a whole. To become a proper Mediator, to overcome the bottleneck I encountered, I needed to visit Nathariel. He was the only chance I had. You all made it incredibly clear how bad it would be to have a spiritually ¡®lame¡¯ Mediator.¡± ¡°And now you¡¯re lame in other ways,¡± said the dwarven Elder. Nathariel harrumphed, then approached the table. ¡°She will overcome it with my help.¡± He set his hands on the table. They had been bound together by iron shackles, but he lifted them with ease, and whenever they clinked, he snorted with amusement. ¡°She was a promising disciple, and she still is.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Elder Miin scowled. ¡°You presume to teach¡ª¡± ¡°That will be her choice, not yours, Elder.¡± They remained silent for a few seconds. Vayra leaned on the table with both her arms. Her prosthetic elbow nearly buckled, but she compensated for it by putting more strength into her left arm. ¡°Nathariel must go free,¡± Vayra said. ¡°He helped me, and he saved me. And if I¡¯m going to do my duty, I need a proper teacher.¡± ¡°He is not a bad man,¡± Glade added. ¡°Whatever your past disagreements are, we need to put them aside. This is for the good of the galaxy. None of you were alive when he wronged you, if he ever did.¡± ¡°I seem to recall them hunting me because I was a potential threat,¡± Nathariel muttered, ¡°not because I had truly done anything wrong.¡± Vayra sighed, then said, ¡°The point remains. Nathariel helped me. He doesn¡¯t like God-heirs, and he wants to pass on his teachings to two of his disciples.¡± ¡°Two?¡± Elder Miin inquired. ¡°He agreed that he would teach me, as well,¡± Glade told them. ¡°I mean no offense to any of the honoured Elders gathered here, but under Nathariel¡¯s instructions, I advanced to Mate and established a domain over the sword itself.¡± ¡°And, after leaving the Order without so much as a note, you presume to return, with a new master, and accept our sympathies?¡± ¡°He has not abandoned the ways of the Order,¡± said another Elder. ¡°He did his duty in assisting the Mediator, and helping ensure her safety. All while improving himself.¡± ¡°In these times, we need to take all the help we can get,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°If that means allowing Nathariel to instruct one of our most promising disciples and raise him beyond what we ever could, I say we allow such an opportunity.¡± She looked over at Elder Miin and said, ¡°Honoured Elder Eman-Fa would have stepped back and allowed Glade to train under a willing Admiral.¡± Elder Miin¡¯s face reddened, and he looked as though he was about to argue. But then, he took one glance at Nathariel, and whispered, ¡°I concede. The Admiral is a better instructor for them both.¡± Then, he raised a finger, and added, ¡°But neither of their transgressions should go unpunished. The Mediator should not have left, and Mr. Arvitir should not have left without so much as trying to stop her.¡± ¡°He tried to talk me out of it,¡± Vayra said, ¡°and I didn¡¯t listen.¡± ¡°I will submit a punishment if it means I am allowed to stay in the Order,¡± Glade said. ¡°Or, if it means I am allowed to train with Mr. Layre.¡± For a few minutes, the Gray Council discussed the punishment of Glade. They decided that, for a week, he would be mandated to lug water from the coast to the temple fountains with the other lowly disciples, and that it would be punishment enough for his transgressions. Once Glade¡¯s punishment was settled, Vayra said, ¡°Now¡­the bounty hunters will still be after me. There will be plenty of people after me. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s wise for me to stay on Thronehome for an extended period of time.¡± The council murmured in agreement. One of the Elders of the far side of the table said, ¡°I am certain we could find a remote world for you to train¡ªuntil you are needed on the Line of Battle to dispose of God-heirs.¡± ¡°You will depart in a week,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°And Glade will travel with you once his punishment is served. Until then, remain in the city. We will have our surgeons tend to your wounds, to ensure that you are not at risk and that there is no lasting spiritual damage to your body.¡± Vayra bowed her head. The council discussed a few more menial, minor points, before finally dismissing the three. Nathariel twisted his hands and chuckled, breaking the shackles off without so much as a grunt of exertion. The Order Adepts guarding the chamber opened the doors, allowing the guests to leave. Vayra stepped into the hallway outside and hobbled along. Glade and Nathariel matched her pace, but she only took a few steps before pausing at one of the windows. The last dregs of sunlight shone through the city smog, and eventually, they reached the windows. She was about to keep walking, when Nathariel said, ¡°You never told anyone if you wanted to continue your training with me.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Vayra turned slowly in a circle, her leg trailing behind her. ¡°I thought it was implied.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t get any special treatment just because you¡¯re the Mediator¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t expect any.¡± ¡°And you must do your duty. No running off to fight Karmion because you get a little angry at him. You must promise me to have restraint, and to trust in your friends.¡± ¡°I promise, sir.¡± ¡°Then I will be your teacher, and you will be my disciple.¡± He glanced at Glade. ¡°One of them. And we all have a lot of work to do.¡± Karmion paced across his map room. Above him hung an enormous golden spiral. Tiny specks glimmered in the candlelight, and tendrils of brass connected them all. The galaxy. Servants climbed up on step ladders to paint the tiny orbs the colours of planets. Soon, it would all be his. ¡°I need the Mediator,¡± he grumbled, adjusting his hat. The plume of magically-suspended water sloshed. ¡°I need her now. If the report is right, she¡¯ll have a teacher. Nilsenir¡¯s hunters aren¡¯t working fast enough.¡± A quill scratched against parchment, recording his words. He glanced over his shoulder at his aide, Mr. Lercer. Halfway through writing a sentence, the mortal man looked up and adjusted his glasses. ¡°Your excellency, if you took action yourself, it would make your empire look weak, and¡­regrettably, you as well. A God afraid of a little girl from a barely-heard-of Velaydian planet?¡± ¡°I am aware.¡± Karmion stopped and looked up at the enormous map. He adjusted the lapels of his coat, then took one more step back. All around the golden galactic map was a vast, empty plain. Who knew what lurked outside their Streams and stars? He needed to assert absolute dominance, and he needed to do it now. But it wasn¡¯t worth tearing apart his empire from the inside out. ¡°I have something in mind. It should help us avoid all this¡­honour nonsense. Follow me, please¡­¡± To be continued¡­ [End of Volume 2] Chapter 1: Emissaries [Volume 3] The Gathering of Emissaries only happened once every Mascant year, and the topic of discussion this year was non-negotiable: now that news of the death of Talock, God of Crops, was spreading, they had to do something about his considerable estate. And the matter of his Godhood. ¡°You and your follower-clans made sure he had no living heirs,¡± said Vallor, God of Ships. He was looking directly at Karmion while he spoke, hands pressed tight against the round table. It was built from sturdy stone, carved into the top of Mascant¡¯s only visible mountain peak, but an Emissary could still crush it with a spare thought or an accidental flick. ¡°At least, no one at the peak of Grand Admiral, who could be strong enough to accept the Godhood and join us.¡± Karmion rose from his chair, carefully controlling his movements. He had to look regal and imperial at all times, even before this council of his own brothers and sisters¡ªand a few nieces and nephews. There were fifteen of them, now, but most sat at the edges of the table, keeping their heads down. ¡°Vallor, you have reminded me of this for every meeting these past eighty years,¡± Karmion said, speaking slowly and keeping his voice controlled. Every intonation, every inflection, was intentional. ¡°It was never a problem, and it will not be a problem now.¡± ¡°Not a problem?¡± Brann¨²l exclaimed. She rose from her chair abruptly, sending it skidding across the polished stone floor. Her spirit flared, and a gale of wind swirled around her for just a moment¡ªfitting for the Goddess of Wind. ¡°His Godhood is just¡­swirling around in the Stream, unclaimed and undecided. Anyone could snatch it up, and anyone could take it.¡± She paused for a few seconds, then whispered, ¡°What if a Velaydian got ahold of it?¡± ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Karmion asserted. ¡°We, and only we, the successors of the Streamfather, will control who claims it. There is no one in Velaydia powerful enough to take in a Godhood, and even if there was, they alone could not assert enough authority over the Stream to grant it.¡± ¡°The Mediator?¡± Vallor suggested. ¡°They have her, now.¡± Karmion turned his head to the left, where Nilsenir, God of Piracy, sat awfully silent¡ªsave for his hook hand scratching against the surface of the table. Karmion said, ¡°Report, Nilsenir. Tell them how strong the Mediator is.¡± The man was silent for a few moments, before finally saying, ¡°She¡¯s likely nearing the peak of Master. At her rate of advancement, she¡¯ll be through the three stages of Lieutenant, and at Captain by the end of the year.¡± ¡°Captain¡ªif she doesn¡¯t get bottlenecked again,¡± said Brann¨²l. ¡°When she reaches the tip of the Lieutenants, she¡¯ll need more than just cycling techniques and elixirs to push through to the flag officers realm¡­she, and my own daughter, does not have the insight to make the leap.¡± Brann¨²l¡¯s own daughter¡ªthat had to be Phason¨¦. ¡°I question whether you are mentally fit for this sort of discussion, Wind,¡± said Vallor. ¡°I came to terms with what would happen to my son and daughter long ago,¡± she snapped. ¡°Kill them outright, if you want, and cycle through the Mediators until it comes back to one of us.¡± ¡°That is a possibility,¡± said Karmion. ¡°If we could guarantee who would become the Mediator next, and if the mortal soul inhabited would be at all favourable to our cause.¡± ¡°The odds are in our favour.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need odds!¡± Karmion said, purposefully raising his voice. The windows at the edge of the chamber rattled and shook, distorting his vision of the city outside. The sun set behind wood and stone skyscrapers, which towered over the Galactic Assembly¡ªwhere they currently were meeting. ¡°We are Gods, and we will do as we please,¡± Karmion continued, keeping his voice softer. ¡°We will not be bound by odds, nor a mortal king or a pitiful Mediator.¡± ¡°Yet you¡¯re afraid to kill her,¡± said Pallis, Goddess of the Sun Cycle. She dipped her head respectfully, then slumped back into her seat. ¡°Apologies, Elder Brother.¡± ¡°If any of you would like to lower yourselves and wipe that little orange-hair off the map, then be my guest,¡± Karmion said, fully anticipating how their response would go. For good measure, though, he added, ¡°And watch how your followers disperse, how your strongholds crumble, how your sects dissolve. None will obey a God who thought that a street rat¡ªwho couldn¡¯t cultivate up until a half-year ago¡ªwas a worthy opponent. We have empires to maintain. Me more than most.¡± Vallor stayed silent for a few seconds afterwards, until he finally said, ¡°Point taken.¡± ¡°Whatever we do, we must be subtle,¡± Karmion said. ¡°With the dissolution of Talock¡¯s estate, his Sanctuary will be a target of all seeking power.¡± ¡°What did you do to my son¡¯s Sanctuary?¡± Brann¨²l demanded. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°It was just this morning, actually.¡± Karmion reached up and adjusted his hat. The plume of suspended water sloshed around a little before settling. ¡°I put out the decree: Harvest Sanctuary is available to anyone looking for advancement resources, or to plunder and rearrange the wealth of Talock. His refinement centers, his high-grade spirit grains, all of his arcane-attuned produce¡ªit¡¯s up for the taking.¡± Brann¨²l¡¯s face cycled through confusion, fear, and then to anger. ¡°You¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not yours to control. It¡¯s mine.¡± Karmion crossed his arms and marched around the table to her. ¡°The strong prevail: it¡¯s universal law. His farmworld will be a crucible for the future¡¯s best warriors. Those who can claim the Harvest Sanctuary¡¯s resources are the ones who deserve them.¡± Brann¨²l let out a sigh, which was enough to gust all of the scattered papers off the table. ¡°Remember, sister,¡± Karmion said. ¡°Your following is¡­significantly diminished, as of late. It would be a great shame if the Order of Balance managed to assassinate you in your sleep, or if an unfortunate accident destroyed your ship while you were aboard.¡± ¡°No one would believe it,¡± she snapped. ¡°I¡¯ve put many lies to the papers.¡± Karmion shrugged. ¡°We are emperors, now, and you are my vassals. You¡¯d better act like it.¡± He released a slight bit of the tether he kept around his core, unveiling a sliver of its weight. It was stronger than all the other Emissaries gathered, and they would be able to tell that much. It was as close to holding a musket to their heads as he could get. Vallor blinked a few times, trying¡ªand failing¡ªto look unfazed. ¡°And what about Talock¡¯s Godhood, then?¡± ¡°In six months¡¯ time, I will hold a tournament,¡± Karmion said, marching back to his seat. ¡°It should be about the same time as the Mascant solstice, and it will fall in line with the old Skyclash tournament.¡± He pulled out his chair and dropped himself back down. ¡°Send your best children¡ªbut those not in line for your own Godhoods. The victor will have Talock¡¯s authority and power, and they will ascend to join us.¡± ¡°If this is co-opting the Skyclash,¡± said Nolla, Goddess of the Season Cycle, ¡°will anyone still be allowed to join?¡± ¡°Correct,¡± Karmion confirmed. ¡°Assuming they meet the tournament qualification restrictions.¡± ¡°But that could put a Godhood outside the direct family!¡± ¡°And?¡± Karmion demanded. ¡°If one wins the tournament, one is worthy enough to claim the title. I should welcome a little power and spine into our pantheon for a change.¡± ¡°How can we be certain you won¡¯t tamper with it?¡± Nilsenir asked. ¡°Ensure one of your own sons or daughters won, for one thing.¡± Fitting for the pirate to think of ways to tamper with the tournament. ¡°Because we will direct our authority and seal a soul pact right now,¡± Karmion stated. ¡°And no matter what, whoever wins will receive the Godhood.¡± ¡°If anyone can enter, the Godhood could go to a Velaydian,¡± Brann¨²l warned. ¡°You¡¯d make my son and daughter¡¯s sacrifices in vain?¡± ¡°The tournament will only be open to Captain-stage contestants or higher,¡± Karmion stated. ¡°And currently, no one in Velaydia has such power.¡± At that, Karmion couldn¡¯t help but let a little bitterness seep into his voice. With how magically weak Velaydia was, they should have fallen by now. They should have fallen decades ago. But few god-heirs would ever lower themselves by travelling to the front lines and battling with mortals, and those who did weren¡¯t strong enough to sway the war. ¡°And,¡± he continued, ¡°if the Mediator is your concern, she will not be powerful enough in time to be eligible for the tournament¡ªby Nilsenir¡¯s estimates.¡± Which, admittedly, wasn¡¯t the best place to put his faith. But he had a half-year of leeway, and that would have to be plenty. ¡°Once we direct our authority and sign the soul pact, the Godhood will be sealed,¡± Karmion finished. ¡°There will be no more troubles.¡± Karmion was the first of the Emissaries out of the meeting room, and, as planned, he met one of his children outside. Larra had quickly become one of his favourites, and he hadn¡¯t been shy about letting her know that. She had a singularly-focussed mind, and her performance had been successful enough to earn her a large portion of the advancement resources he could spare. After all, she had personally assassinated a large portion of Talock¡¯s heirs and scattered them to the wind. She was used to punching up above her weight¡ªthough there was little that was actually above her weight. She was nearly as tall as Karmion, and appeared in her mid-thirties. She had crafted a bulky form, perfect for smashing through most anything, and wore a heavy coat as if to prove it. ¡°I have a task for you,¡± Karmion told her. ¡°Walk with me.¡± They marched down along the hallways of the Galactic Assembly, skirting the main atrium where the Assemblymen met and discussed unimportant but necessary galactic policy¡ªright now, so late in the evening, it was empty. No one would hear them talk. ¡°I need you to travel to Harvest Sanctuary,¡± he told her. ¡°I am almost certain you will find the Mediator there. Bring her to me.¡± ¡°She¡¯s a Master,¡± Larra said flatly. ¡°She will become a Third Lieutenant soon, as I understand it.¡± Karmion paused as they rounded a corner, just to make sure there were no guards or straggling Assemblymen who might hear the conversation. ¡°And you¡¯re a Captain. It should be no issue for you.¡± ¡°What about Nilsenir¡¯s hunters?¡± ¡°By all accounts, they have failed me. But he¡¯s welcome to keep trying; I won¡¯t stop him if he manages to bring her to me on a silver platter.¡± Larra didn¡¯t say anything for a few moments. She adjusted her hat¡ªa tricorn almost identical to Karmion¡¯s¡ªand then pulled on the tails of her coat. ¡°If you command me, it will be done.¡± ¡°Your status will not be harmed by this,¡± Karmion said. ¡°Unless, of course, you fail.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t fail.¡± ¡°Others have said the exact same thing. Including other Captains. But you¡¯re my master of hitting above your weight¡ªso do what you¡¯re best at. Win at whatever cost.¡± Chapter 2: Kallo VI [Volume 3] Vayra deflected a sword to the side, then stepped to the side to avoid a lunge. Her foot slipped, and she stumbled back towards the edge of a cliff. Ten feet from the edge. Then nine. She caught herself, planting her prosthetic leg down in the grassy plateau. The grass, however, was wet. Her leg slipped, and she fell flat on her stomach. Kallo VI. A rural planet a few days¡¯ sail from Thronehome, covered almost exclusively in green fields, steep cliffs, and waterfalls. The skies were filled with an orange gas giant, and that was about all there was to it. Certainly no one around to see her. The silver sword swished down towards her head. She rolled to the side, then pushed herself up with both arms. Her mechanical arm required a surge of Arcara. She pushed the magic energy through in an uncontrolled burst, and the starsteel wires uncoiled. The arm extended, pushing her up and rolling her over to the side far faster than she had intended. A burst of blue sparks spewed out of the gaps in between the wood panels. Where the starsteel wires joined with the stump of her bicep, heat seared her skin. The sword came down towards her head again, but she raised her flesh-and-blood arm and her bracer, again deflecting the blade off to the side. Swinging her legs, she tried to pull herself back to her feet, but her mechanical leg didn¡¯t respond to the surges of Arcara like she anticipated. She had to guide each filament individually, and sometimes, the Arcara didn¡¯t work. ¡®Roll again!¡¯ Phason¨¦ commanded. ¡®To your left. Go, now!¡¯ Vayra obeyed her bound Goddess¡¯ command, but instead of rolling, she simply pushed with her flesh arm, shifting her upper body just to the left. The sword stopped before it would have hit her, but she struck the blade with the back of her bracer anyway, pushing it all the way into the dirt. With her opponent¡¯s blade trapped, she kipped up to her feet properly and spun around. ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about hitting me,¡± she hissed. In response, her opponent lunged, thrusting the blade at her gut. She dove back the other direction, snatching up a wooden scythe from the ground¡ªwhere she¡¯d dropped it a few minutes ago. Her hands ran down the smooth wood haft, finding their place. Even though it was a real, physically-manifested scythe, she still gave Phason¨¦ control of her right hand. It was her mechanical hand, but that didn¡¯t seem to matter to Phason¨¦. The Goddess had infinitely better Arcara control than Vayra herself did. Phason¨¦ didn¡¯t conjure a scythe, but she still swung like she was using it¡ªlike they were working together to use Phason¨¦¡¯s weapon. That was how they had learned to use the weapon, after all. ¡®Now, let¡¯s take him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I¡¯m on it,¡± she whispered to the Goddess. ¡°Less talk, more swing.¡± Without a word, her opponent, Glade pounced back into action, unleashing a flurry-pattern of sword swipes. His blade swished through the air like a feather, and the way he spun it made it look like it was as light as one, too. She parried each swipe with the haft of the training scythe, knocking the silver sword to the side or down towards the ground. With Phason¨¦ in control of her prosthetic arm, Vayra could match Glade for speed. She caught each of his swings before it got anywhere near her. She never blocked head-on, or he¡¯d cut right through the scythe¡¯s haft. But he wasn¡¯t using any Arcara or mana. Vayra had been spending it all afternoon to lend Phason¨¦ an arm or unleash Starlight Palms¡ªand to cycle Arcara to her prosthetic leg and arm as she needed it. She might have had a well of mana magnitudes bigger than Glade did, but he wasn¡¯t using any. That just meant she had to win sooner than later. She hoisted the scythe up, and the next time he swung, she and Phason¨¦ wrapped the scythe¡¯s plain head around the tip of Glade¡¯s sword. They pulled to the side, wrenching his sword in the same direction. With his upper body exposed, she lashed out and struck him in the chest with the haft of the scythe. He stumbled back, but turned his momentum into a spin and brought the tip of his sword back up. Vayra had better reach, though, and she¡¯d given herself distance to use it. She shifted her grip lower on the scythe, keeping the blade aimed at Glade the whole time. He stepped back again. ¡°No holding back,¡± Vayra reminded him. ¡°Short of cutting my head off, I¡¯ll heal.¡± ¡°Watch your throat, too,¡± he said, locking eyes with her. Then he darted to the side, raising his sword for an overhead swipe. Vayra tried to match his footwork and circle in the opposite direction, but her mechanical leg wasn¡¯t as fast as she needed it to be. It tangled with her real leg, and she tripped. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Glade didn¡¯t stop. Good. She drew starlight out of the scarf Phason¨¦ had given her. Even if the climate of Kallo VI was well above temperate, Vayra needed the scarf to fuel her magical techniques. As soon as Glade¡¯s sword swished down towards her, she fired a Starlight Palm upwards, creating a blast of energy and force that pushed his blade back in the opposite direction. ¡°Phason¨¦?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°How¡¯s our mana doing?¡± It couldn¡¯t have been very high, because her mouth was parched, and specks were whirling in front of her vision. ¡®You have a little sliver of your total capacity left. Not even a sixteenth left, and quickly depleting.¡¯ Enough to use a Brace technique. While Glade stumbled back, Vayra strengthened her left arm with starlight-infused Arcara. She jumped back to her feet and grabbed the edge of his sword. The Brace technique made her arm glow, almost like Phason¨¦ had taken it over, except the light stayed inside her flesh. Her enhanced grip was enough to stop his sword in its tracks. He tried to pull away, but she didn¡¯t let the weapon slide. Then the Bracing faded. With a sputter, the white glow left her arm, and Phason¨¦¡¯s presence evaporated, rescinding control of the prosthetic arm as well. Her mana had been sucked dry. No mana meant no Arcara control. No Arcara control meant her mechanical limbs were as good as sticks. But her prosthetics were hard, and they didn¡¯t hurt when she hit things with them. She directed her stump of an arm at Glade, dragging the prosthetic along with it, and struck him in the shoulder, sending him skittering a few steps to the side. He took the sword with him. It slid out of Vayra¡¯s hand, slicing a thin line down her palm. She hissed in shock, but she should have expected that. He brought his blade all the way up, then set it against her neck. But she hadn¡¯t been doing nothing, either. By the time he had his sword up, she had raised the training scythe with her real hand, holding the tip up to his neck. ¡°Careful,¡± Glade intoned. ¡°I wasn¡¯t that close to hitting you, was I?¡± Vayra asked. The edges of her vision were starting to blur¡ªwhich she blamed on dehydration¡ªand a headache split the front of her mind in two, like someone had driven a wedge into her forehead. ¡°The cliff, Vayra,¡± Glade said. She leaned away from his sword, then looked down. They were only a step away from the edge of the cliff. ¡°Ah, yes¡­¡± She cleared her throat, but it didn¡¯t stop her cheeks from reddening. Glade raised his free hand, then lifted his sword away from her neck. ¡°Shall we call it a tie?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good with that, yeah.¡± She pulled her scythe away, then took a few quick steps away from the edge of the cliff. Admittedly, she would have preferred a resounding victory over him. But she didn¡¯t say that out loud. ¡°I am sorry about your hand,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s just part of sparring with real weapons,¡± she said, wiping her hand on her short breeches. With how hard Nathariel was pushing them both, they had ended every day for the past two months drenched in sweat¡ªeven if she only wore shorts and a chest wrap. ¡°It¡¯ll heal soon enough.¡± Glade patted his shorts as well, panting. He only wore a thin sash across his chest to hold up his scabbard. ¡°I must apologize, still¡ªmy oath strictly forbids harming¡ª¡± ¡°I take it you two are done, then?¡± Vayra and Glade both spun to face away from the cliffs. Nathariel trotted closer to them on the back of a horse. He wore a formal green coat and a tricorn hat, and carried his spear in the saddle like it was a musket. ¡°Glade, you are relying too much on your sword,¡± Nathariel stated. ¡°You are skilled, yes, but that alone will not carry you. If you had used your Silverbrand Edge, you would have cut through Vayra¡¯s Starlight Palm. You are practically a sword God-heir, now. Under my watch, I will need you to treat yourself like one. You have a technique or two, so use them.¡± The Silverbrand Edge, as Vayra had learned, was what they were calling the basic sword technique Glade knew¡ªwhich, according to Captain Pels and the crew of the Harmony, was what he had deployed against the bounty hunter a month ago on Muspellar. It created a filament of sword-aspect Arcara along the edge of the blade, sharp enough to help him cut through most objects and other magical techniques. ¡°And Vayra,¡± Nathariel said, ¡°you are too reliant on your magic, to the point that you¡¯re losing focus of your surroundings. Your Brace techniques won¡¯t do you any good if you don¡¯t have the skill to deploy their strength. You should have crushed Glade, but you didn¡¯t.¡± She wanted to say that she only lost because she had run out of mana, but that wasn¡¯t a good excuse, and she knew it. Besides, Glade still had a nearly fifty-fifty win rate in their sparring matches¡ªeven when she hadn¡¯t run out of mana. ¡°Your weak control of the prosthetic limbs proves as well that your Arcara control is not yet where it needs to be,¡± he added. ¡°We¡¯ll keep working at it, but that can come tomorrow. For the rest of the day, we¡¯ll rest and recover.¡± He plucked a waterskin off the side of his saddle and tossed it to her. ¡°Come along, now.¡± He clicked his tongue, turning his horse away. But, just as he turned around, ready to ride back along the plateau to the little village where they were resting, he stopped. After a few seconds of squinting, Vayra spotted a distant rider trotting along the plateau towards them. ¡°Order of Balance,¡± Nathariel said. After a half-minute, Vayra finally saw the woman¡¯s black coat and white hair. At least it wasn¡¯t anyone looking to cause problems. She had to admit, the peace of Kallo VI was a welcome change. ¡°Apologies for the short notice!¡± the woman called. Judging by the rank stripes on her coat¡¯s lapel, she was an Order Adept. ¡°What is it?¡± Nathariel asked gruffly. It didn¡¯t sound like he was putting any effort into his words, but his voice boomed across the plateau like a cannon. ¡°Apologies, but your presences have been requested for an urgent meeting in Riverleech. Something important is happening at the fort, and Elder Gheita is there.¡± Vayra groaned. Her thoughts had jinxed the peace. Chapter 3: Show of Force [Volume 3] Riverleech was the largest town on Kallo VI, which wasn¡¯t saying much. It was the planet¡¯s port city, and the closest city to the Stream, so naturally, it was the largest. Its buildings were made of beige sandstone with rusting copper roofs. Vines climbed up their walls, and the cobblestone streets were filled with weeds. Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel rode into the town on horses, trailing close behind the Order of Balance Adept. She led them through alleys until they reached the main thoroughfare. It was a broad street filled with civilians and wagons, and nearly everyone was doing something. Only a few of them even looked up. It reminded Vayra of Tavelle. Just¡­much smaller. A platoon of Redmarines marched down the street in the opposite direction, and some turned to face Vayra. They bowed their heads and nodded. Even out here, word of her arrival had spread. People had managed to deduce who she was by now, but she didn¡¯t exactly blend in. Even a plain cloak didn¡¯t do much good to hide her hair and prosthetics. There hadn¡¯t even been time to change out of her training attire. That meant they would have to move on from this planet, soon. But not today. Supposedly, something important was happening, even though the Adept hadn¡¯t been keen on elaboration. At the end of the main thoroughfare was the Kallo Royal Palace: a simple box built of the same materials as the rest of the city. But, it was taller and wider than everything else, and even if the planet¡¯s ancient royalty had evolved into representatives in the Velaydian Parliament, it still made a perfect administration center. They rode their horses up to the palace¡¯s front terrace and dismounted, then handed the reins off to a few Redmarine palace guards. The Adept led them inside the building. The old gates had been propper open, exposing an entrance vestibule with hundreds of marble statues lining it to the open air. They walked down the center aisle to a staircase, then took it up a few flights. After a minute or two of winding and turning, they arrived at the meeting room. It was a chamber with a tall roof, but not much to fill it¡ªexcept for a table, a few seats, and a troop of meeting attendees. Light filtered in through tall windows, and a Redmarine was positioned in every corner, each armed with a musket. Only Elder Gheita and a few yellow-coated Royal Navy admirals had attended in person. The rest were formed out of watery statues¡ªcolourless imitations of what they might otherwise look like. It was Arcara-soaked water; it glimmered with shimmering blue specks. The constructs were ancient, probably built by a God-heir of Karmion himself. But they worked to host large meetings across vast swaths of space. The Adept guided Vayra, Nathariel, and Glade up to a simple wooden platform, then poured a bucket of Stream water on it. Runes lit up along the wood, along with a few starsteel wires. ¡°You are connected,¡± the Adept said. ¡°The meeting can now begin.¡± Elder Gheita nodded, then told the rest of the gathered water statues the same thing. Around the table, Vayra noticed most of the Elders of the Gray Council, as well as King Tallerion and a few Redmarine generals. King Tallerion was the next to speak. ¡°The situation, Mediator, is this: Karmion is opening up a tournament to claim the Godhood of Talock.¡± For the next few minutes, King Tallerion explained in detail what the God of the Sea was planning¡ªhow he had opened up Talock¡¯s Harvest Sanctuary homeworld, allowing all sorts of people from across the galaxy to loot it¡ªall in preparation for the tournament. ¡°You want Vayra to enter the Skyclash tournament?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°I mean no offense to her, but it is incredibly unlikely that she will hit Second Lieutenant by the time the tournament, let alone Captain.¡± ¡°And that is why she must reap the loot of Harvest Sanctuary,¡± said one of the Order of Balance Elders. That, Vayra decided, was an abrupt shift. Only weeks ago, they had reprimanded her for travelling to Muspellar without permission. ¡®Harvest Sanctuary is firmly in Elderworld territory,¡¯ Phason¨¦ confirmed. ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong,¡± Vayra said aloud, ¡°but this sounds incredibly dangerous.¡± ¡°You would be correct,¡± Elder Miin, sitting at the far end of the table, said. He glanced nervously at King Tallerion. ¡°But considering the circumstances, your proven track record¡­and that you will have an Admiral with you, the risks should be mitigated.¡± Vayra glanced at Tallerion as well. ¡°So¡­what¡¯s the political advantage of this, then, your majesty?¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. He snorted, then said, ¡°Nothing internal, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re insinuating. I see an opportunity to help our star-nation. I have been raised and trained to take it.¡± ¡°Opportunity?¡± Nathariel demanded. ¡°To rid the Elderworlds of yet another of their Gods, and bring such power to the fight on our side. We would not squander such power: we would deploy a God on the Line of Battle immediately.¡± Vayra shifted her weight side to side. She looked at Nathariel and Glade, trying to gauge their reactions. They said nothing. ¡°There are hundreds of star systems on the Line of Battle, honoured Mediator,¡± Tallerion said. ¡°Many of them are choosing where to place their allegiance, and many are looking to the Skyclash tournament for decision-making guidance. This is our chance to prove our strength. If we¡­managed to enroll the Mediator, and say, some of our top Order disciples and Adepts into the tournament, we may be able to sway the outcome of this war. Provided that you do very well.¡± ¡°What does the Order think about this?¡± she asked. ¡°Candidly, we are not the most pleased,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°But we have also come to an understanding with the King, Parliament, and military. So long as you travel with Nathariel and a squadron of our greatest Adepts, we will allow it.¡± ¡°Now, now, wait a minute.¡± Nathariel raised a finger and leaned forwards. ¡°You never gave me any say in this, and who says I want to work with any of your Adepts? I know you all would sooner stab me in the back than entrust me with a mission like this. And even if the Gray Council has condoned it, how can I say your Adepts haven¡¯t?¡± ¡°Is there any way they could kill you?¡± asked an elder who Vayra didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°I doubt it, but I don¡¯t want to wake up in my sleep with a horde of Adepts leaning over me, their swords drawn, ready to slit my throat.¡± ¡®Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ interjected, only audible inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®Your only chance at advancing to Captain in time for the tournament is to use the resources of my brother¡¯s homeworld. And even then, it¡¯s a long shot. Knowing what we now know, you need to get there as soon as possible. This bickering needs to end.¡¯ Vayra held up her hands and stepped to the edge of the little wooden platform. ¡°Let¡¯s just hold on a minute. Nathariel, the Order claims they trust you. I know I trust you. If they betray you, they¡¯ll also be betraying me and violating their oaths. That should be enough to keep them in line, right?¡± ¡°Mayhaps,¡± Nathariel said. ¡®Tell them that I know my way around the planet, too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. Vayra did. Then, she added, ¡°If it makes you feel any more comfortable, that is. I mean, she¡¯s Talock¡¯s sister. If she can¡¯t guide me, then I don¡¯t really think anyone can. Though¡­before we left, I¡¯d appreciate it if anyone could lend us some maps of the planet¡¯s surface.¡± ¡°It will be done, Mediator,¡± an Admiral said. ¡°Alrighty, now, uh, one last question,¡± Vayra said. Nathariel glanced at her curiously, and most of the other heads of the gathered people turned as well. ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m the Mediator. I don¡¯t need the strength of a God. Or, technically, I already have the strength of a God, right? Considering Phason¨¦ is stuck inside me.¡± ¡®Slow down when you¡¯re speaking,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®It makes you sound childish¡­¡¯ Sorry, Vayra thought. The Elders of the Gray Council all shared a glance with each other, then, one, who Vayra could not name (nor make out any really distinct features of through the water projection), explained, ¡°We do not know what would happen. No Mediator has ever absorbed a Godhood before, and it may not be possible.¡± ¡®All Mediators before you weren¡¯t ever God-heirs,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®They were usually just beings like Glade, with Fair Spirit Potential¡ªbefore they began to share a soul with a God, that is.¡¯ ¡°So we¡¯re mainly keeping it out of Karmion¡¯s hands, then?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°That¡¯s the purpose?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± said King Tallerion. ¡°Since all the competitors will be Captain¡ªthough advancement during the tournament is allowed¡ªit¡¯s natural that the Godhood could not immediately be assigned. It would have to wait until the victor reaches¡­Grand Admiral, is it?¡± ¡°Correct, your majesty,¡± Elder Gheita said. ¡°We will have time to figure out what to do with it if she wins.¡± ¡®Vayra¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned, ¡®No one has ever held two Godhoods before for a reason. Even Karmion hasn¡¯t, though he could have taken Talock¡¯s Godhood if he had wanted. It would shatter your soul. It just isn¡¯t possible. Besides, you¡¯re already learning one Path. Trying to learn another? Both of your Paths would just end up weaker than you need them to be.¡¯ Vayra wondered about the Godscourge book. It didn¡¯t rely at all on absorbing a Godhood to work¡ªthe purpose of her path was to kill Gods, not to become one. ¡°To keep it out of Karmion¡¯s hands, I¡¯ll do it,¡± Vayra said. ¡°But I have one condition: I won¡¯t win the tournament. I¡¯ll fight for Velaydia, and I¡¯ll show everyone your strength. But one of your Order of Balance fighters must win.¡± ¡®None of them are even at Master, let alone Captain!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. The entire meeting began to mumble and mutter to each other, and combined, it still got loud enough that Vayra had to shout. ¡°With a wealth of resources, it¡¯s possible to take a being with a Fair Spirit higher than they¡¯d have otherwise made it. Right?¡± The meeting quieted down, and she received a few nods. ¡°Then your Adepts and fighters need to get ready to accept a Godhood,¡± she said. She turned her head towards Glade. ¡°And I formally request that Glade be allowed to participate in the tournament. He must be put forward as one of your top contenders.¡± ¡°Vayra!¡± Glade exclaimed. ¡°Wait¡ª¡± ¡°That is agreeable,¡± King Tallerion said, and most of the members of the Gray Council provided some nods of agreement. ¡°Mediator, there is no time to waste. Go to your ship and set a course to Harvest Sanctuary. Now.¡± Chapter 4: Inspecting the Troops [Volume 3] The Harmony was anchored just offshore of Riverleech. It floated in a bay alongside a few cargo ships, shrouded by the mist of a nearby waterfall pouring into the ocean. As a galleon, the Harmony was one of the fastest ships in the galaxy. But its draft wasn¡¯t shallow enough to sail into such a small port, so it had to sit out in the open. Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel rowed out to the Harmony on a small boat. Or, Nathariel did most of the rowing. He paddled on both sides, letting Vayra and Glade rest after the long day of sparring. But they had still been instructed to try to help¡­ As they rowed out to the ship, Vayra dipped her hands in the ocean, absorbing wisps of Stream water that flowed down into the bay and taking some mana into her body. It didn¡¯t help the headache or push away the dehydration, but at least she had some mana to cycle, now. Though, cycling alone would not push her towards the Lieutenant Stages. She had to funnel power into her soul and develop that¡ªaccording to Nathariel, it was the true source of Spiritual senses. Only when the soul was ready would she trigger her advancement. So, as they rowed, she cycled Arcara up to her head. Finding the soul and envisioning it wasn¡¯t as easy as finding the core. There was¡­something up there. A cloud of grayish matter that pulsed when she fed it Arcara. And it did absorb the Arcara, almost like it had when she had managed her first advancement¡ªmonths ago. It used it up, and with every little slice of purified mana she fed it, it grew more solid. This soul was somewhere near the top of her neck, where she felt a tingling sensation if there was another God-heir around. But she¡¯d long grown numb to the sensation, having been around Nathariel for weeks now. Apparently, he was veiling his core. If he wasn¡¯t, she figured it would probably weigh down on her a lot more. When they reached the hull of the Harmony, she had nearly topped up her mana. She realized that she had her eyes closed, and they had been for quite some time, because the sun had mostly set and the ship¡¯s lanterns were flickering to life. The crew lowered a set of hooks and hoisted the little rowboat out of the water. They lifted it up to the ship¡¯s main deck, and Vayra stepped off. The deck was occupied only by a maintenance team, who paced the edge, varnishing the railings. A lookout stood up on a platform at the top of the foremast, and he called for Captain Pels as soon as Vayra stepped off the rowboat. The Captain climbed up from belowdeck in a matter of seconds, spun around in a circle, then jogged across the deck to meet Vayra and Glade. He stopped in front of them, his yellow coat swaying in the breeze. ¡°You¡¯re back real soon, eh? I thought it was to be at least a month or two.¡± ¡°It was supposed to be,¡± Nathariel grumbled, leaping out of the rowboat and landing with a graceful flourish. ¡°But Velaydian high command has different ideas for us. We need to head to Harvest Sanctuary, and as fast as we can.¡± Pels scratched the back of his head nervously, nudging his hat up. ¡°I know a good many planets, but that¡¯s not one I can point out on a map. Knowing you three, it¡¯ll probably be in Elderworld space¡­¡± ¡°Right on all accounts,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I doubt it will be peaceful, but we will have a full complement of Redmarines, as well as a squad of Order of Balance Adepts.¡± Pels cleared his throat, then bent over and peered between them. ¡°They¡­wouldn¡¯t happen to be hiding behind that rowboat, would they?¡± ¡°They will be here in the morning, captain,¡± Glade said. ¡°You have the rest of the night to prepare, then in the morning, we will depart.¡± ¡°The ship has been restocked, right?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°As best as we could manage on this little grassball.¡± Pels stood up straight, then began to tap his fingers while muttering about barrels of preserved meat and hardtack. ¡°We can be ready to sail by morning, and if your makeshift army can¡¯t make it in time, then we¡¯ll leave without them.¡± ~ ~ ~ Vayra retreated below deck as soon as the preparations began¡ªshe¡¯d just get in the way otherwise. She ran down to the common area, dodging sailors who were strapping down barrels and tying up the cannon carriages. A horde of seamen pushed a crate across the deck, then used a capstan to lower it down to the cargo hold. When Vayra arrived at the common area¡ªa small atrium in the center of the cargo hold, where there were no boxes or barrels¡ªshe found it mostly empty. Only a handful of younger boys and some off-duty midshipmen waited there. The three eldest boys played a game with dice, which Vayra didn¡¯t understand the rules of, all while the younger ones watched them. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Bremi was one of the dice-players. ¡°Oh¡­hey, sis!¡± he chirped, offering a small wave. ¡°You want in?¡± Vayra stepped over and put a hand on her little brother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You better not be using any real money¡­¡± ¡°No money! Just rum rations.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but stopped herself. ¡°I¡¯m sure you could do to lose a few of those now and then.¡± ¡°You say that like I¡¯m losing!¡± ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°Well¡­yes, but¡ª¡± ¡°Then we¡¯re good.¡± She turned away and walked to the edge of the common area. ¡°I¡¯m just staying out of the way.¡± She could cycle Arcara, and knowing the schedule they were on, she definitely should have. But after a long day, her channels were strained, and pushing herself harder now would be counterproductive. She was about to slump down against a wall of barrels behind her, when Bremi said, ¡°Did you hear? Orlas had her kittens!¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Vayra looked around the common area, trying to find the ship¡¯s cat, but she didn¡¯t see any sign of it. ¡°We made a bed for her.¡± Bremi pointed over his shoulder with his thumb¡ªup at a pillow atop a stack of crates. ¡°The kittens are in there, and if you listen carefully, you can hear them.¡± Vayra walked over to the other side of the common area, curious more than anything, and pushed up to her tip-toes to view the pillow. But Bremi was getting taller than her, now, and he could reach higher places. To get a good look, she had to climb up onto a crate. Orlas, an orange tabby cat, lay curled up at the edge of the bed, with three dark-speckled orange-tortoiseshell kittens nestled in front of her. Every one of the kittens could fit in the palm of Vayra¡¯s hand, if she had tried¡ªbut she didn¡¯t dare to take a mother¡¯s kittens away. They writhed around a little, brushing up against the mother and mewling like cicadas. Orlas, though, didn¡¯t flinch. She stretched out a paw towards Vayra, as if begging for help. ¡°I¡¯m not much good in that department either,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Sorry, girl.¡± ¡®I distinctly remember warning you not to get close to a young animal, lest you end up forming a soul pact with it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Warned? I¡­suppose you said something about it. But would it be a bad thing? Orlas is pretty nice.¡± ¡®It wouldn¡¯t be with Orlas,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®One of the kittens. And not necessarily a bad thing¡ªbut we don¡¯t need to be funnelling Arcara into a little animal while we¡¯re on such a tight advancement schedule.¡¯ ¡°How tight is it?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®I¡¯ve planned it out. You must advance to Third Lieutenant by the end of the week. Then, I give you a month at each stage of Lieutenant, and the rest of the time to reach Captain.¡¯ ¡°Getting to Captain is that big of a leap?¡± ¡®It will require more than just brute-force Arcara purification. Nathariel will guide you through the steps it when you get there.¡¯ ~ ~ ~ The next morning, a rowboat full of Redmarines arrived at the Harmony. The marines all climbed up to the main deck, where first, they greeted Vayra with a bow¡ªat that, she did her best to look confident, though she wanted to turn away and disappear below deck¡ªthen formed a line along the opposite railing. They held their muskets on their shoulders professionally. On one side, the two marines who Vayra knew by name, Kertogg and Tressdot, were whispering to each other out the corners of their mouths. They were bickering quietly about something. Vayra resisted a smile. Then, the Order of Balance Adepts climbed aboard. There were five of them, and they were all middle-aged. She scanned their spirits one-by-one, and they all looked at Nathariel. They must have felt the spiritual scan, and they must have thought it was him. All five of them were either Quartermasters or Master¡¯s Mates, which was pretty good, as she understood the Order of Balance hierarchies. They carried longswords at their hips, which Vayra assumed meant they had a domain over the sword, just like Glade. Most had a scar of some kind, and one even had a hook-hand. They marched over to the Redmarines and fell into rank just in front. ¡°This is nice and all,¡± Captain Pels whispered, ¡°but the sun is getting pretty high. We need to get on the Stream.¡± ¡°Get your sailors moving,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°We¡¯ll see what we have to work with.¡± ¡°I¡¯d have appreciated it more if we had an entire fleet to work with,¡± Pels grumbled. Overnight, he had been briefed on the full extent of their task. ¡°Take the entire planet for ourselves, and see what we can make of it¡ªwithout having to compete with everyone else in the galaxy.¡± ¡°And pit the Velaydian army against hordes of hungry God-heirs?¡± Vayra shook her head, then tilted her head towards the marines. ¡°I don¡¯t give us good odds.¡± ¡°Alright, then. We¡¯ll do it the hard way.¡± He shrugged, then made a hand signal to the lieutenants. ¡°Go inspect your troops, why don¡¯t you?¡± Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel walked along in front of Adepts and marines. As soon as Vayra stepped in front of them, the marines pulled off their hats, and the Adepts saluted¡ªthey had no hats, only black coats and white hair. ¡°Alright,¡± Vayra said. ¡°First instruction: enough with the formality. It¡¯s going to make this really awkward and hard, and I¡¯ve already got one lump dedicated to being formal to me all the time.¡± She nudged Glade with her elbow, but he only bowed his head. She rolled her eyes. The sailors began to scurry around on deck, dodging the marines and Adepts as they climbed up the masts and unfurled the sails. Signal whistles began to blast all the way along the deck. ¡°Matters of the Mediator¡¯s training are in my hands,¡± Nathariel instructed all the Adepts. ¡°You are here only as extra guards and extra support. Is that clear?¡± The Adepts dipped their heads, but they all glanced at Vayra. ¡°If she wishes it.¡± ¡°She¡¯s fine with it,¡± Vayra told them. ¡°I appreciate all of your skill, and all of you coming along, but Nathariel is my teacher.¡± They saluted her again. Apparently, the command to be less formal had worn off already¡ªor it was just a habit. She muttered, ¡°If we keep this up, it¡¯s gonna be a long journey¡­¡± Chapter 5: Nebula [Volume 3] Vayra returned to the main deck when the footsteps stopped pounding and the whistles stopped blasting. Feeling refreshed (she had eaten and drank and just stopped moving for a little while), she ran to the ship¡¯s forecastle to practice a little. She wasn¡¯t ready for sleep yet. The stars whirled by, and the Stream sprayed up around all sides of the ship, creating a cocoon of water. They had been sailing between planets for a few hours, and everything was stable. Only a third of the crew had duties now, and the rest were either sleeping or working small jobs around the ship. The gossamyr sails ruffled and the hull creaked, and the rushing water nearly overpowered it all. But that meant she was on her way to an entirely new planet. She ran to the front railing and pressed her hands down on it. Specks of Stream Water fell on her hands, and more mana rushed into her body. ¡°So, Phason¨¦, have you ever been to Harvest Sanctuary?¡± Vayra asked softly. She knew the Goddess was there, listening, even if she had been a little quiet. ¡®I have been there many times,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, her voice softer than usual. ¡®It used to be very peaceful. Talock terraformed most of it himself over a few centuries, turning it from a ball of useless, sulfuric stone to a sprawling network of farms and rivers and forests. He grew all sorts of mystical ingredients, and he was quite the alchemist when it came to crafting elixirs.¡¯ ¡°For centuries?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t think the Gods had invaded up ¡®til¡­eighty years ago? And even then, Talock was trapped for that time¡­¡± ¡®Correct,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The Gods didn¡¯t truly invade up until eighty years ago, and Talock was never a part of that. But before then, it was a little more complicated.¡¯ She trailed off wistfully. Vayra raised her eyebrows, then looked up. It¡¯d still be weeks until they arrived at Harvest Sanctuary, but she was still hoping to see some sights along the way. Any moment, they would be passing by the enormous Starcradle Nebula. Alrighty, a cloud of violet-tinged dust was blooming in the distant void. Right now, it was only the size of a small coin on the Stream¡¯s horizon, but it would be getting bigger. Vayra ran from the front railing to the side of the forecastle. A net of rigging ran up to the tip of the foremast. She hopped up onto the side railing and clung to the ropes. Every second, the dust cloud grew larger. Waves of brown dust swirled into pink and violet. At every crest, the dust bent over into the shape of a horse¡¯s head. ¡®You¡¯d think you had never seen a nebula before¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Never this close!¡± Vayra leaned out to the side as far as she could, until the droplets of water splashing up from the Stream pelted her hard enough to leave little welts on her arms. She held her hand out to the nebula. Packets of stars were scattered all across the enormous formation of dust. Through the curtain of Stream water, they twinkled like a lantern in the rain. When Vayra cycled Arcara out to her hand, starlight wanted to enter, and it took effort to stop it. Her element was powerful here. ¡®More powerful than you¡¯ve ever felt it. I once spent three years harvesting mana and concentrating my starlight authority in the Column of Spring Nebula. In the end, I ended up reforging my body. One of the many times.¡¯ ¡°So¡­¡± Vayra rubbed the back of her head. ¡°How did you become a Goddess of something new, if you didn¡¯t inherit it? You are the direct daughter of a different Goddess? The wind lady, right?¡± ¡®God-heirs are not set on their Paths, if they choose not to be,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®My mother created the Path of the Scouring Wind, and most of her heirs followed it. She had favourites picked out to succeed her, and I wasn¡¯t one of them. I chose to follow a Void Path when I was establishing my foundation¡ªwind and air are already favourable to emptiness.¡¯ ¡°But how did you become the Goddess of Starlight?¡± ¡®The Stream has a certain authority to it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Intelligence, maybe. It¡¯s what we call the Streamfather. If we become such a symbol of something, an icon, a¡­legend, it is possible for a new Godhood to be created. Voids and stars go hand in hand, and I often lingered around stars more than in the empty void. My Path bent, and I created the Path of Corestar. I ascended¡­ around a century ago. The same thing happened to Talock, only centuries sooner.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re the youngest of the Pantheon, right?¡± ¡®Indeed. If it wasn¡¯t for me, the duties of the Mediator would have passed to someone else in the Pantheon after Talock¡ªlikely someone who had already taken on the duties once or twice before.¡¯ Vayra nodded. She kept staring out at the nebula. It blurred around them as they passed through its center, travelling lightyears in the span of mere minutes. She craned her neck up, trying to glimpse the arms of the nebula that reached overtop the Stream. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Phas¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Are you gonna be alright? Going to your brother¡¯s home and all that? I don¡¯t imagine the other God-heirs will be kind to it¡­¡± ¡®You don¡¯t have to remind me what they¡¯re doing to that poor planet,¡¯ the Goddess replied. ¡®I¡¯ll be fine. Just focus on yourself; you are much more important than my¡­hesitations. This is necessary.¡¯ If Vayra could, she would have given the Goddess a hug. But she wasn¡¯t inside the white void yet. Instead, she climbed higher up the rigging, trying to get a better view. After only a few more seconds, they had passed through the nebula, and Vayra had to turn around to watch it recede into the void. ¡°So¡­Phas, if you need anything, or need me to do anything for you while we¡¯re here¡­¡± ¡®Vayra, you have bigger things to worry about. I can pay my respects later. These resources have been accumulating for lifetimes, and for you to waste any second would be an incredible waste. Not to mention a betrayal of your duty.¡¯ ¡°You never did tell me why this planet exists in the first place.¡± ¡®The Gods weren¡¯t supposed to come down to the mortal realm often, and their heirs were supposed to keep out of mortal business, but the barriers between the realms are weak. In fact, you yourself are technically one of the ¡°barriers¡± between realms.¡¯ ¡°Not a very good barrier if I¡¯m only useful after half my life¡­¡± ¡®But as you advance, you will live much, much longer than a regular human. Or¡­half-phoenix. In fact, some have ended up getting so powerful that they ascended and split from their godly companion. But no one knows what happens to them. They just get replaced.¡¯ By now, the nebula had passed out of sight. Vayra swung down the rigging and landed in the center of the forecastle. ¡°Talock and his Mediator didn¡¯t live very long¡­¡± Vayra winced when she realized how that sounded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡®Talock¡¯s Mediator probably never advanced past Mate. If his life was extended, it wasn¡¯t by much.¡¯ Vayra made a fist, then opened her palm. She could practice while talking with Phason¨¦. She had accumulated a lot of Arcara lately, and she wanted to see how her Starlight Palm would be now. She targeted a stack of barrels halfway across the deck, then unleashed a blast of starlight across the deck. The starlight only blasted out in a dome-shape three feet in front of her, but it flashed out so fast and hard that a wave of force blasted away from it. There were sparks and white speckles mixed in, which swirled forwards like leaves in the wind. It struck the stack of barrels and toppled it. ¡®Very good!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡°Really?¡± ¡®I remember¡­maybe five, six months ago when you could only strike with such force an inch away from your hand.¡¯ ¡°Now¡­I kinda derailed everything, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡®Just a little,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. The Goddess let out a soft chuckle inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®Where was I?¡¯ ¡°Talock¡¯s planet?¡± ¡®Yes, that. Before Karmion¡¯s invasion, some of the Gods had experiments. With permission from the Mediator, they often took over uninhabited or severely damaged worlds and used them to experiment and test, and even to create weapons. Talock used his for farming and alchemy.¡¯ ¡°What kind of elixirs do you think we¡¯ll find?¡± Vayra let off another Starlight Palm, knocking over the rest of the barrels. Phason¨¦ was quiet for a few seconds. ¡®Probably a bit of everything. He liked to experiment. He made me an elixir that helped me get over a blockage. Took me right from Master¡¯s Mate to Lieutenant.¡¯ ¡°What will we need to look for, then?¡± Vayra asked. She pulled in starlight from all around, then put it into one last strike that blasted all of the barrels off the forecastle. They began to roll around on the main deck, and soon enough, they¡¯d get in someone¡¯s way. Wincing, she ran down and picked them up. As she grabbed the barrels and carried them back to the forecastle, Phason¨¦ said, ¡®You¡¯ll want elixirs to help with your spirit¡ªeither for the strength of your channels, or for pure, almost-purified Arcara. Maybe search for something to help improve your soul¡¯s strength as well. Beyond helping your mental and cognitive ability, it¡¯ll keep you awake and let you work for longer.¡¯ Just when Vayra put the last barrel back where she found it, footsteps sounded behind her. ¡°Vayra,¡± came Captain Pels¡¯s voice. ¡°We could use some assistance with the maps. From Phason¨¦, mainly, but you¡¯re a package deal.¡± ¡°Coming,¡± Vayra said. Then, just for Phason¨¦, she whispered, ¡°We¡¯ll be back. A little more training before we sleep, just like I promised.¡± Then, she ran after Pels across the Harmony¡¯s deck main deck. When they reached the stern, he pushed open the door beneath the stern quarterdeck. He marched down a short hallway. On one side were the officers¡¯ quarters, and on the other side was the navigators¡¯ cabin. Pels stepped into the navigators¡¯ cabin, but Vayra lingered in the hallway just a little while longer. She peered into the officers¡¯ quarters, where Glade stood, facing the other Order of Balance Adepts. They were all softly congratulating him and asking questions, and he raised his hands, as if trying to back out. ¡°To reach the stage you have for one so young is an incredible achievement,¡± one of the Adepts told him. ¡°I¡¯m sure when you return to Thronehome, they¡¯ll make you an Adept too. Say, how¡¯d you do it? What did you do?¡± ¡°I¡ªI just had an Admiral teaching me,¡± Glade said, backing away. His collar bulged when he swallowed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°He had an impressive catalog of elixirs, and he provided me with a pill to help me ¡®catch up¡¯.¡± Vayra ducked into the room for a second and tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Pels wants you, too.¡± If she could rescue him from an awkward conversation, she figured she would. Stream knew, he didn¡¯t need any help being awkward. Then, she pulled him across the hallway and into the navigators¡¯ cabin, where all the ships¡¯ maps were stored. All four walls were lined with shelves, and almost all of the slots were occupied by a scroll of parchment. Pels spread a map out on the table, and a pair of navigators were pinning it down. ¡°Alrighty, Mediator,¡± Pels said. ¡°Let¡¯s figure out where we¡¯re heading.¡± Chapter 6: Ni Mela [Volume 3] Vayra spent the travel time advancing to Lieutenant. Under Nathariel¡¯s guidance, she practiced a new cycling pattern that pushed Arcara directly through her core in sharp, bright lances. As she got closer to advancing, it would prompt her core to change immediately. Nathariel, apparently, had developed it for this purpose¡ªhe called it the Breath of Three-Corner Fangs. There was probably a reason for the name, but she couldn¡¯t pinpoint it and there was no time to ask for an explanation. While she practiced the new technique, she had foundational work to complete. The core had two parts: the dark inner core and the light outer core, which were, at the moment, discrete and separate. Master to Lieutenant was about merging them into one and setting the groundwork for the inner world she would be building through the Lieutenant stages. ¡°You must be incredibly careful while merging the inner core with the outer core,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°It is like a planet: if you blend the solid, inner core with the outer, liquid core in an instant, it will have disastrous consequences. Too slow, and you¡¯ll destroy the magnetic field¡ªthink of your Arcara channels. The stars will blast the unprotected surface of the planet away, rendering it unlivable and unusable.¡± ¡°The same could happen to my core?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°You could scour away your channels and deal irreparable damage to your spirit. And, being the Mediator, you might even kill Phason¨¦.¡± Vayra bit her lip and nodded. ¡°So¡­slow and careful, but not too slow. Got it.¡± Her heart began to pound faster and faster. ¡°It should take you four days. No more, no less. I will check in on your progress, but you will not be able to sleep¡ªthe both of you.¡± ¡®I assume that means me¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡°He definitely means you,¡± Vayra whispered back. ¡°You will need to keep each other in check,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Keep each other awake and conscious through the whole process. On the final day, the Breath of Three-Corner Fangs will trigger your advancement.¡± There were only five days left of their voyage when Nathariel gave them the instructions, so they started immediately. On the first day, Vayra practiced controlling her core. All she could see was a ball of swirling light, slightly bluer than her starlight Arcara and much brighter. But the dark inner void was within her somewhere. Whenever she ran her mana too low and fell unconscious, her mind ended up there. ¡®The core is the center of your Spirit,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®But your soul is the controller and driving force of all Arcara. Remember your Sacred Metaphors: the mana is wind, the fuel of all. Your channels are the Stream, and your core is a planet. Arcara is the Streamrunner, and anything else is the passenger. Your soul steers the Streamrunner, and you are the coxswain.¡¯ Vayra inhaled slowly, and began to whisper a mantra Phason¨¦ had taught her: ¡°A thousand Emmisaries before me, a thousand Emmisaries after me. I am the Mediator¡­and I must advance.¡± ¡°Empty your mind,¡± Nathariel told her. ¡°You need to enter your dark void, but without putting yourself entirely unconscious.¡± Easier said than done, as usual. She sat cross-legged for a few minutes, and was about to give up and throw her arms down in frustration when thoughts kept bubbling up in her mind, but she pulled it together and stayed sitting. Meditation was a skill she had to learn. She held herself in a trance-like state, purging all thoughts from her mind as best she could. This time, she was certain that hours had passed. Concentrating on the breathing technique helped. When she tried lifting her arm to scratch an itch on the side of her head, she knew it had worked. She floated in a slurry of dark water, drifting aimlessly. No longer did she have control of her outer body, but instead the inner manifestation of herself. She tried to envision her core and her Arcara system. It didn¡¯t work. ¡°You¡¯re inside the core now,¡± came Phason¨¦¡¯s voice. It reached Vayra¡¯s ears like the Goddess had actually spoken it¡ªalbeit through a thick layer of water. ¡°If you want to envision and control your Arcara system, you¡¯ll need to push your mind outwards. Vayra let her mind fall blank, then drove her consciousness out to the edge of her head. It passed out of the inner manifestation of herself, and for a moment, she saw her own body drifting aimlessly in the dark void. Then her mind drifted out into the white layer, and she held it there, right on the border. The black liquid churned beneath the white light. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°The core is always a manifestation of the Path,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°At first, your core was a reflection of my own, being the Mediator. This is the Path of the Corestar. A black, pure-void inner core, and a white sheen of starlight on the outside.¡± I need a new Path, Vayra thought. The Godscourge book¡ªshe still had it¡ªhad made that clear enough. Nothing had God-killing techniques, nothing truly tested. ¡°You will make one,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°You will tune your core and forge your Path¡­in time.¡± Not right now? Vayra thought. ¡°Right now? You¡¯re putting your core to a blank slate¡ªnothing but the power of starlight and void intertwined. It will be ready to imbue with the meaning and purpose of a Path throughout the Lieutenant stages, but no sooner.¡± Vayra concentrated again on the boundary between the darkness and light. She let the darkness bleed out, guiding it like water. ¡°Slow movements,¡± Phason¨¦ instructed. ¡°Guide the waves with your arms and let yourself become water.¡± Vayra thrust her arms outwards. She watched her own body move. The darkness blasted out into the white, threatening to chew through the layer. She pulled her arms in and held them up to her chest. ¡°Too fast,¡± Phason¨¦ said. Whoops. ¡°No mistakes,¡± the Goddess demanded. ¡°No more ¡®whoops¡¯.¡± Vayra sighed, and the core shuddered. No more. ¡°When I was at Master,¡± Phason¨¦ said, ¡°I had a core of wind-intentioned energy, and an inner core of pure, un-bent energy. I don¡¯t precisely remember the pathways or movements, but my process was one of forming tight boundaries and overcoming the bending, free-flowing nature of my previously wind-based Path. You are undoing that work now.¡± Vayra spread her arms out slowly, pushing the darkness out. It seeped into the outer white shell like water through mud. She maintained the new cycling pattern as well. Concentrating on the breaths held her in her trance. She let the dark void seep out for the rest of the day¡ªuntil Phason¨¦ said, ¡°We need to eat and drink, and Nathariel is trying to say something. Then we¡¯ll get right back at it.¡± He¡¯s trying to talk to us? Vayra thought. ¡°You can¡¯t hear him in here.¡± I¡­guess not. How long can we stay out if we¡¯ve started the process? ¡°Only a few minutes. Be fast.¡± Vayra drew herself out of the void with a push of will. The willpower came directly from the soul, a push of strength from the base of her neck. She tried to control it like a resource to be managed¡ªlike Arcara or mana, or even thirst or dehydration¡ªbut it didn¡¯t work that way. Nothing was depleted. She opened her eyes. Same as before, she was sitting cross-legged on the Harmony¡¯s forecastle. Only this time, one of her hands was resting in a bucket of Stream water. A plate waited in front of her. Boiled hardtack, salted meat of some kind, and a cup of watered-down rum. ¡°Eat quickly,¡± Nathariel commanded. ¡°You don¡¯t have much time before you need to return to the process.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± She shovelled food into her mouth as quickly as she could, not worrying about chewing. As she ate, Nathariel said, ¡°You are moving a little slow. Pick up the pace on the merging. Do you remember your Ni Mela basics?¡± She just nodded. There was no time to take a break. ¡°Use it. The slow, flowing movements of the form are not just a martial art, but a guidance technique as well. Let the willpower flow with your arms and stance.¡± She meditated herself back into the void in a matter of minutes. It was already faster this time, but those minutes were still precious time wasted. Can I get an internal timer, Phas? Vayra thought. Are you able to help me keep pace? ¡°I should be able to¡­manage something,¡± she said, her voice ringing out slightly clearer now. Watching from a distance again, Vayra began to walk through the basic stances of the Ni Mela. It was a martial art from some planet to the Galactic South, and it was slow. She pushed her arms out and back, moving like waves pushing gently to a shore. Her black void responded, surging with the movement. Willpower flowed along her limbs. To say that it used nothing was wrong, she realized. Willpower took a mental toll, building up in the back of her mind as an ache. The tiredness wasn¡¯t physical. She didn¡¯t notice it so much when cycling Arcara¡ªat least, not with her current cycling techniques¡ªbut this process required a stronger willpower. And a stronger soul, she figured. Phason¨¦ began counting beats just with simple numbers. ¡°One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four¡­¡± Vayra timed her movements with the beats, and on each main, emphasized beat, she swapped stances. But every so often, the Goddess trailed away, shuddering and breaking time. Apparently, no matter how high one¡¯s advancement was, the internal timer didn¡¯t improve. For the next two days, Vayra continued the process, bleeding the black, inky core outwards into the white outline. The outer core had become a light gray shield. But not only was Vayra forcing herself to stay awake, she was spending willpower to maintain the blending. Her eyes were already closed, making it even more dangerous. One doze, and she was done for¡­ Her mind began to drift off. The back of her mind shut off, and she sent a spur of erratic thoughts through it just to keep it active. Phason¨¦¡¯s timer drifted away. Vayra¡¯s heart started pounding. The core shuddered and a crack of darkness speared through it. She wrenched the darkness back with an abrupt pull of her arms¡ªone disallowed by Ni Mela¡ªand the shell of light gray energy at the edge of her core blasted through the dark void like lightning. It speared straight through her disembodied form, sending a blast of spiritual pain coursing around her body. The entire core wobbled. A gust of invisible wind blasted around it, threatening to erode the channels and sever it from the rest of her Arcara system. The channels thinned. Any moment, she would cripple her magic. She had to stop it. Chapter 7: Third Lieutenant [Volume 3] Phason¨¦ gasped. ¡°Get it back under control. Widen your stance! Use the Eleven Gaze of Eather!¡± Vayra spread her legs and unleashed three untimed, slow, open palm strikes into the empty darkness¡ªnot the Ni Mela strikes Phason¨¦ has asked for. Nothing blasted out of her hands, but nothing was supposed to. The void didn¡¯t respond. Vayra tried to guide her willpower, counteracting a spear of untamed Arcara blasting through her core, but at the same time, four hands of darkness reached out and ripped at the outer core. She wrestled the light and darkness back and forth three more times, each burst getting more and more violent. Spikes of darkness reached all the way out of the core, and gray lightning blasted through the center. Vayra fought desperately to form a rhythm and once again turn her core to water¡ªmalleable to willpower. ¡°Can you hold it completely still?¡± Phason¨¦ yelled. Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. With as much force as she could, and backing her thoughts with willpower, she thought, No! I¡¯m losing control! A wave of fear washed away the edge of the core. Phason¨¦¡¯s presence grew dimmer in the back of Vayra¡¯s mind. Phas, I need help! You¡¯re¡­you¡¯re fading! ¡°I¡¯m still here!¡± I need you to keep time! The Ni Mela wouldn¡¯t do any good without the proper timing. ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Try harder, or you¡¯re gone and I¡¯m a cripple¡ªinside and out. Without a core and Arcara control, Vayra¡¯s mechanical limbs wouldn¡¯t work at all. ¡°I¡ª¡± Phason¨¦ cut herself off. ¡°I have an idea.¡± A low hum built in the back of Vayra¡¯s mind, and it scoured through her body. Her channels wavered, buffeted by the noise. It was slightly off-tune. Is that¡ª ¡°Be quiet and beat the time on your sleeve! Or¡­whatever you mortals do.¡± Huh? The hum shifted down a note into a perfectly sonorous pitch. Then it began to shift tone. Vayra recognized the timbre of Phason¨¦¡¯s voice, even if it was just a hum. But the hum proceeded into a melody. It rose and fell at the exact same speed as Phason¨¦¡¯s counting. After a phrase of music, Vayra picked up the beat. She didn¡¯t know much about music, but she didn¡¯t need to. She just needed to feel each bar. She stepped down, marking the first phase of the Ni Mela, then pulled back. Third phase: reach out, fourth phase, pull to the side. Willpower flowed down her limbs, and the core¡¯s unbalanced spurts dimmed. The hum halted for a second. A blast of light shot through the dark core, but Vayra maintained the next phase of the Ni Mela, an inward pull, for a few seconds longer than she should have. She extended her willpower to hold the light in place just a little longer. Phas¡­I can¡¯t¡ª ¡°Oh, damn it all¡­¡± Phason¨¦ muttered. The core swayed, and the Goddess audibly inhaled. Then she released a song. Vayra couldn¡¯t understand it; it wasn¡¯t the standard Velaydian language. But it followed the same rhythm, and it was enough for Vayra to cling on to. She followed the basic stances of the Ni Mela, flowing along with the song and stirring her core with her willpower. Phason¨¦¡¯s words crescendoed when Vayra transitioned into the offensive, intense stance, and they faded when she pulled back to a reserved stance. They had timed it impeccably. The black inner core¡¯s borders broke, and the liquid holding Vayra in place fell, scattering black droplets onto an invisible floor. She was flung back into her own mind, with direct control of her body¡­ Sort of. She was inside the white void, now, though for miles, black liquid scattered across the ground. And the ground wasn¡¯t so white anymore¡ªit was the same shade of light gray that the outer core had become. Phason¨¦ stood just behind Vayra, hand on her chest, letting out the rest of the foreign song. Vayra still had a job to do. With both hands, she reached out and moved to the last phase of the Ni Mela. It was a wide stance, with bent knees. With slow-motion two-armed strikes, she gathered the inky liquid of the black void into waves, then smeared it back and forth across the light gray emptiness. With every light step, every swish of an arm, some of the black void soaked into the light gray, darkening it. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. When the last droplet of void faded, Phason¨¦ ended her song mid-line. Vayra caught her own breath, then looked around. Everything was a uniform shade of gray. She could speak again, so she did. ¡°Is it done?¡± Then a spear of impulse passed through her core. She couldn¡¯t control it, nor could she visualize it. She fell, but Phason¨¦ rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground¡ªeven if the impact wouldn¡¯t do much. ¡°You¡¯re advancing to Third Lieutenant,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°You did the hard part. Just compact the core, draw in the Arcara and mana, and use it to improve the quality.¡± Well, at least her mana was unlimited right now. Vayra¡¯s first advancement had only been months ago. She remembered the process of compressing the core, so she repeated it. Without a limit to her mana, the process of cutting and layering the strips of Arcara onto her core and wrapping it tight felt almost trivial¡ªso much so that she didn¡¯t need to visualize her core to do it. Inside the core, the walls began to squish in on Vayra and Phason¨¦. Vayra hadn¡¯t thought the void was limited in space, but a wall began to press against Vayra¡¯s back, pushing her closer to the Goddess with every layer of Arcara she added. When there was no more Arcara to use, Vayra expected herself to pass out, whether from sleep exhaustion or using too much willpower, but she stayed standing, her nose a mere inch away from Phason¨¦¡¯s. Vayra caught the Goddess in a hug and rested her chin on Phason¨¦¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Wasn¡¯t so hard, yeah?¡± ¡°At least we¡­didn¡¯t die.¡± Phason¨¦ let out a sigh. ¡°Or I didn¡¯t die, and you didn¡¯t become a cripple.¡± ¡°At least now I know you have a wonderful singing voice.¡± ¡°Product of advancement, not skill. Your voicebox gets purified and tuned the higher you climb.¡± Vayra pulled away a little, then met Phason¨¦¡¯s gaze. ¡°So¡­what was the song?¡± ¡°Nothing. Just a little¡­ditty from my homeworld.¡± ¡°The way you say that makes me not want to believe you.¡± Phason¨¦ looked down at the gray floor and shrugged. ¡°I know I can¡¯t convince you otherwise.¡± ¡°Oh¡­it¡¯d be really nice to be able to read your thoughts, now.¡± Vayra put her hands on her hips. She tried to step back again, but her back pressed against the edge of the void. ¡°But I guess that¡¯s a one-way street.¡± ¡°Sadly,¡± Phason¨¦ began, ¡°you¡¯ll be able to very soon. As you progress through the Lieutenant stages, you¡¯ll get a lot more¡­insight into me, good or bad. That, among other raw magical strength improvements and soul-hardening.¡± ¡°Not sure if I want to know, when you put it like that.¡± Vayra scratched the back of her head. ¡°So I¡¯m a Third Lieutenant, now?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± Phason¨¦ took one more step back in the other direction. ¡°Now, get on with it. Get back out and report to the others what happened.¡± ¡°Is time still stalled in here?¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± said Phason¨¦. ¡°It wasn¡¯t stalled at all in the black inner core, and in the outer core, it was stalled completely. Now, it passes at about half-speed inside.¡± ¡°Good to know,¡± Vayra said, then forced her eyes open outside the void, drawing herself out completely. She was still on the forecastle, hand still dipped in a bucket of Stream water, but the host of Order of Balance Adepts gathered around her, as well as Glade, Nathariel, and Captain Pels. ¡°Are you alright, my lady?¡± one of the Adepts asked, rushing across the deck. ¡°I¡¯m alright.¡± Immediately, Vayra yawned. She wanted to stand up, but neither of her legs responded, and she didn¡¯t end up moving. She tried again, coaxing blood back into her flesh-and-blood toes with a wiggle. She had no Arcara to fuel her prosthetic leg or arm, so she spend a few seconds cycling mana from the bucket of Stream water just to give herself something to fuel the limbs with. Then she pushed herself up. Her body hadn¡¯t been remade, nor did anything feel stronger right away. But it looked different. Lines of unbroken blood-red feathers ran along her arm and leg. They nearly pushed to the surface, but they hadn¡¯t broken through her skin yet. It looked like it should hurt, but even when she pressed the slight bulge, there wasn¡¯t even a sting. No inflammation, nothing. The lines ran up her neck like a tattoo, and when she rubbed her cheekbones, she felt another ridge of feathers at the tips¡ªlike whiskers. More lingered along the tips of her ears, too, before dipping back down and snaking around her gut. ¡®You better not turn into a bird,¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Will I actually?¡± ¡®You will forge an ideal form eventually,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Which will, in parts, be of your choosing. I¡¯m sure feathers will remain. Get more powerful, and you might be able to transform between your phoenix heritage and ideal humanoid form.¡¯ Vayra dropped her arms. ¡°Wonderful, wonderful!¡± Captain Pels clapped a little. ¡°I didn¡¯t see what happened, but¡­¡± He nudged Nathariel. ¡°The expressions on Mr. Layre¡¯s face were quite a thing to behold. But I figure you¡¯re exhausted, and we¡¯ve got two watches¡ªsixteen hours¡ªbefore we arrive at Harvest Sanctuary.¡± ¡°He¡¯s saying that you better make it count,¡± Phason¨¦ said. But the Goddess¡¯ voice wasn¡¯t inside Vayra¡¯s head. It came from behind. Everything shone white, as if they had sailed right past a star. The light dimmed after a moment, but it didn¡¯t go away entirely. Vayra whirled around. There, a few feet behind her, Phason¨¦ stood. She had no colour¡ªeverything about her was a framework of starlight-white wires, just like how the scythe manifested¡ªbut she had appeared nonetheless. Vayra tried to pass her hand through the apparition, but when it bumped up against a line of Arcara, it stopped. Phason¨¦¡¯s form was mostly physical. ¡°That¡¯s new¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°To prove that we made it to Lieutenant,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I think our survival was proof enough.¡± Vayra turned back to the crowd. She spread her arms and shrugged. ¡°Voila?¡± Everyone stared on with gaping mouths and raised eyebrows¡ªeveryone but Nathariel. The Admiral just crossed his arms. ¡°Just go to sleep.¡± Chapter 8: Harvest Surface [Volume 3] The Harmony arrived at Harvest Sanctuary sooner than Vayra expected. The ship¡¯s bell began to toll as soon as the planet came into view. Vayra ran up to the quarterdeck. Harvest Sanctuary floated in the void ahead of them, a little autumnal-orange speck along the Stream, with a bright star far behind it. The closer they got to it, the more moons Vayra picked out. A bright blue one, a pure white one, a pink one. The Stream didn¡¯t connect to them. ¡°Did your brother put the moons there, too?¡± Vayra whispered to Phason¨¦, leaning on the front railing of the quarterdeck. ¡®He only adjusted their appearance,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Though years of hard work and dedicated power, he altered their compositions, so they reflected the best sorts of light on the planet at night¡ªthe best sorts for growing alchemical ingredients, that is.¡¯ ¡°I thought the Gods¡­or, I suppose Emissaries, you call yourselves, could create planets out of nothing.¡± ¡®None are that powerful yet,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®But our advancement does not end upon our ascension, and some of the Pantheon are more powerful than others.¡¯ By now, Harvest Sanctuary appeared the size of a fist. About half of it was covered in land, and the other half was water. ¡®That¡¯s fresh water, too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®All of it. Do you see the massive purification rune-circles?¡¯ Vayra nodded. Hovering just above the planet¡¯s ocean were circles of brown runes. She couldn¡¯t read or understand them, but she trusted Phason¨¦¡¯s word on it. ¡®They captured the salt from the oceans and sent it all the way up to that pure white moon,¡¯ Phason¨¦ finished. The rest of the planet¡ªwhat wasn¡¯t water¡ªwas forest and farmland. Streaks of flaxen wheat ran across entire continents, and orange, red, and purple forests waited in-between. There were only a few flecks of green. ¡®Those are greenhouses,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®The biggest you¡¯ll ever see.¡¯ The Stream connected to the planet just north of its equator¡ªa short journey from the shore. ¡°It¡¯s a big planet¡­¡± Vayra breathed, the enormity of the task dawning on her. How much would they have to search dn how far would they have to travel? ¡®It¡¯s a good thing I know exactly where to go to get the best loot out of this place.¡¯ ¡°Ms. Vayra!¡± Pels called. ¡°We¡¯re making our final approach now! Keep an eye out for other ships, and be ready! I¡¯m sure there will be other God-heirs around!¡± Vayra inhaled sharply. Not only did they have to run around, searching an entire planet, this would be the highest concentration of powerful God-heirs she had ever faced. ¡®You¡¯ll do fine as long as you keep your wits about you and don¡¯t do anything stupid,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Which I know is expecting a lot of you, but hey¡¯¡ªmore footsteps began to thud up the quarterdeck stairs¡ª¡®at least you¡¯ve got Glade and Nathariel along.¡¯ Sure enough, Glade and Nathariel were climbing the stairs. ¡°How are we going to get to the surface, Captain?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°This is an Elderworld controlled planet, and we are in Elderworld space.¡± ¡°Aye, but take a look around on the stream,¡± Pels said. ¡°And not just planet-gazing, like birdy up there.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Vayra narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head, but she couldn¡¯t resist looking around to see what he meant. She picked a spyglass out of a drawer on the front of the wheel hub and pointed it out to the Stream. On all sides, glowing specks raced towards the surface with them. They sailed along the ocean-width river, and all were too far away to make out. But they had to be ships. There were more behind, and more ahead. And, when they entered the atmosphere, she picked out a few glowing specks lingering just offshore of the planet¡¯s Stream-facing coast. ¡°I think it¡¯s safe to say that there will be too many ships,¡± Pels said. He pulled his hat tighter to his head, then patted Nathariel on the shoulder. ¡°If there is any local security, they won¡¯t pick us out of the crowd. They probably won¡¯t even pay attention to us.¡± ¡°They will if we are flying Velaydian colours,¡± Glade grumbled. Pels raised a finger and opened his mouth, then turned around. A red and beige striped Velaydian navy flag hung off the stern. ¡°Ah, you win this time. But I¡¯ll have the last laugh when I tell Kertogg and Tressdot that we¡¯re gonna sail under false colours¡ªI¡¯ll put them to work taking down the flags.¡± Vayra snickered under her breath, then put the spyglass back in its drawer. ¡°But, Admiral,¡± Pels said, delivering an exaggerated bow to Nathariel, ¡°if you wouldn¡¯t mind heading to the tops and keeping one of your eyes on things, I would appreciate your assistance.¡± This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°I know what it sounds like when someone is trying to get rid of me,¡± Nathariel said softly. ¡°And you don¡¯t have to call me Admiral. It isn¡¯t a navy rank.¡± He stepped closer to the Captain and loomed over him. Pels cleared his throat. ¡°Uh¡­yes. Understood.¡± ¡°I can sense all I need from here. An Admiral¡¯s spiritual senses extend far. There is a Lieutenant-stage God-heir in the ship to our left, and there are three Masters¡¯ Mates and a Master in the ship ahead. To our right, just astern, there is a Captain¡ªand a true Captain.¡± Vayra¡¯s stomach dropped. Myrrir? But he had advanced to Commodore, hadn¡¯t he? It couldn¡¯t have been him. Still, the thought sent a pang of phantom pain to the stubs of her limbs. For a brief second, a jade sword flashed through her mind, and bone crunched. Her stomach churned. She inhaled sharply and pressed her eyes shut. When she opened them, everything was¡­normal. As normal as it could be. She held out her mechanical hand and sent pulses of Arcara through it, contracting the fingers. Then she tucked it behind her back and ordered the fingers to clasp together¡ªwithout even watching. She clasped her own wrist. Her hand clamped down tighter than it had been able to before. The stronger, higher-grade Lieutenant Arcara that she could gather¡­well, it made the hand feel physically stronger. She released it, having nearly left a bruise on her flesh-and-blood arm. She practiced opening and closing her fingers five more times before they reached the surface. The Stream sloped down gently into the surface of the ocean, and the Harmony slipped off it. The shore was a distant band on the horizon now, sandwiched by a perfectly clear ocean on one side and a bright turquoise sky on the other. As far as Vayra could see, there were no proper cities. A network of tents and campfires, however, had grown along the Stream-facing coast. ¡°Tent village?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°They won¡¯t be a problem, will they?¡± Pels shrugged. Nathariel raised two fingers and placed them on the bridge of his nose, then shut his eyes. A wave of invisible willpower pushed away from him, and Vayra doubted she would have sensed it before advancing to Lieutenant. He opened his eyes after a few seconds and said, ¡°At this distance, I will have difficulties sensing threats. When I project my perception, it doesn¡¯t always return. But it seems like the most powerful God-heirs have already ventured inland, or are still arriving.¡± ¡°The tent city is just opportunists,¡± Glade said. ¡°I would expect most of them to be mortal, even. They are just trying to make the most of a fiasco like this¡ªselling wares, trinkets, hospitality.¡± Vayra blew a puff of air out her nose. ¡°Alright, then. Doesn¡¯t sound like a place worth visiting.¡± She put her hands on her hips and turned in a circle. To the south, there was an endless expanse of sea. It didn¡¯t smell like the ocean, but instead, like a clean river, and the wind was pleasant (if not a little warm). To top it all off and frame the view, the misty outlines of the enormous rune circles still hovered above the ocean¡­somehow. ¡®Wind Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®Thanks to our mother¡¯s influence on my brother¡¯s Path, he was able to demonstrate enough lasting Emmisarial authority over wind to make the runes stay in place. Then, it was up to his enormous stores of mana and Arcara to fuel it.¡¯ And to the north was the shore, where the bow of the ship pointed. ¡°Alright, Phas,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°You¡¯re our guide. I¡¯d¡­uh, appreciate it if we could get a little bit more than just some sightseeing. Not that I mind the sights.¡± She didn¡¯t at all, truly. Harvest Sanctuary probably had enough sights to spend a century exploring the planet, and she still wouldn¡¯t see them all. But there was the issue of duty, still. ¡®How¡¯s our map situation?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. Vayra glanced back at the navigator¡¯s table. They had brought up some sector maps from their room belowdeck, but nothing of the surface of the world. They hadn¡¯t had anything for the surface of the planet. Right now, the navigators had set out a blank sheet, and a cartographer was starting to sketch the coastline as best as he could. ¡°We could use some help drawing the surface of the planet. ¡®Just give me one second¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. The starlight in Vayra¡¯s scarf leaked out. It condensed into white lines, and within a second, the ghostly outline of Phason¨¦ stood beside her. The navigators leapt back from the table, nearly spilling the ink¡ªuntil Pels calmed them down. Now outside of Vayra¡¯s head, Phason¨¦¡¯s voice was audible to all. ¡°Let¡¯s see. If you give me the quill, I can start sketching the surface layout.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not using my Arcara when you do that, are you?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯m drawing on my own stores, now,¡± the Goddess replied. ¡°Our link is strong enough, and you are strong enough, to start pulling in some of my old Arcara.¡± As she spoke to Vayra, she sketched a rudimentary map on the sheet of parchment. ¡°The essence of my body, before I left to serve as Mediator, was scattered around the cosmos. It will reform when our duty is complete.¡± When Phason¨¦ finished talking, she had a map drawn. She had continued drawing the coastline, then dragged little globs of ink off perpendicularly. There were inlets all along the coast, which travelled inland and irrigated the crops with a freshwater and spirit-water mixture. ¡°So¡­all the crops on this planet are spirit-grains, then?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Nurtured with Stream water?¡± Phason¨¦ tapped the quill on the rim of the inkwell elegantly, then gave a flourish of her wrist and began to label the map. Her handwriting was perfect, and she didn¡¯t even seem to be concentrating. ¡°Almost all. But those are the simple ones. The best, you¡¯ll find in the inland greenhouses¡ªalong with the treasures and elixirs that he made when he was still alive. If most people get a vial of the water used in those greenhouses, they¡¯d be set for life. There¡¯d be enough almost-purified Arcara in there to take you from Mate to Quartermaster in a swig¡ªand a bunch of those will be more than enough to fuel you through the Lieutenant stages.¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to need directions soon,¡± Pels warned. The wind down here filled the saild¡ªregular, surface sheets. ¡°Unless running around aimlessly is part of your plan.¡± ¡°If you give me the wheel?¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Not happening.¡± Pels paced around in front of the coxswain, hands behind his back. ¡°Tell us where to go.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± The ghosty outline of Phason¨¦ walked back to the front railing of the quarterdeck, but the moment she got more than ten feet from Vayra, she stopped, as if pressing up against a wall. ¡°Vayra, I¡¯ll need a little more leash¡­¡± Vayra shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not holding anything.¡± ¡°There¡¯s likely a limit to how far she can get from you,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Just stick close to each other.¡± Vayra nodded and ran with the Goddess up to the front railing of the quarterdeck. Squinting into the morning sun, Phason¨¦ pointed slightly northeast. ¡°Head for that channel. If I can remember the route, it should take us right past one of the biggest greenhouses on this continent. If we go fast, we might get there before anyone else loots it.¡± Chapter 9: Not All Repairs Are Physical ¡°Myrrir, you are in no shape to enter a tournament.¡± Myrrir paced back and forth across the afterdeck of his ship, trying to think of solutions. His first mate, Tye, leaned against the railing. The Skyclash Tournament could be exactly what Myrrir needed. Even if he didn¡¯t win, there were prizes for nearly everyone in the top thirty contestants¡ªbetween magical treasures and elixirs and pills, he was nearly guaranteed something useful. Most importantly, he could prove his strength. All the Gods would be watching, and that included his father. ¡°I am in perfect shape!¡± Myrrir snapped. He stopped pacing just beside his ship¡¯s¡ªthe Hyovao, an old pirate junk¡ªmizzenmast. The gossamyr sail fluttered overhead and Stream water rushed past, and he had to yell so his first mate could hear him. But not just so. ¡°Tye, I regressed. When they examine my spirit, I¡¯ll appear as a Captain. They¡¯ll let me into the tournament.¡± ¡°That is exactly what I¡¯m worried about.¡± Tye stood up and placed a hand on Myrrir¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Between the spiritual damage from Nathariel¡¯s attacks and the shame of your continued failures, your spirit is unstable. And how about your soul?¡± Admittedly, his jump between Captain and Commodore had been rushed. And¡­it would be the perfect excuse. ¡°It¡¯s just because my last advancement was unsteady. I have my spirit under control, and no more Arcara is burning away.¡± ¡°You have six months until registration for the tournament begins,¡± Tye said. ¡°And we have much work to do if we want to keep moving.¡± He began to strike the palm of his hand with his finger. ¡°More than half of the crew is dead, and the ship needs repairs. We are sailing at a quarter of our normal Streamrunning speed. If we keep this up, the fins will fall off, and we¡¯ll be even slower. We need to stop and recover.¡± He stopped tapping his hand and walked past Myrrir. ¡°Your spirit is still burnt, Myrrir. You need to recover as well.¡± Myrrir shut his eyes and examined his channels¡ªfor what felt like the hundredth time this past few weeks. His channels felt like they were clogged with ash when he tried to cycle, and everything stung still. ¡°You¡¯re not a God-heir,¡± Myrrir commented, taken aback by the correctness of Tye¡¯s comment. ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to be a God-heir to know that having your Arcara channels set aflame by an Admiral will leave lasting damage,¡± Tye said. ¡°But you don¡¯t hide everything as well as you think you do.¡± Myrrir sighed. ¡°I see.¡± He turned around and followed Tye down the afterdeck stairs to the quarterdeck. ¡°I would ask what business of yours it is, but I doubt that would matter.¡± ¡°I do care, Myrrir,¡± Tye said as they walked across the quarterdeck. The coxswains held tight to the ship¡¯s tiller, but they had long black bags under their eyes. The entire crew had to work double shifts just to keep the ship seaworthy. Myrrir and Tye took the next flight of stairs down to the main deck¡ªwhere they would be most useful. Myrrir could help with repairs and give the mainmast a little bracing with gunpowder. ¡°I had a daughter once,¡± Tye said. ¡°She died in a bluecoat raid, and I couldn¡¯t stop it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a very good replacement child.¡± There was no point in dodging the matter. ¡°I¡¯ve known you for half my life,¡± Tye said. ¡°A father doesn¡¯t give up.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ve known you for just over a tenth of my life,¡± Myrrir replied. ¡°You¡¯re not my father, no matter how much you might fancy yourself as one.¡± ¡°You saved my life.¡± Myrrir shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°That was a non-sequitur.¡± But he didn¡¯t open his eyes again. For a brief instant, he stood in the hall of Piratedeep, presenting the captured crew of the Hyovao¡ªa ship of a rebellious pirate clan¡ªto his father. A memory. He had just advanced to Captain, and as was tradition for those on his Path, he had been sent to capture a ship for himself. He had begged his father to spare the crew and let him command them. He hadn¡¯t used that wording, though. ¡°It would be a more suitable punishment,¡± Myrrir had said. ¡°Let them suffer with the agony of serving under the pirate who bested them. And I will make it agony.¡± His father had agreed. Since that day, most of the crew had been killed or replaced, but Tye and a few others still remained. ¡°You did make it agonizing,¡± Tye said, wrenching Myrrir out of his own mind. Myrrir¡¯s eyes snapped open. ¡°But not in the way you think.¡± Myrrir snapped, ¡°I¡¯m glad I kept my promise.¡± He didn¡¯t try to recall the venom from his voice; there was no point. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t, I¡¯d be dead,¡± Tye said. ¡°In that way, I owe you a life debt.¡± Myrrir pulled the plug off his powder flask and cycled his Arcara. He drew the gunpowder out of the pouch, then wrapped it around the damaged base of the mainmast. The wood groaned for a second, but then the mast stopped creaking and swaying. His spirit groaned even worse. Empty pain spread every time he clenched his gut, and it flared whenever he inhaled. It felt like it came from inside his bones, no matter how much he knew that to be untrue. But he held the technique. ¡°Full sail!¡± he called. ¡°She can hold for a few hours, and it¡¯ll give us a little more distance.¡± ¡°Myrrir, where are we heading?¡± Tye whispered. His tone was unusually harsh. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Anywhere. Somewhere out of the way.¡± Myrrir suspected that the question had a few more layers than that, but he didn¡¯t want to think about it deeply. ¡°I don¡¯t envy the position of a God-heir, trying to come to terms with every mortal they have ever known dying and disappearing. It¡¯s no wonder some of them end up like your father¡ªor grandfather, for that matter. But you¡¯re not gone yet.¡± ¡°That sounds like a man coping with his mortality.¡± ¡°Why should I be upset? I would never have been immortal, no matter what.¡± Myrrir growled under his breath and clenched his teeth. Another surge of pain blasted through his spirit. He should have been stronger, but the conversation wasn¡¯t helping. It was time to redirect. ¡°You¡¯re making my life harder¡ªhardly making good on your life debt.¡± ¡°What ¡®helps you the most¡¯ isn¡¯t necessarily what you want to hear.¡± ¡°You¡ª¡± Myrrir cut himself off before he lashed out. ¡°You are frustrating me a great deal, Tye. I would strongly advise you to pick your next words very carefully.¡± ¡°When we met, you were a brother to me. Now, you could be my son by appearances alone.¡± Tye took a few steps back, until he was standing well behind Myrrir. ¡°But I will be whatever you need me to be¡ªand maybe that¡¯s just a first mate. I advise you to rest and recover in safety. There is a star system just east of here, which I know very well, where we could rest and repair the ship.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Myrrir nodded. ¡°Set the charts and turn the ship.¡± ¡°Very good, sir.¡± Tye dipped his head and clomped his feet together, then spun and marched back to the quarterdeck. ¡°Soon, sir, you will have a path forwards.¡± The Hyovao arrived at the Kamoro system a day later. Everything about it was plain and unassuming. Five planets, with only one inhabitable. The inhabitable one was average in all respects: biomes of all sorts, and vast salty oceans. In the end, the planet was an uninteresting ball of blues and greens and tans blooming on the edge of the Stream. The Hyovao descended down to the surface as fast as it could. They never got fast enough to risk setting the prow aflame¡ªthat was the last thing they needed. Myrrir climbed up the quarterdeck stairs as they descended. He met Tye at the top. ¡°What¡¯s with this world, then?¡± he asked. ¡°It was where I grew up,¡± Tye answered, holding a map up to the coxswain and tapping the corner. ¡°As an inconsequential planet along the Line of Battle, it happens to have only one branch of the Stream connecting to it, and from the Elderworld side. There¡¯s never been much fighting here, and there¡¯s only a small bluecoat garrison. It¡¯s the best you¡¯ll find in lightyears.¡± ¡°Your entire old crew came from here, too?¡± ¡°Not all of them, but most of them. We joined the Redband Pirate Clan after we had enough men. My old captain was one of the Moro-Ka Warriors, and that jade sword¡±¡ªTye tilted his head to the blade hanging at Myrrir¡¯s hip¡ª¡°is a traditional weapon of theirs.¡± Myrrir had taken the sword from the old captain. It lined up. As they spoke, the Hyovao broke through the atmosphere. Moisture clung to the sails and railings, making the deck slippery, but Myrrir widened his stance, making himself unshakable. ¡°Tye, what happened to your daughter?¡± ¡°A bluecoat killed her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it¡­?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Tye set down his map. ¡°She went to the city on Teros, a nearby system, looking for a life of wealth and glory. On the first day, a bluecoat decided she had looked at him the wrong way. Or so I was told. Perhaps there were more gruesome details that my old captain sought to spare me from.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tye.¡± Maybe that would make up for his snappiness the day before. ¡°You have bigger things to be sorry about.¡± Myrrir snorted. ¡°Alright, then.¡± He crossed his arm. ¡°Your homeworld? Think you can show us some places to get wood and patch the hull? Maybe some more gossamyr and cotton to repair the sheets?¡± ¡°If you¡¯ve got money.¡± They were short on that, of course. Between hiring bounty hunters and previous repairs, and supplies and munitions? Their gold was running awfully low. He briefly entertained the idea of piracy, but in the state they were in, they couldn¡¯t go starting fights. ¡°That Moro-Ka sword of yours is called a Jai,¡± Tye said. ¡°It will fetch a pretty price here, if any of the locals still know its significance.¡± With a gasp, Myrrir stepped back. ¡°It was the first blade I ever captured, from the commander of the first ship I ever captured. To give it up would be a great dishonour to my entire family. Or at least, my lineage, depending on how Stellacovan code would see it.¡± ¡°Then we¡¯re in a bit of a bind, aren¡¯t we?¡± Myrrir ran his hand along the ring-shaped pommel of the sword. The Hyovao slid into the planetary sea gently, and now, it approached an enormous archipelago of islands. From the upper atmosphere, they had seemed much smaller than they did now. They filled the horizon like a new landmass. Snow-capped mountains lined the shore, as did thick pine forests. ¡°Just take us in to the port,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°I¡¯ll figure out the rest when we reach the shore.¡± ¡°Remember, Myrrir,¡± Tye said. ¡°You are not as strong as you¡¯re used to.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to start any fights.¡± He set his hand on the pommel of his sword. ¡°But I won¡¯t lose if someone else starts one.¡± Chapter 10: Fogbank [Volume 3] Vayra wasn¡¯t sure what to expect when they reached the shore, but a perfectly flat, vertical cliff hadn¡¯t been on her list. It wasn¡¯t exactly a cliff¡ªit only jutted out of the water enough that it was a few feet taller than the Harmony¡¯s main mast, and she had gotten used to bigger. They sailed as close to the shore as they dared, but there were no rocky spikes or shards to watch out for. The only risk was running aground. ¡°Captain,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°We have someone following us.¡± He spoke calmly, but that wasn¡¯t exactly something to be calm about. Vayra sprinted to the stern railing of the quarterdeck, her eyes wide. But the entire ocean at the base of the Stream was littered with ships. Most were small and fast¡ªthe biggest was a frigate with two gun decks¡ªbut there were lots of them. Too many to reliably tell which were which. Thankfully, there was no buzzing in the back of her mind. There were no God-heirs too close. ¡°Which ship?¡± she whispered. ¡®There could be any sort of enemies here,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. She had retreated back inside Vayra¡¯s head a few minutes ago, having no reason to stay in her physical form. ¡®And we have made quite a few people mad.¡¯ ¡°Myrrir better not still be after us,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not a junk,¡± said Nathariel, pointing out to the sea behind them. ¡°A square-rigger, single gun deck, three masts¡ªjust like us.¡± Vayra narrowed her eyes. She couldn¡¯t pick out any ship from the distant crowd that was following them. Just to be sure she wasn¡¯t missing anything, she leaned over to Glade and asked, ¡°Do you see anything?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Nothing.¡± Nathariel spun his finger in the air ahead of himself, drawing a little circle of flaming Arcara. When he pulled his hand away, the burning ring stayed. ¡°Look through it.¡± He had circled one of the distant ship-like specks. Vayra didn¡¯t expect herself to pick out any of its details, but¡­well, it had a blood-red flag and a brown wood hull with few ornaments. Its prow had turned towards them. With a shudder, she realized that she wouldn¡¯t have been able to make out those details before reaching Third Lieutenant. ¡®The advancement was a slow process, but it adjusted some of your interior workings,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Eyes, perception, senses.¡¯ Naturally, Vayra sniffed the railing next. ¡®Oh, by the Streamfather¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ groaned. ¡°I guess the varnish does smell more intense¡­¡± Vayra shrugged. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Nathariel asked softly. He pulled her aside so Glade could see the circled ship. ¡°I was just¡­¡± Vayra shook her head. ¡°Nevermind. What¡¯s wrong with that ship?¡± ¡°Redband Pirates,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Distant vassals of Nilsenir, and they may or may not be working with him. There is a Second Lieutenant stage God-heir aboard the ship¡ªand that would be the Path of the Bloodpowder, which you don¡¯t want to mess with if it can be helped.¡± ¡°We have had dealings with the Redbands in the past,¡± Glade said. The circle of flaming Arcara had dissipated. ¡°They will not be friendly to us, whether they are with Nilsenir and Karmion or not.¡± ¡°I figured,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°The good news is that they likely haven¡¯t identified us. The bad news is that the Harmony is a very boisterous ship, with its ornaments and all. They see us as a hearty prize.¡± ¡°The Harmony is a beautiful ship, I¡¯ll have you know!¡± Pels called. He still stood beside the wheel hub, giving quiet directions to the coxswain, but he had turned away for a moment. ¡®If we head down one of the inlets, they¡¯ll follow us,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®And we¡¯ll lead them right to our prize, too.¡¯ So destroying them was the best option¡­ ¡®Unless you want to draw undue attention to ourselves, I wouldn¡¯t advise it. We don¡¯t need all the other God-heirs here ganging up on us when they see blatant starlight magic.¡¯ Vayra scowled. Not many options, then. ¡°Go through that fogbank,¡± she said, pointing up to a wall of mist ahead. Where the sea crashed on the shore on an especially sharp jut up ahead, it stirred up a mist. In the early morning, the mist gathered into a thick fog. ¡°And then?¡± Pels asked. ¡°Either the fog melts off, or we have to leave and head to our inlet anyways, and they¡¯ll see us.¡± Vayra leaned over the railing and stared at the churning water below for a second, then pushed herself back up and turned back to them. ¡°Nathariel? Sir? What¡¯s the biggest flame you can make?¡± The God-heir snapped his fingers, generating a small flame at the tip of his thumb. ¡°I like what you¡¯re thinking¡­¡± ¡°Portable fog?¡± Glade asked. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Hold on a second.¡± Pels spun around to face them. ¡°Am I the only one who¡­oh! Make a steam shield, eh?¡± ¡°Aye,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Get us into that fog, and we¡¯ll disappear. I¡¯ll keep the ship hidden as long as I can. Vayra and I will. No one will see us leave, and they¡¯ll think we¡¯re still in the fog.¡± ¡°And me?¡± she exclaimed. ¡°You have a technique to learn.¡± ¡°Your Starlight Palm is effective as a single burst of energy. My goal is to turn it into a beam of power. We¡¯ll use it to stir up fog.¡± Nathariel stood at the edge of the Harmony¡¯s forecastle. They had just entered the fogbank. He leaned over the railing and looked down, then planted his feet down with a stomp that shook the boards of the deck. Flicking his hand out, he launched a column of flame Arcara down into the water. It roared through the air like a thousand sheets of paper ripping at once. A cloud of steam boiled up, washing over one side of the ship. He cut the blast off with a flick of his wrist. Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. There was no way she¡¯d ever be able to do that with starlight. It wasn¡¯t like fire, which just needed any sort of heat energy to draw from. Nathariel could create fire from anything. Starlight needed stars, and lots of them. Besides, even if it had been nighttime, with a sky full of stars beaming down on the ship, she didn¡¯t have a direct line to the stars inside the fogbank. All she had was her scarf. ¡°Even if I could make a beam like you did, I wouldn¡¯t be able to maintain it for long, if at all,¡± she told him. ¡°Aye, but that¡¯s what we¡¯re here to work on.¡± He held out his spear. It was made of an amber-like substance, but she knew it was Moulded Arcara. Permanently Moulded, not like her scythe or Phason¨¦¡¯s projection. ¡°This spear has very little power on its own. It¡¯s Lieutenant graded, meaning anyone Lieutenant above could use it in battle without the spiritual strain overwhelming them.¡± ¡°You want me to use your spear, now?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°The strength of the weapon doesn¡¯t matter in this case. For some of my most intensive techniques, I use it to help guide my Arcara¡ªit helps focus my willpower, just like the Ni Mela.¡± Vayra bit her lip. She recalled the fight between Nathariel and Myrrir. An image of Nathariel flashed through her mind¡ªflinging flame Arcara off the tip of his spear. ¡°I don¡¯t have a physical weapon,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Only Phason¨¦¡¯s scythe.¡± ¡°Yes, yes you do.¡± He pointed his spear down at the pistol tucked into her belt. ¡°It¡¯s a normal pistol, graded for even mortals, with no spiritual strain. But you can still funnel your power through it.¡± Vayra pulled the flintlock pistol out of her belt. She hadn¡¯t used it in a while, but there was still a shot loaded and powder in the pan. ¡°Get rid of that shot,¡± Nathariel instructed. Vayra pointed the pistol over the front railing of the ship. The fog made it hard to see anything ahead of them, and the cliff stood off to the side as just a dark silhouette. She fired her pistol off at the cliff, then shook it to cool the muzzle. As soon as she lowered her arm, footsteps pounded up the forecastle¡¯s stairs. Bremi ran up. ¡°Sis, and Mr. Admiral! Captain says we have about ten minutes before we¡¯re out of the fog.¡± ¡°Can he circle around and give us more time?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°The wind forbids it, sir,¡± Bremi said, dipping his head and clutching his straw hat. ¡°You¡¯d better be quick, sis.¡± He gave another short bow, then turned away and ran back to the main deck. ¡°Can you make enough steam on your own?¡± Vayra asked Nathariel. ¡°Not without setting the ship aflame as well.¡± ¡°Alright, then¡­¡± She held her pistol out. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta be quick, is what I¡¯m hearing.¡± ¡°Just like when you used a Bracing technique,¡± Nathariel began, ¡°first gather up a healthy source of starlight Arcara.¡± Holding her free hand over her scarf, Vayra gathered up her seer-core¡ªa ball of bluish-white light, made out of pure starlight. It seemed dimmer after her advancement to Third Lieutenant, and every so often, a streak of black void slipped through. The little swirling storms that let her gauge her Arcara and mana stores had drifted to the seer-core¡¯s equator, too. Still, she turned to Nathariel. ¡°This work?¡± ¡°It will do, yes.¡± He turned around. ¡°Funnel the energy through your arm like you are unleashing a Starlight Palm, then feed it into the pistol.¡± Vayra immediately swapped hands, so she could hold her pistol in her flesh-and-blood hand and the seer-core above her mechanical hand. Funnelling energy was easier with her real hand¡ªshe had been practicing enough lately to find that out. ¡°But this pistol isn¡¯t starsteel,¡± she said. ¡°It won¡¯t conduct Arcara.¡± Nathariel stepped up to her side and flicked the pistol¡¯s frizzen open. ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to. The gunpowder ignites in the pan and sets everything in the barrel alight as well; there¡¯s a hole between the pan and the barrel, and you should be able to send starlight Arcara through it just like you¡¯re firing a shot.¡± He spun his spear and flicked a small bar of fire out the bow of the ship. ¡°Willpower is focussed on intent. You are still creating the blast. The intent of the pistol allows you to focus and control your willpower around it.¡± She nodded, then immediately set to work. The first few attempts, she only managed to launch a normal Starlight Palm. It nearly blasted the pistol out of her grip. On the seventh attempt, she launched a single, cohesive blast of white light out around the pistol. She sucked energy in from the seer-core. It flowed through the channels of her mechanical arm, then through her own body, leaving a slightly-burnt residue in her channels (which her enhanced body quickly cleansed) and enveloped the pistol. In a single burst, the starlight flew off the pistol and screeched away into the distance. Already, the fog was starting to thin. More and more daylight bled through onto the forecastle. ¡°Think you can hold it for longer?¡± Nathariel asked. He kicked her ankle, forcing her to widen her stance. ¡°Stay low and planted.¡± There wasn¡¯t much other choice. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± She ran to the starboard railing, and Nathariel ran to the larboard side. ¡°On my count,¡± he said. ¡°Three¡­¡± ¡®Refill your seer-core,¡± Phason¨¦ reminded her. Vayra did, then pointed her pistol down at the water. ¡°Two¡­one¡­now.¡± She focussed a beam of starlight out of the pistol. Every muscle in her body clenched. It took all her concentration just to breathe. ¡®You can do this, Vayra, Phason¨¦ encouraged. ¡®Just hold it for a little while.¡¯ With a high-pitched whine, the beam of starlight scoured the surface of the water. It started out clothesline-thin, but Vayra forced more energy out her hand and into the beam of starlight-Arcara. The seer-core shrank. Inside her body, Vayra burned mana to maintain the technique, and outside, she spent Arcara. The beam grew to the width of her finger. A cloud of steam rose out of the water and steam washed over the ship, shielding it from sight. Chapter 11: Locks [Volume 3] Vayra fell against the railing, panting. ¡°For the record, Phas, that was not my definition of ¡®a little while¡¯.¡± It had been much, much longer. She was drenched in sweat on the outside, but inside, she was parched. Dark specks whirled in front of her eyes, both from exhaustion and dehydration. Her mana was nearly all out, and she had spent two entire cores worth of Arcara. ¡°Held it for five minutes,¡± Nathariel said, looming overtop of her. ¡°Not bad for a second try.¡± ¡°It felt like an hour¡­¡± They had made it into an inlet and sailed into a canyon of smooth stone. The irrigation corridor was still wide enough for four galleons to fit across it, but with the steep walls of stone, no one would see them¡ªand because of the steam, no one had seen where they slipped off to. Now, they had a head start inland, and that was the best they could ask for. To rest and recover, Vayra climbed up to the top of the mainmast and sat up on the highest platform¡ªwhich, as Phason¨¦ made sure to explain, wasn¡¯t the best choice when tired. Vayra barely made it up the ratlines, but she did it anyway. The view was worth it, though. Wind blew directly down the irrigation streams, pushing the Harmony from behind, but it also made the unkempt fields ripple. Stalks of golden wheat swayed, and a distant band of orange-leafed trees rustled. An unusually strong gust blew across the fields. It pushed the wheat completely flat, revealing the wrecks of hundreds of wagons and tills scattered around the fields. ¡°What happened here?¡± Vayra whispered to Phason¨¦. They weren¡¯t the only ones on the upper platform; there were also sailors and lookouts and sailmakers. She sat on the very corner of the platform, out of the way, but she didn¡¯t want to distract them at all. ¡®When Talock disappeared and Karmion took over, I figure most of the farmhands got out of here as quickly as they could,¡¯ Phason¨¦ explained. ¡®No sense in looking like an ally to the only person who could rival Karmion¡¯s rule.¡¯ ¡°They didn¡¯t loot it?¡± ¡®Why would they? Most of them were mortals. Besides, within a few days, Karmion had the planet locked down. I¡­I wasn¡¯t even allowed to visit it until now.¡¯ They sailed down the river until noon. Unlike most rivers, though, it flowed inland, carrying the Stream-water-fresh-water mixture along with it. Tubers ran up and down the cliff face, sucking water up to the fields. When Vayra viewed them with her spiritual sight, they began to glow. They were filtering out the fresh water through a series of fibrous locks, allowing only the wisps of spirit water leftover from the Stream to pass. At noon, they reached the band of forest. Trees hung over the irrigation channel, criss-crossing overhead. Branches brushed against the top of the mast, and orange leaves fell like snow. It would have been perfect had the wind not carried a vague whiff of rot in it. An hour into the forest, they reached a branch in the irrigation river. Vayra climbed down to the main deck and ran back to the map table, so Phason¨¦ could give instructions on where to head next. They took the channel that led due north. According to Phason¨¦, if they kept heading northward, they would reach one of the planet¡¯s largest greenhouses¡ªan experimental facility for devising new elixirs. ¡°You might even find some runestones to socket in your arm,¡± Phason¨¦ said. She had appeared in her full form again. ¡°Our arm, I suppose¡­¡± She tapped the planetary map with a ghostly white finger. ¡°But yes, keep heading north whenever you can.¡± For the rest of the day, Vayra practiced meditating and cycling, trying to replenish her Arcara. ¡°The Lieutenant stages are partially about pure Arcara accumulation,¡± Nathariel had explained, ¡°but also about core strength. Regardless of the advancement process, you will need a strong baseline of Arcara. It takes God-heirs decades, and sometimes even centuries to get through these stages. The Mediator¡¯s natural affinity for absorbing mana and purifying it allows them to progress through in a year or two. You need to do it in months. For now, keep using the Burnished Flame Loop¡ªit¡¯s your fastest purification technique.¡± They left the forest by evening, but the surrounding cliffs had risen, and now, they were higher than the ship¡¯s main mast. The river was going down, and the cliffs were going up. The next morning, Vayra joined an expedition out onto the surface of the planet. They threw grapples over to the cliff¡¯s edge and climbed over¡ªher, Glade, Nathariel, the Order Adepts, and a party of Redmarines. At a brisk walk, they could keep up with the Harmony. This new swath of fields was almost perfectly level, and any fieldstones had long since been plucked out. Vayra ran her hand through the wheat stalks as they scouted around the vessel, scooping the grains off the top of the stalks. They glowed in her spiritual sight, and when she held them, they buzzed with spiritual energy. When she ate them, they filled her stomach with lightning. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. But that meant they were working. They contained almost-purified Arcara. All that remained was to integrate it into her spirit, and a little bit of cycling did that. She instructed the rest of the Adepts and Glade to do the same¡ªthere was no reason for them to not take advantage of the opportunity, especially when their weak spirits made it hard for them to accumulate Arcara like she could. At noon, a band of darkness appeared on the horizon. First, Vayra assumed it was another forest, but as they got closer, she realized that it was a bluff running across the entirety of the continent. It rose a few hundred feet in the air. Her heart dropped the closer they got to it. Were they going to have to leave the ship behind? ¡®There should be a lock,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°A lock? Like¡­a padlock? We have to¡ª¡± ¡®A water lock, for raising and lowering ships. You¡¯ll see.¡¯ When they reached the bluff, it was mid-afternoon, and the sun bore down directly on them, making everything feel a lot warmer. Vayra sheltered in the shade of the rock shelf, trying to determine what would happen to the ship. The Harmony sailed all the way into a cove in the cliff wall. The river flowed into it for a few more ship-lengths, then ended abruptly at a white-sand beach. Vayra paced back and forth, looking for a route to keep travelling, but there was nothing. A pair of doors even guarded the cove entrance, plastered with lines of runes as if to say ¡®don¡¯t enter here, it¡¯s a dead end.¡¯ They shouldn¡¯t have been left open. ¡®Vayra, look up,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. At the top of the cliff, another set of doors waited. They didn¡¯t reach all the way down like the first set did, and the runes engraved in them glowed bright blue. Enormous pitcher plants perched at the edge of the upper cove walls, their heads tilting precariously over the cove below. ¡°Ohh¡­¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°It fills up with water, raising the ship, and we can make it into the higher river¡­¡± ¡®You got it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®However, those pitcher plants, a breed specifically cultivated by Talock, only pour at twilight.¡¯ So they had to wait a few more hours until the sun set. ¡°So much for our head start¡­¡± ¡°It does not look like anyone has followed us,¡± said Glade, stepping up behind her. ¡°We still have time, and if we can fit through the lock alone, then anyone sailing down this channel behind us will have to wait another day before they can pass.¡± There wasn¡¯t anything else to do around the ship¡ªthey had already had a day of sailing in a straight line to make sure everything was in good order. When Vayra made it back down to the deck of the ship, Pels was already dismissing the sailors. If they wanted, they could go ashore¡ªbut they had to be back by twilight. ¡°That includes you two,¡± Nathariel said, pointing at both Vayra and Glade. ¡°The Adepts are already keeping watch, and I have my senses extended as far as they go. If anyone sneaks up on us, we¡¯ll know.¡± ¡°I should¡­cycle Arcara, or something¡­¡± Vayra said. She was about to climb down the edge of the ship and swim to the shore for a bout of peaceful, quiet meditation, but Nathariel put a hand out in front of her. ¡°I¡¯m sure Phason¨¦ will agree: you cannot spend your entire life working on advancement,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ve been doing that for the past few months¡­¡± ¡°And I¡¯ve got power to show for it¡­¡± she said. ¡°I promised my brother I¡¯d do my duty as Mediator¡­¡± And this war had to end, before more beautiful places like this got ruined. ¡®That may be,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®But, if you constantly push yourself past the brink, you¡¯ll just end up tiring yourself out and being less effective. Breaks are important. It¡¯ll be better for you in the long run.¡¯ ¡°What are you two suggesting?¡± Vayra asked. Glade pointed at himself. ¡°Me?¡± ¡°Nathariel and Phas,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry. She was talking inside my head¡­¡± ¡°Take a break,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°Relax. This may be the last time you¡¯ll ever have for the next few years where you¡¯re not working, so make the most of it. Just maintain your cycling pattern¡ªI hope it¡¯s become second-nature.¡± She was about to open her mouth to protest, but she shut it again. They made a compelling argument, and if there wasn¡¯t anything better to do¡­ Vayra stood on the sandy shore at the back of the cove, hands on her hips. Relax. How did that work, again? Phason¨¦ groaned inside her head. ¡®Oh, come on¡­you¡¯ve never been to a beach before?¡¯ ¡°Well¡­no.¡± Vayra dropped down on the sand cross-legged, letting the waves lap up against her boots. ¡°There were shores on Tavelle, and to the south, apparently there were some nice beaches¡ªin the summer, of course¡ªbut Bremi and I never visited. Too busy scrounging for food and running for our lives, and all that¡­¡± Apparently, there were entire resort planets, with giant palm trees and beaches that stretched as far as the eye could see, but Decathe, her homeworld, was hardly that. ¡®It looks like your brother has figured it out,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Further down the beach, Bremi and the other midshipmen and young seamen splashed in the water. They¡¯d taken their boots off, as well as their coats and tunics, and a few of them were even swimming around. ¡°I¡¯m not my brother¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­got a little bit more on my plate than him. But I¡¯ll try. I, uh¡­¡± ¡®Well, then come on. Meet me in the void, and we¡¯ll get you ready.¡¯ ¡°In the void?¡± ¡®We¡¯ve got a few preparations to make. You can¡¯t go swimming like this, now, can you? I¡¯ve been to some of the fanciest, most prestigious resort worlds in the galaxy¡ªif anyone can help you get ready, it¡¯s me!¡¯ Vayra sighed. ¡°I suppose it couldn¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡®That¡¯s the spirit!¡¯ She shut her eyes and pulled herself into the void. Chapter 12: To Learn Flow... [Volume 3] Phason¨¦ sat on an invisible chair in the middle of the void with one of her knees tucked up to her chin. She clapped her hands together as soon as Vayra appeared in the void, though, then jumped to her feet. Vayra stopped right in front of Phason¨¦. ¡°Alright¡­¡± She sighed, hardly paying attention. ¡°What do we need to do?¡± ¡°Get rid of the boots. And the cloak. Roll up your breeches a little, and lose the stockings.¡± Phason¨¦ walked in a circle around Vayra, scratching her chin. ¡°Keep the chest-wrap, I guess.¡± The Goddess paused halfway around and pulled open a slice of the void. She retrieved a pair of sandals¡ªlike the ones she wore all the time¡ªthen tossed them at Vayra. ¡°That¡¯ll do the trick. Get a straw hat from the sailors, so you don¡¯t burn yourself. Or¡­wait, phoenixes don¡¯t get sunburnt, do you?¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be an issue.¡± ¡°Ah, perfect! Don¡¯t worry about it, then!¡± Dropping her arms, Vayra sighed. ¡°I¡­suppose this¡¯ll work.¡± She knelt down dutifully and started unlacing her boots. ¡°Just give me a second.¡± Phason¨¦ snapped her fingers. A wash of willpower encased the Goddess, followed by a faint pull. She asserted a Godly authority over the starlight, and the dress that she wore¡ªapparently, some sort of great treasure¡ªtransformed into a tied-up tunic and a pair of short breeches in an instant. Vayra¡¯s face heated up, and she looked down at the ground, hoping to hide the blush. With a sigh, Phason¨¦ dropped down to a crouch beside Vayra. ¡°Looking away isn¡¯t going to hide anything from me.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Vayra finished unlacing her boots then pulled her stockings off. ¡°Look, I didn¡¯t ever¡­uh, date anyone before, either. I don¡¯t know how to do that, Phas, or really what any of these feelings mean aside from awkward. You¡¯re just¡­really pretty, and I¡¯m¡­well¡ª¡± Phason¨¦ laid a hand on Vayra¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out. Just¡­relax, have fun, and don¡¯t think too hard, alright?¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Vayra stood up and unclasped her cloak, then slipped into the sandals. Still, something buzzed in her stomach. ¡°Now get out of here. Scram.¡± Vayra opened her eyes and wrenched herself out of the void. She was still standing on the sandy shore of the cove, sun beating down on her, and it was starting to get warm¡ªeven for a phoenix. She ran down to the water and waded up to her hips, then began to swim a lap of the cove. It had been a while since she swam last. She and Bremi had taught themselves in the Bay of Tavelle, of course, but they¡¯d only ever used it to escape angry merchants or Helpers. Vayra stopped in the center of the cove and began to tread water. The Harmony floated just ahead, its golden ornaments glistening. All the sails were furled, and more of the crew was disembarking to the shore. She turned around, ready to swim back. As soon as she turned around, a wave splashed her in the face. Bremi. He treaded right behind her, having snuck up. ¡°Sis! Get back to shore¡ª¡± ¡°Why?¡± Vayra gasped, her eyes widening. She cycled Arcara, ready to fight. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°N¡ªnothing!¡± Bremi pushed himself back a few feet, sculling with his hands. ¡°We¡¯re setting up a game of Velle-ball. I¡¯ve got my team¡ªme, Mr. Beason, and Mr. Ellers¡ªbut we need someone to play against.¡± He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. On the shore, two of the other midshipmen, human boys, waited. They had set up a makeshift net with driftwood and tied-together navy coats. Glade helped them pack sand around the base. ¡°Well¡­I suppose we¡¯ll need Glade,¡± Vayra said. He had gotten rid of his coat, tunic, and stockings as well. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s playing, whether he wants to or not!¡± Bremi chirped. ¡°Come on, sis!¡± He spun away in the water and began to swim back to the shore. ¡°I¡¯m coming, I¡¯m coming!¡± They swam back to the shore and walked up the beach. Bremi pointed to Glade, then said, ¡°You¡¯re with sis.¡± The two other midshipmen ran to the other side of the makeshift net with Bremi. ¡°Apologies,¡± said Glade, ¡°but I don¡¯t know the rules.¡± Vayra shifted her weight nervously. Velle-ball was, as far as she knew, a game that hadn¡¯t spread far from Decathe in terms of notoriety. She herself had never played before, and as far as she knew, Bremi had only played once or twice. ¡°There should be a ball of some kind¡­¡± she said. ¡°Ah! There!¡± She pointed to the other side of the net, where one of the midshipmen was bouncing a thick leather ball up and down. ¡°Hit it to the other side of the court. If it touches the ground, they get a point. We get four bumps on our side before we have to pass it back over the net.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°We are going to need a third player,¡± Glade said. First, Vayra looked around to see if Nathariel was anywhere nearby, but he wasn¡¯t. Even if he had been, it probably would have been unfair to have him on any team. ¡®Vayra?¡¯ Phason¨¦ cleared her throat, audible even inside Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®I can join up¡­¡¯ As if an Admiral wasn¡¯t unfair, a Goddess¡ªor Emissary, whatever she called herself¡ªwould be even worse. But already, Phason¨¦ had drawn the light out of Vayra¡¯s scarf and formed up beside her. ¡°I¡¯ll have plenty of hobbling¡ªI¡¯ll be stuck in a short range of you, not to mention this form is only about as agile as a human anyways. Until¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªuntil I get stronger, yeah,¡± Vayra finished. To everyone, she asked, ¡°That good?¡± Bremi and the midshipmen nodded, as did Glade. ¡°Heads up, sis!¡± Bremi yelled, then served the ball across the court. ¡°Hey!¡± she hissed, sprinting across the sand and getting into position. She dove to bump the ball up with her wrist. It was harder than it looked, and it stung when it hit her skin, but she still managed to push it up enough. Glade knocked it over to Phason¨¦¡¯s ghostly white projection. The Goddess sent it flying back over the net in a smooth arc. ¡°We are not allowed to catch it, correct?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Nope,¡± Vayra replied as the boys on the other side stabilized the ball and prepared to knock it back over. She jumped back to her feet, and only once she was standing did she realize how easy that had been. Her mechanical leg twanged, and sparks of Arcara poured out, but the controlling pulses had been instinctual. She stayed standing as Glade intercepted the ball. He bumped it over to Phason¨¦, who sent it flying up with a punch. As the ball began to fall, Vayra jumped up and intercepted it. She swung her mechanical arm, trying to spike the ball down, but her fingers accidentally clenched at the last minute, and she ended up only giving the ball a glancing tap. It drifted over the net slowly. Still wasn¡¯t perfect control¡­ Bremi intercepted the ball and flung it back. Phason¨¦ bumped it up first, aiming for Vayra, but Vayra¡¯s legs tangled when she landed, and she tripped over a ridge of sand. If she used a Bracing technique to catch the ball, she might have made it in time, but she stopped herself. Nathariel¡¯s words rang out in her mind. You are too reliant on your magic¡ªto the point that you¡¯re losing focus of your surroundings. She let the ball bounce off the sand just in front of her fingers. Bremi and the midshipmen cheered, giving each other high-fives. Exhaling, Vayra pushed herself up and faced the rest of her team. ¡°Sorry. I should have¡ª¡± ¡°Vayra,¡± Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡°It¡¯s just a game.¡± Vayra let out another tight breath. ¡°Right.¡± Still, there was no reason not to take Nathariel¡¯s advice. She crouched down and pressed her hand into the sand, looking for the largest ridges and hazards that her prosthetic leg would need extra help navigating. ¡°Don¡¯t think about it too much,¡± Phason¨¦ said, standing right behind Vayra. The Goddess had needed mechanical limbs too due to the nature of their bond, but she seemed to have perfect control of them already. ¡°Let them move on their own, and they will. Your Arcara flow is starting to become second nature, and your prosthetics rely on Arcara flow.¡± Vayra paused for a second. ¡°Just¡­relax, and let it move?¡± ¡°That¡¯s precisely the idea. Have fun, and forget about everything for the moment. I think you¡¯ll find your limbs work a lot better that way¡­¡± Bremi served the ball again, and the next rally began. After a few passes back and forth, Glade set the ball up perfectly, and she slammed it down onto the other side of the court. Glade and Phason¨¦ met her with a cheer. At first, it looked like Glade was going to give her a professional handshake and salute, but he shook his hand out and instead gave her a high-five. Phason¨¦ followed suit. All afternoon, they passed the ball back and forth across the court. Vayra only used Arcara to control the leg, and nothing more. The longer they went and the more tired she got, the less she thought about the limb. When Glade dove for the ball and got a mouthful of sand, they all broke into laughter¡ªeven though he had missed the bump. After that, she was too busy laughing with the others to think about the limbs. When the sun began to dip down below the edge of the cove¡¯s wall, Bremi called, ¡°We¡¯re even! Tied! Next point wins!¡± Phason¨¦ served the ball, as their team had won the last point. The ball flew low across the net. Bremi blocked, and another one of the midshipmen returned it. Vayra raised a hand and jumped just in front of the net, pushing it back over the other way. One of the midshipmen blocked right away, and they had a quick rally of back-and-forth bumps before the ball flew high. ¡°Backing away?¡± Vayra called. ¡°Don¡¯t let your guard down, sis!¡± Bremi shouted back. He deflected a powerful spike from Glade. The first midshipman set the ball up, and the second launched it over¡ªall the way to the back of the sandy court. Lunging, Phason¨¦¡¯s ghostly white apparition blocked the ball and flung it back up. She lost her balance, though, and tumbled through the sand, until she reached the limit of her range away from Vayra and thudded against an invisible wall. Glade bumped the ball up again, setting Vayra up for a final strike. She hit it with the heel of her mechanical hand, flinging it just over the brink of the net. It shot through the sand beside Bremi. ¡°Last point!¡± she cheered. Phason¨¦ ran back to Vayra and caught her in a hug, but Vayra wasn¡¯t expecting the force, and they both tumbled to the ground. Even Glade cheered a little. Vayra flopped onto her back and splayed her arms out to the side, panting. But she still spared a moment to lift her head and wish the boys a ¡°Good game!¡± before dropping back onto the sand. Phason¨¦ rolled over onto her back and stared up at the darkening sky, and Glade ran over and sat down beside them. Vayra didn¡¯t move for a few minutes. She watched the sky transition from turquoise to blue and tried to pinpoint every new star that appeared. When the sky overhead turned a deep shade of blue, and the horizons glimmered with the last purples of sunset, water began to whoosh. Which it didn¡¯t normally do. Vayra pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced around. The pitcher plants were starting to tip, and waterfalls poured over the edge of the cove. The water began to rise up the beach. She glanced over at Glade, then back at Phason¨¦. ¡°The lock is filling! It¡¯s time to get going!¡± Chapter 13: Dragoons [Volume 3] By the time Vayra and the others made it back to the Harmony¡¯s main deck, the lock had already filled up halfway. Water surged down from the pitcher plants like four massive waterfalls, and when it hit the bottom of the lock, it burst into plumes of mist. She could barely see more than a few feet past the ship¡¯s railing, but the runes on the lock¡¯s doors glowed¡ªthey had closed shut when the spirit water came in contact with them. In a matter of minutes, the water level rose to the top of the cliff. Whisps of Stream water swirled around in it, and when the spirit water touched the runes of the gates at the top, they activated. Creaking and groaning, the gates at the top of the lock opened. The Harmony sloshed out onto the new river at the top of the cliff. The water level here matched the top of the lock, and the walls of stone only reached about as high as the deck. Vayra shivered, but not because she was cold. Without a deep ravine to hide in, anyone could see them for miles. It would be like raising a flag and begging people to check on them. But at least Nathariel was keeping watch. She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. Her arms were tired and sore from playing Velle-ball all afternoon, and moving her prosthetic limbs so much had taken a mental toll. ¡®We should at least try to sleep,¡¯ Phasone said, having retreated inside Vayra¡¯s head again. ¡°I¡¯ll try¡­¡± Vayra walked back to the officer¡¯s quarters and tucked into the little corner of the room that was supposed to be hers. She had a curtain for privacy, but there wasn¡¯t much to keep hidden other than a hammock. She nestled into it and pulled one of the inner sheets around herself. Within seconds, she fell asleep. Vayra woke up halfway through the night to boots pounding on the deck above and a shout, then a short whistle blast. It wasn¡¯t a full call to action¡ªthere would have been a lot more ruckus¡ªbut something was going on. Now that she was awake, her curiosity wouldn¡¯t let her leave it alone. She rolled out of the hammock, then stumbled. Phason¨¦¡¯s sandals were a little clumsy¡­ With a grunt, Vayra kicked the sandals off and traded them for her boots. She laced them up as quickly as she could, hopping across the deck to cover a little ground. Once she had them laced up, she sprinted out onto the main deck. The marines¡ªsentries for the night¡ªwere running belowdeck, and officers were pulling off their coats. They were getting rid of anything that would identify them as a ship of the Royal Velaydian Navy¡­ Vayra scrunched her eyes and ran to the quarterdeck, where she found Nathariel and Captain Pels. Glade ran up the stairs a moment later¡ªand as soon as he reached the top, Pels plunked a tricorn hat onto his head to cover his white hair. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Bluecoats,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Where?¡± Vayra perched up on her tip-toes, scanning the canal behind them. Even though it was night, the reflected light from the moons and the bright band of stars cast everything in a pale glow. Still, she couldn¡¯t see any ships. Besides, anyone who was trying to follow them would be stuck behind the locks. Ahead? Well, it would be impossible for anyone to turn around and sail the opposite direction in this canal. Even if they could get a ship turned around, there wasn¡¯t enough room to tack into the wind. ¡°First Galactic Dragoons,¡± Nathariel said, tilting his head to the larboard side. ¡°Karmion¡¯s elite cavalry.¡± ¡°Whenever one of his children enters battle, they come along,¡± Glade said. Vayra grabbed a spyglass and ran over to the quarterdeck¡¯s larboard side railing. She swept her gaze back and forth across the wheat fields, searching for dragoons. After a few seconds, she locked onto a plume of dust just to the south. ¡°Nathariel sensed them before we could see them,¡± said Pels. ¡°They¡¯re streaking right towards us. We don¡¯t have much choice but to see what they want. Can¡¯t exactly run away in these canals, eh?¡± Vayra chewed on her lip for a second. ¡®Ask him if there are any God-heirs,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Or I could just appear and do it myself, but we don¡¯t want any unnecessary attention.¡¯ Vayra asked. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°I don¡¯t sense anything,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Nothing Captain-stage or below can veil itself from my senses, so either we have a real fight on our hands, or these are all mortal bluecoats.¡± ¡°They may be mortals,¡± Glade said, ¡°but the First Galactic Dragoons are some of the best-trained warriors in Karmion¡¯s armies. We cannot take them lightly.¡± The Harmony kept its sails full for another half hour, streaming down the canal as fast as they could, before the dragoons reached them. Ten mounted riders rode along the edge of the canal. Their deep blue coats were almost black in the night, but white cloaks streamed behind them. The rider in the lead carried a blue banner emblazoned with the Elderworld crest¡ªan eagle perched on an anchor. The others carried straight sabers at their hips and muskets on their shoulders. One of the riders raised a brass cone to his mouth and shouted, ¡°Drop your sails for a mandatory inspection!¡± Of course, being bluecoats, they all wore thick black and gold masks beneath their riding helmets. They were mass-produced almost-humans, who only lasted about five years before decaying¡ªand the decay wasn¡¯t a pretty process. If what Glade had said was right, these dragoons must have spent most of their life training. Vayra shuddered, but at least they were all wearing masks. They were all bluecoats, and that meant there were no God-heirs among them. Captain Pels ran to the railing and cupped his hands around his mouth. He put on a convincing Elderworld accent, albeit a faint one, when he said, ¡°We weren¡¯t informed of any inspections! We were told this world was entirely open!¡± ¡°On command of Lady Larra of Mascant, we are to search every ship travelling inland!¡± the dragoon yelled back. ¡®Larra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®That¡¯s one of Karmion¡¯s favoured daughters. Not favoured enough to put her in line for the Sea Godhood, mind you, but still powerful. Last I knew, she was a Captain.¡¯ ¡°How¡­how many children does Karmion have?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®By all estimates, there are over a hundred of his direct lineage.¡¯ Vayra swallowed. ¡°So this Larra must be pretty good to rise above the others¡­¡± ¡®Best to assume that. If the dragoons are here, then Larra will be too¡­¡¯ Pels glanced back at everyone else and shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t drop the sails,¡± Nathariel said softly. ¡°The moment they set foot aboard the ship, they¡¯ll figure out who we are.¡± ¡°If they haven¡¯t already¡­¡± Vayra muttered. Pels stepped away from the railing, but not before sneering, ¡°Get lost, bluecoat scum!¡± He ran to the front railing of the quarterdeck and made a motion with his hand, then called, ¡°Sharpshooters to the tops! Mr. Tikks, keep the sails trimmed!¡± ¡°Down!¡± Glade yelled. The dragoons had all drawn their muskets and pointed them at the quarterdeck. Everyone dropped to the deck¡ªexcept for Vayra and Nathariel. Vayra pushed a shield of starlight into the railing, strengthening it against incoming musketfire, and Nathariel stomped his foot down, conjuring a wall of fire in front of the railing. The volley glanced off Vayra¡¯s shield or melted into sparks through Nathariel¡¯s fire. Vayra pulled her shield down right away, and Nathariel dropped his fire moments after. Five of the dragoons had pulled grappling hooks from their saddlebags. They threw them across and hooked them onto the Harmony¡¯s rigging¡ªtoo high to cut easily. The rest reloaded their muskets while riding. ¡°I¡¯ll cover the quarterdeck,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I¡¯ll take the main deck!¡± Vayra said. She drew her pistol from her belt. It hadn¡¯t been reloaded, but it didn¡¯t need to be. ¡°Glade, go with her,¡± Nathariel instructed. Vayra jumped down the quarterdeck stairs and sprinted across the main deck. One of the dragoons was swinging over already¡ªhe aimed straight for a sailor. One of the redmarines poked his head up from belowdeck, and he pointed a musket at the dragoon, but his shot missed. It was up to Vayra. She pointed her pistol at the dragoon, then, drawing in starlight from all around, fired out a beam of starlight-infused Arcara. It seared through the man¡¯s chest, leaving an inch-wide hole of burning flesh. The dragoon dropped dead immediately, but another swung across between the ships just after. He swatted Vayra¡¯s pistol aside with his saber, knocking it out of her grip, then kicked her in the chest. Another dragoon had landed in front of Glade, and the last two landed on the quarterdeck in front of Nathariel. For now, they weren¡¯t her problem. Vayra¡¯s dragoon flourished his saber, then dropped to a crouch and poured a vial of Stream water along its blade. A length of runes lit up, and when he swung it, iridescent sparks flew off into the air. Great. Magic swords. Vayra sprang back to her feet, then spun to the side just in time to avoid the dragoon¡¯s saber. It hacked straight through the railing behind her, leaving a glowing gash of embers in the wood. She held out her hand, and without asking, allowed Phason¨¦ into the hand. Her scythe wove into existence¡ªthe Goddess had known exactly what Vayra wanted. She met the dragoon¡¯s next strike with the scythe¡¯s haft. The blade latched on. Vayra pushed it away, Bracing her arms with starlight to match the bluecoat¡¯s strength, then lashed out with a pair of scythe swipes. The dragoon had already sprang away. A pair of redmarines charged him from behind, their bayonets fixed, but the dragoon sliced through the weapons then cut them both down with a single swipe. The dragoon was about to impale one of the lieutenants. Vayra lunged at the dragoon, pushing his sword away, then unleashed a rapid pattern of swipes that she¡¯d practiced hundreds of times. She had to keep his attention on her. The dragoon blocked all of her attacks except the last. She drove his blade down into the deck, and the scythe¡¯s blade cleaved him in half. She pushed Phason¨¦ out of her arm, dispelling the scythe. Glade duelled with his dragoon, blocking the mana-empowered blade with his own sword and his technique, but he had it under control. Nathariel had already incinerated his dragoons. Vayra ducked behind the mainmast to avoid a volley of musketfire from the dragoons on the shore, then whispered, ¡°Phas, how¡¯s my mana supply doing?¡± ¡®Half full. That pistol blast used a good chunk.¡¯ Vayra inhaled a smokey breath, then strengthened her legs with her Bracing technique. If she didn¡¯t deal with the dragoons ashore, they¡¯d spread the word, and reinforcements would arrive. She jumped out of cover and ran to the railing as soon as the volley ended. With a burst of power, she launched herself off and to the shore. Chapter 14: Dawnspear [Volume 3] Vayra leapt across the gap between the ship and the canal edge. Her heels touched down first and she skidded along the ground of the shore. She let herself fall on purpose to avoid the horses¡¯ trampling hooves, but rolled, then sprung up to her feet. With a quick Starlight Palm, she struck one of the horses in the flank. The bluecoat dragoon leapt off as his mount collapsed. The rest of the dragoons pulled back on their reins and halted their horses as well. They turned and trotted around, encircling her. In unison, they slung their half-reloaded muskets onto their shoulders and dismounted. As soon as they landed, they drew their sabers and poured a vial of Stream water down the blade, activating the rune pattern and setting a blaze of blue sparks along the blade. ¡®Not good,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®We shouldn¡¯t have¡ª¡¯ Before she could finish, a beam of fiery Arcara burned through one of the dragoons in an instant. Nathariel landed outside the circle. The four remaining split their attention and attacked. Vayra ducked down, then spun away from a heavy swipe. A slash caught the bicep of her mechanical arm, but just barely. It left a glowing slice on a surface panel, and nothing more. Vayra let Phason¨¦ in and conjured her scythe again. The haft had only half formed when a dragoon lunged at her, but she used what she did have to push the blade to the side. But the dragoon swiped upwards and turned his blade, and managed to score a glancing blow along her ribs. Vayra yelped. Just a shallow cut. The scythe had formed enough of a blade that, when she swept upwards, navigating around the dragoon¡¯s defences, she left a searing gash across his chest. Lunging, the second dragoon drove his sword at her neck. She ducked to the side, then entered a rally of blows with him. He blocked each of her attacks, and she dodged or deflected his. He pushed her closer to the edge of the shore¡ªor, more accurately, a short cliff¡ªand almost landed a cut down her back. But this time, she knew exactly where the cliff was. She planted her feet and redirected the dragoon¡¯s motion. As he stumbled, trying to keep his balance, Vayra hacked his head off his body. The last dragoon had swung back up onto his horse and began to gallop away. ¡°If we let him go, he will tell his God-heir where we are,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°He will have recognized the starlight magic of the Mediator.¡± ¡°Can you get him?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I could.¡± He crossed his arms and didn¡¯t move. ¡°You want me to practice?¡± ¡°Quickly, before he gets away.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t have her pistol with her anymore, but she still had one more ranged attack. ¡°Phas? How far do you think we can throw the scythe, now that we¡¯re at Lieutenant?¡± ¡®Far enough to hit him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ answered. Vayra gave the Goddess a little more control of her arm¡ªher mechanical arm. Bracing techniques worked on her mechanical limbs, so she added one to it as well, just to make it a little stronger in case Phason¨¦ overdid it. The dragoon had made it nearly fifty paces away. With a skip and a short jump, Vayra wound up, then she and Phason¨¦ flung the scythe. It whirled through the air, hissing and sputtering. Vayra expected it to dip at any moment, so she¡¯d given it a little extra height. But the Moulded Arcara didn¡¯t seem to respect gravity when it was only half-condensed into the physical world. It cleaved through the dragoon¡¯s upper body. He fell off his horse, and the mount trotted away harmlessly. The scythe dispersed before it could return to Vayra¡¯s hand. She pushed Phason¨¦ out, then deactivated the Bracing technique. ¡°That¡¯s the last of them?¡± ¡°I sensed ten, and we killed ten,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I can¡¯t sense any others.¡± He then turned around and sprang back to the Harmony, which had sailed further down the canal while they had fought the dragoons. Vayra couldn¡¯t jump that far (yet, she reminded herself), but when she strengthened her legs with starlight-Arcara, she could run fast enough to catch up. She sprinted along the edge of the cliff until she was side-by-side with the Harmony, then, with a thrust of her legs, launched herself back over to the quarterdeck. ¡°...won¡¯t be the last of them,¡± Nathariel was saying. ¡°Can we pick up the pace?¡± Vayra stood up and shook out her limbs. Her mouth was starting to get a little dry. ¡®You used a lot of mana to maintain those techniques,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Down to a third left.¡¯ ¡°We¡¯re going as fast as we can,¡± Pels said. ¡°The wind is blowing directly from the starboard, and we can¡¯t get the best angle on it if we want to keep going straight¡ªwhich I would highly advise, or we¡¯ll run ourselves into the rocks in no time.¡± ¡°Phas?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°How long until we reach the greenhouse?¡± ¡®One more day,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Then we¡¯ll arrive. Just keep moving.¡¯ This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The next day, Vayra and Glade sat on the Harmony¡¯s forecastle, cross-legged in a cycling position. ¡°When we reach the greenhouse, you will likely have many infusions of almost-purified Arcara,¡± Nathariel said, pacing in front of them. ¡°You will need a cycling technique to process it and rapidly integrate it into your spirit.¡± Vayra scratched her cheek. ¡°The Burnished Flame Loop isn¡¯t good enough?¡± ¡°That is for purifying raw mana,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It works wonders on mana gathered from Stream water, but these elixirs will be different. You will not need such a rigorous purification technique.¡± He drew a scroll of parchment out of his voidhorn, then pressed it down on the deck. ¡°So¡­it¡¯s an easier technique?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Now she has cursed us¡­¡± Glade grumbled. Nathariel clicked his tongue. ¡°He¡¯s got the right idea¡ªimpressive for a disciple of the Order of Balance.¡± Vayra shut her eyes for a moment. ¡°Alright. What¡¯s the new technique?¡± ¡°Smaller, faster rotations of Arcara near your core,¡± said Nathariel. Vayra opened her eyes. The Admiral conjured a flame on the tip of his finger and drew a line around the page of parchment, charring a pattern into it, but not so much that the page burned. ¡®Does he ever carry ink and a quill with him?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. Vayra doubted it, but she didn¡¯t dare say that out loud. ¡°Use your mana to guide the infusions of energy to your core,¡± Nathariel continued, ¡°then keep it in a close loop¡ªas I have drawn. It will cycle faster, making the infusions integrate faster. But to keep it in such a tight loop, you will need to exert a stronger pressure on it. That means it will require more willpower and take a stronger toll than any of your other cycling techniques.¡± ¡°But no physical toll, like the Burnished Flame Loop?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°You are still breathing, yes? Still using mana to guide the Arcara and help control the cycling technique?¡± It was a rhetorical question, Vayra knew, but she still said, ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then there will still be a physical toll.¡± He reached inside his voidhorn and retrieved a small vial of glimmering blue liquid. He tossed it to Glade. ¡°A weak elixir, to practice. Take a single swig. If you can integrate it into your spirit in two seconds, then you have succeeded. Keep practicing until you succeed.¡± Vayra sat still, looking at Nathariel expectantly. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°You got sliced by an iron sword last night, and though your regenerative body might have already healed the gash, you will still get iron poisoning before long. Use your own Namola elixir to practice.¡± ¡°I thought the swords were starsteel,¡± she said softly. ¡°Not iron.¡± ¡°Regular steel. Karmion cannot generate matter out of nothing; he can¡¯t afford to equip all his soldiers with pure starsteel weapons.¡± ¡°How did the blades conduct the mana, then?¡± Vayra raised a finger and paused, then looked over at Glade. ¡°Just carved with a starsteel chisel to leave a few flakes behind?¡± She recalled the Chambers on Muspellar, whose rune-powered entrances had been carved the same way. ¡°Likely,¡± Glade whispered, but he kept his head dipped respectfully towards Nathariel. She reached into her haversack and pulled out a small vial of pink liquid. She had worked with Mr. Spawlding, the ship¡¯s surgeon, to make the elixir a while ago. She hadn¡¯t picked a Namola fruit since, though¡ªshe hadn¡¯t been able to without the Mediator Form. That said, the vials she had left still contained strong spiritual energy, and were basically a spirit elixir. ¡°Get to work,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°If you can¡¯t master the technique before we reach the greenhouse, you may end up injecting too much spiritual energy all at once and tearing yourself apart.¡± By mid-afternoon, Vayra had succeeded in using the technique. With it, she chewed through the rest of the vial of elixir in barely ten seconds. When she opened her eyes, Glade was clutching his gut, his eyes wide. Was he getting seasick? ¡°Vayra,¡± he whispered. ¡°I am advancing.¡± ¡°From Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate?¡± she asked. ¡°You¡ª¡± ¡°Get Nathariel. He has what I need.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Vayra leapt to her feet and ran down from the forecastle stairs. At the bottom, she looked back, then said, ¡°Congratulations! And¡­apologies.¡± Then she ran back across the main deck, weaving between sailors and seamen and patrolling Redmarines. ¡°Nathariel! Nathariel!¡± The God-heir was already sprinting down the quarterdeck stairs. Vayra stopped in front of him and said, ¡°He¡¯s advancing, sir! To Master¡¯s Mate¡­¡± She realized the futility of it¡ªhe had likely already sensed it. Since he hadn¡¯t stopped moving, she leapt out of the way, then chased after him. He sprinted back across the main deck and jumped up to the forecastle, then knelt in front of Glade. ¡°You are certain about the body we decided on?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°I am¡­¡± Glade grunted. ¡°Then prepare yourself.¡± Nathariel pulled open his voidhorn. ¡°Vayra, a bucket of Stream water, please? As much as you can get in one scoop.¡± ¡°On its way!¡± She ran to the main deck and snatched up a pale. They had started leaving one in front of the mainmast just in case she knocked herself out or did anything incredibly mana-intensive. She wasn¡¯t ever expecting to be the one fetching water. With the bucket, she climbed down the side ladder of the Harmony, getting as close to the surface of the water as she could. Then, she dipped the bucket in, hunting for the largest wisp of Stream water she could find. She snagged an arm¡¯s-length wisp in the bucket, and it was as good as she¡¯d get. She hauled it all the way back to the forecastle. Glade rested flat on his back. After snatching up one of his hands, Vayra dipped it into the bucket. ¡°What¡¯s the process?¡± ¡°We are giving him the Dawnspear body,¡± Nathariel said. He held a vial of swirling, coral-coloured liquid. At first, she thought he was going to pour it in Glade¡¯s mouth, but he cut a light gash in Glade¡¯s hand with Glade¡¯s own sword, then poured the liquid directly on it. ¡°Dawn¡¯s Tears. An alchemical ingredient that I gathered from a Dawn-aspect sword wraith. It will strengthen his muscles, as most enhanced bodies do, but it will also improve his conductivity with bladed weapons¡ªperfect for sword-aspect God-heirs. He will be able to manifest sword techniques better, and even fight against most techniques with a bare weapon.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°Quickly, put his sword in his hand.¡± Vayra grabbed his sword off the ship¡¯s deck and wrapped his fingers around it. Blood seeped out from between his fingers, and he began to writhe. A few seconds later, he yelled and gasped¡ªuntil Nathariel shoved a wound-up cloth in his mouth for him to bite down on. ¡°Now, we wait for his body to reforge itself. He knows what to do.¡± Chapter 15: A Gods Greenhouse [Volume 3] A green speck crawled over the horizon. Vayra ran to the forecastle¡¯s front railing and leaned as far forward as she could, trying to catch the best glimpse of it. The Harmony sloshed down the canal still, but the wind had picked up, and they were moving faster. The green speck grew out of the fields like a lonely mountain¡ªif mountains were smooth and round. The enormous glass dome glinted in the evening light, and the vines and creepers clinging to the inside walls turned it green. She expected it to stop getting larger any second, but the closer they sailed, the more the scale of the facility dawned on her. The dome¡¯s surface wasn¡¯t perfectly spherical; it was made up of diamond-shaped segments, and lengths of wood ran between them. She kept her eyes pinned to the summit, but her chin kept lifting and lifting. The dome would have been large enough to cover the entirety of Tavelle three times over. An bundled array of roots leaked out from beneath the dome and dipped into the canal, drawing water up and filtering it. Each was at least ten feet in diameter, and altogether, they made an array twice the length of the Harmony. They extracted enough Stream water from the canal that they too were glowing even to normal eyes. As the Harmony passed the roots, the crew dropped the anchors and lowered the sails. They hooked the ship onto the last root in the bundle with grapples, then pulled the ship a little closer¡ªas much as the anchor would allow. If Vayra wanted, she could jump across to the roots and climb up. ¡°As close as we can get,¡± Captain Pels said, walking over. ¡°Once we get off and get into the facility, I¡¯ll have the crew move along. There¡¯s a channel on the other side of the dome, and as long as the wind keeps blowing side-wise across our deck, we can use it to get us back to the shore when you¡¯ve got what you need.¡± Of course, the wind hadn¡¯t just been blowing sideways¡ªmany times, it had blown directly from the stern¡ªso the journey back to the shore wouldn¡¯t be quick. That meant there wasn¡¯t an easy escape, either. ¡°We¡¯ll be quick,¡± Vayra said. ¡°In and out. I¡¯ll¡­go get ready.¡± First, she ran down to the infirmary. Glade was recovering from his advancement. He hadn¡¯t needed any medical attention, but just in case, they had laid him on a cot. When Vayra ran in, Nathariel was waiting beside him, talking softly and explaining the next steps of the Master stages. As soon as there was a gap in the conversation, Vayra said, ¡°We¡¯ve arrived.¡± Captain Pels had followed her down to the infirmary. ¡°Do you have everything?¡± Vayra patted her haversack. ¡°Books, elixirs, rations.¡± Then she patted her belt. ¡°Pistol, canteen, boots, cloak¡­I should be good to go.¡± Glade pushed himself up. His body had left a stain of dark detritus and expulsions on the bed¡ªas was expected from a bodily-enhancement advancement¡ªbut there was something a little different about him. His jaw was sharper, his eyes more intense, and his shoulders slightly broader. ¡°I feel like I could run to the shore and back, and still have time to spare.¡± And, to top it all off, one of his locks of hair had changed colour. A single length off to the side of his head was a yellow-pink gradient, just like the dawn sky. ¡°I was about to ask if you were feeling ready¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Of course he¡¯s feeling ready¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ remarked. ¡®You remember how you felt when you advanced from Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate?¡¯ She did. Glade swung his legs over the edge of the cot and pulled his black coat on, then fastened his sword to his hip. ¡°I am ready.¡± They both looked at Nathariel. ¡°I¡¯m always ready,¡± he said, his arms crossed. His voidhorn hung from his hip, and his spear was still on his back. ¡°Now, hold on a sec,¡± Pels said. ¡°We¡¯re leaving right now? Just let me¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re coming with us?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s the best idea¡­¡± Pels snorted. ¡°You¡¯d have it worse without me. How¡¯re you going to find the Harmony when you¡¯re done?¡± ¡°Nathariel will sense the crew and guide us to you,¡± Glade said. ¡°Apologies, Captain, but it will be dangerous in there¡­¡± ¡°This area will be swamped with mortals and their ships, soon.¡± Pels gave Nathariel a nudge with his elbow. ¡°He might be good, but I don¡¯t think he can pick us, a bunch of mere mortals, out of a crowd. No, you need a captain who knows the¡­admittedly unusual hiding tactics of his crew. The lieutenants can get the ship turned around¡ªMcHyll knows what to do.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna be long,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Knowing you three, I highly doubt that. Advancement-crazed, and all. ¡®Oh, just one more elixir¡¯. Yeah, right.¡± ¡°How¡¯re they going to hide the ship, then?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°They¡¯ll get it tangled into some far-off roots real good, then dress up the mast to look like a crumbling ruin,¡± Pels said. ¡°But frankly, I don¡¯t know where they¡¯ll choose, and neither will you. If you want to find the ship again in a reasonable time, I¡¯d strongly suggest that I come with you. ¡°If you must.¡± Nathariel turned around and walked to the infirmary door. ¡°Be on deck in five minutes, or we leave without you. I¡¯m going to get the Adepts, but the Redmarines stay aboard.¡± They gathered at the railing in five minutes. The Order of Balance Adepts, each armed with a silver longsword, shifted nervously in front of Nathariel as he outlined his expectations for them¡ªthey were to be an extra set of eyes, and guards at all times. Pels emerged from below deck in his coat and tricorn, but he wore a bandolier with four pistols tucked into it. ¡°Those won¡¯t do him much good,¡± Nathariel muttered, ¡°but if it makes him feel better, then I suppose he¡¯s welcome to it.¡± Pels put a hand on Glade and Vayra¡¯s shoulders, then said, ¡°Off we go!¡± ¡®Is something up with him?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°Just usual¡­Pels-i-ness,¡± Vayra whispered back. ¡°Dunno.¡± ¡°I heard that,¡± Pels shot back at Vayra. ¡°Don¡¯t know what your head-voice was telling you, but I¡¯m not looking to let you guys get lost again. And you, missy, can¡¯t go losing any more limbs on my watch.¡± Vayra and Nathariel jumped over the railing and over to the massive roots. Nathariel made it all the way up to the top of the root in a single leap, where it curved around the edge of the cliff and led towards the greenhouse. Having less raw strength, Vayra made it halfway to the top, and instead clutched onto the little white hairs that hung off the root¡¯s side. As the Adepts and Captain Pels began to climb across on the grapples, Glade stepped up onto the railing. He shifted side to side, then bent his legs and crouched down. The moment he began to wobble, he sprang forwards. As far as Vayra knew, he didn¡¯t have a Bracing technique, and sword-Arcara wielders were only able to strengthen the blades of their swords. They had to rely on the power of their enhanced bodies alone. Glade soared through the air. He reached out with his arms collided with the root halfway up, snagging onto the hairs of the root to keep himself up. He had landed only a few feet below Vayra. That was a first try¡ªand without any practice. Vayra glanced up at Nathariel. ¡°What kind of body did you give him, again?¡± Nathariel said plainly, ¡°It is called Dawnspear.¡± ¡°That was rhetorical¡­¡± Vayra climbed, hauling herself hand over hand up the root until she reached the top. A few seconds later, Glade hauled himself up, too, barely panting. ¡°Be careful,¡± Nathariel warned. ¡°Your enhanced body eats mana as you cycle Arcara through your muscles. You aren¡¯t used to using it, and it won¡¯t be efficient¡ªtake care not to run yourself too low, or you will only be as strong as a mortal man again.¡± Vayra¡¯s body, being suited for spiritual repair and fast healing, used mana and Arcara for those purposes. She hadn¡¯t considered the consistent costs of a regular, strength-based enhancement. Without waiting for the Adepts to finish crossing, Nathariel set off down the root. From the canal, the greenhouse had looked a lot closer, but it was still a few hundred feet from the edge of the shore. They walked along the root, weaving between a few larger spines and pointy tendrils. The excess water¡ªfreshwater from the canal, not Stream water¡ªwhisked off the tips of the hairs. First, it turned to dew, then it evaporated, leaving only Stream water in the root. Vayra pulled her canteen off her belt. Currently, it was filled with watered-down rum from the Harmony¡¯s store, but she dumped it out and filled it with pure, fresh water instead. As they walked, she scooped dew droplets off the roots¡¯ hairs. ¡®Considering you¡¯re such a lightweight,¡¯ Phason¨¦ remarked, ¡®we don¡¯t need you getting drunk off a deep swig.¡¯ Vayra shook her head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t take that little¡­¡± They reached the edge of the dome. The glass-and-wood frame pressed right up against the top of the root, and there wasn¡¯t even an inch-wide gap. In some places, the root even bulged around the dome¡¯s edge. ¡®That¡¯s what we get after leaving it unattended for nearly a hundred years,¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. ¡°Can we just¡­break a pane?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Spiritual sight,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Use it.¡± He turned to Glade, then offered a short instruction on how to use his spiritual sight¡ªsince he was now a Master¡¯s Mate, he could start to learn it. Immediately, he grasped his eyes, like he had just stared at the sun. ¡°Well¡­he got it,¡± Vayra muttered. Nathariel shook his head. ¡°That was the easy part. He must control it. Keep practicing.¡± Vayra turned back to the glass dome and used her own spiritual sight while staring at the glass panes. Indeed, on the outside, it was a layer of normal glass. But just behind it, a layer of thick Moulded Arcara waited. It was transparent to the regular eye¡ªwhatever aspect it was¡ªbut in her spiritual sight, it looked like frosted glass. For good measure, Nathariel blasted the nearest diamond-shaped pane with a bolt of flame. The exterior glass shattered, but the fire scattered harmlessly on the Moulded Arcara. For a brief instant, the Arcara shimmered green. Then, a pulse of force launched out, flinging the three of them back down the root. Brushing himself off, Nathariel climbed to his feet¡ªjust in time for the Pels and the five Order Adepts to catch up. They must have known better than to ask if the three were alright. ¡°We need a proper door,¡± he said, ¡°or we¡¯re never getting in. That¡¯s Emissary-grade Arcara, strengthened by the authority of Talock himself.¡± ¡®Oh, I was waiting for this. Time for Phason¨¦ to prove her worth.¡¯ A white glow erupted behind Vayra, shining over the nine of them. Phason¨¦ appeared, shimmering and ghostly as ever. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing I know where the door is! Follow me, if you please.¡± She leapt off the side of the root, and Vayra had no choice but to chase after her. Chapter 16: Wedge [Volume 3] Vayra chased after Phason¨¦ around the side of the greenhouse. They ran, Vayra only a few paces behind the Goddess¡¯ apparition. The others trailed further behind. By now, they had made it a quarter of the way around the dome, and Vayra still hadn¡¯t seen an entrance. The sun had set completely, and Phason¨¦¡¯s form shone brightly ahead of them, illuminating the field for fifty paces in every direction. ¡°You¡¯d think¡­¡± Vayra panted, ¡°...that your brother would¡¯ve put the entrance somewhere closer¡­to the canal¡­¡± ¡°He put it halfway between two canals,¡± Phason¨¦ replied. On the other side of the greenhouse, another river plowed through the land. Vayra squinted. Was that a mast on the other side of the canal? But there were no lanterns or ships¡¯ lights¡ªonly an upright spar of wood peering above the ridge at the edges of the canal. ¡°Just debris¡­¡± Vayra told herself. ¡°Up ahead and to your left!¡± Phason¨¦ called. An archway bit into the side of the dome. It was nearly three storeys tall, but considering the size of the dome, it felt much too small. Until Vayra realized that they would have to get the doors open. Two wooden gates spanned the entire height of the archway, and she didn¡¯t want to think about how thick they were¡ªlet alone how they¡¯d get the tangle of vines and flowering plants off the door. She stopped in front of it, ten paces away so that she could see the entirety of the door still, and placed her hands down on her knees. Glade and Nathariel arrived a moment later. Nathariel nodded in acceptance, then said, ¡°I should be able to heave the gate open if I push my body to its limit¡ªand with a little help from Glade.¡± After a few seconds to catch her breath, Vayra stepped forwards and placed a hand on the door just to test it. She tried pushing on it, but her feet just slipped back through the dirt and grass. She¡¯d leave it to the people with strength-based bodies, then. ¡°Vayra, watch out!¡± Phason¨¦ called. One of the vines snapped to life, whipping around on the ground like an angry snake. It wrapped around the ankle of her mechanical leg and hoisted her off the ground. She let out a short yelp, then cleared her mind with a quick exhale. The plant had just hoisted her up. It alone wasn¡¯t enough to be a threat, but more were closing in, poised to skewer or squish her. She needed to cut herself free. Holding out her hand, she called, ¡°Phas, scythe?¡± ¡°I¡¯m outside your body!¡± Phason¨¦ yelled. The scythe appeared in her ghost¡¯s hand as a white apparition, but that was it. Not in Vayra¡¯s hand, so not useful at the moment. With a grunt of effort, Vayra craned herself upwards and blasted a Starlight Palm into the vine. The explosion sheared away half the vine¡¯s body. She let out another, blasting away the rest of the vine. At least that technique still worked. She landed on her back at the base of the door, then scrambled back to where the others were standing. ¡°A little help would have been nice,¡± she grumbled, pushing herself up. ¡°And allow you to miss out on a valuable learning opportunity?¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°Not at all.¡± ¡°Learning?¡± ¡°What do you know now?¡± ¡°That¡­I can¡¯t use our scythe if she¡±¡ªVayra pointed her thumb back at Phason¨¦¡ª¡°is outside my body.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°And that the vines are hungry?¡± ¡°There you are.¡± Nathariel motioned towards Glade, beckoning him to the door. He took a step towards it, his arms glowing orange with a powerful Bracing technique. ¡°With me, Disciple.¡± Vayra sighed, then looked back at Pels and the Adepts. ¡°Translation: he wants the rest of us to keep the vines off him¡­¡± She ran up beside him and Glade, though made sure to stay closer to Glade¡ªhe would need more protection. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost, scythe in hand, approached on the other side. The Adepts held up their swords, making a semi-circle around the two pushers in a well-practiced formation. Pels drew one of his pistols and turned it over in his hand so he could swat the vines away without firing a shot. As soon as Glade and Nathariel set their hands on the door, the vines surged towards them. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Vayra blasted the nearest vines with Starlight palms. They reached out with snapping heads¡ªlike a snake¡¯s maw, but less rigid. If she annihilated the head with a single blast, the vine backed away, but sometimes, she hit the stem, and it took two or three more blasts. More and more vines surged along the ground. The plants clinging to the gate had started to wake up as well, and now, she had to defend from two directions. She traded arms, unleashing Starlight Palms as fast as she could. White sparks filled the air¡ªfrom her repeated attacks and from Phason¨¦¡¯s whirling scythe. She chopped up plants and flowers, and a little bit of overgrown wheat as well. The rest of the Adepts hacked at the plants, smashing off their heads and cleaving the vines apart. The door creaked, then with a hiss, it groaned open. A gust of steam blew out, followed by a wave of humid air. Glade and Nathariel strained, and the doors kept shifting. They weren¡¯t just working against the weight of the doors, though. Over the decades, mud had accumulated at the door¡¯s base, and they had to plow the gates straight through the earth. When they opened the gates enough that even the bulkiest Adept could fit through, Nathariel and Glade stopped pushing. ¡°In!¡± Nathariel shouted. ¡°Get inside!¡± Glade ran inside first, followed by a few of the Adepts, then Vayra, Phason¨¦ and Pels. Nathariel was the last inside. Without the earth to work against him, he wedged his shoulder into one of the gates and slammed it shut, then pushed the other shut beside it. A few vines had reached through, trying to snap at the intruders, but the doors sliced off their heads when they slammed shut. Vayra sucked in a slow breath of humid, peat-smelling air, and spun around in a slow circle. They had arrived in a foyer of sorts, though it was still large enough to fit a cathedral inside it. But, compared to the rest of the dome, it was still miniature. The walls were glass, just like the outside, except inside, the frame was cracking. When Vayra looked at it with her spiritual sight, there were cracks in the Moulded Arcara shields. Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Phas? Is this place gonna fall apart on us?¡± The air caught in her throat, as if half of it was made of water. It was twice as warm inside as it was outside. Phason¨¦¡¯s projection put her hands on her hips. ¡°The inside structure, maybe¡­¡± she said. ¡°The Arcara here doesn¡¯t look as firmly Moulded here as the Arcara outside. Without my brother to maintain it¡­it¡¯s starting to come apart.¡± Phason¨¦ walked across the foyer, and Vayra followed her. The floor here was still mud, and a thin layer of moss had started growing on it. The floor sank with each step. Phason¨¦ placed a hand on the wall. ¡°I remember him bringing me here¡­when I was really little. He was still building this dome. Velaydia still ruled the galaxy, and there was peace¡­¡± A glass wall divided the entire dome in half, and the foyer had been inserted in the very middle of the wall. All the way along the wall, it was the only gap in the dividing wall. ¡°He was putting up the central wall,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It was there that he helped me break through from Mate to Quartermaster. I was¡­three decades old, maybe? He showed me Arcara formations and taught me how to compress and Mould it.¡± She placed her hand on a section of glass-Arcara that was especially cracked in Vayra¡¯s spiritual sight. ¡°I helped make this one.¡± Vayra could tell, but she didn¡¯t say that aloud¡ª ¡°I can still read your thoughts.¡± ¡°Shit¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± ¡°Are you alright?¡± Vayra stepped up beside Phason¨¦ and leaned against her outline. ¡°You¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine. We need a direction to go, and¡­¡± Phason¨¦ pointed to a smaller doorway in the side of the dome. It led to the eastern half of the dome. ¡°On that side, we¡¯ll find the refineries.¡± Vayra peered through the glass of the foyer. By now, the others had caught up, and they were looking through the glass as well. There was no artificial light anywhere in the greenhouse, but channels of Stream water ran all around the glass structure, flowing down along wooden tubes, hanging platforms, and terraformed slices of land. On the eastern side of the dome, the Stream water started at the top. The enormous roots wound all the way up the wall like a twisted tree. It deposited Stream water out into a basin at the top, which flowed down between hundreds of different pitcher plants and vine systems until it reached the bottom. Where the bottom started and began was hard to say. The land formed a neatly-arranged metropolis¡ªhundreds of miles of terraformed land, laden with oversized trees, grass, and flowers. Vayra rubbed her forehead. ¡°So, I suppose we¡¯ll find elixirs on the east side,¡± she said. ¡°If we can find a well.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be at low ground, where the purified and partially-cycled spirit water ends up,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°So you¡¯re feeding the kids plant guts, eh?¡± Pels asked. ¡°Which side?¡± On the western side, even larger plants grew. A few deciduous trees reached up to the very top of the dome, burdened with so much orange fruit that Vayra couldn¡¯t even see the leaves. Orchards covered the terraformed ground. ¡°Spirit fruits,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Top grade ones¡ªfor improving bodily constitution and further refining. And those conks clinging to the wall will make for some excellent¡­experimental material.¡± ¡°Which way should we go?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°If we head east first, you can gather as much refined spirit water as you can find,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°We will accumulate as much as we can, then head west and see if we can¡¯t find some more precise solutions with the spirit fruits.¡± He turned to Phason¨¦. ¡°Goddess, is there any way through the central wall?¡± ¡°Only here,¡± Phason¨¦ said, ¡°and at the upper observation platform.¡± She pointed up to the very top of the dome, where a smaller sphere much like the foyer hung. Before Nathariel could respond, the roof above shattered. Shards of wood, glass, and Arcara rained down. A wedge of glass smashed down through the center of the room, spearing straight through one of the Adepts and slicing him in half. Glade, Nathariel, and Pels leapt to the west, and Vayra and Phason¨¦ leapt to the east. It was a wedge of the outer dome¡ªstrong and perfectly formed, and large enough to divide the entire foyer in half. Three of the Adepts made it to the same side as Vayra and Phason¨¦, and one ended up on the other side. Vayra ran down the length of the glass wedge, trying to find a gap in it. But it had jammed straight into the ground, leaving no gaps to slip through. Even the door to the outside had been blocked. Nathariel tried blasting it with a pulse of flame, but just like the outside wall, it repelled him. Incredibly inconvenient, and horrible luck. ¡°I¡­wouldn¡¯t put that down to luck,¡± Phason¨¦ said. The door to the eastern half of the dome opened, and a tall woman in a coat strode through. She wore a tricorn hat. A plume of water-Arcara flowed out of it. ¡°Not luck, I¡¯m afraid,¡± the woman said. ¡°Not luck at all.¡± Chapter 17: The Daughter [Volume 3] Phason¨¦ retreated back inside Vayra¡¯s body. As soon as the white, glowing manifestation of the goddess disappeared, Vayra gave up control of her hand. Just the scythe reappeared, now in Vayra¡¯s grip and ready to fight with. The Order of Balance Adepts rushed in front of Vayra, holding their swords up. Two of them rested their swords on their forearms, and the third held her weapon down by her side with an iron grip. A simple sword technique glinted down the edge of their weapons. The woman strode through the eastern door, stepping into a ray of moonlight. Her coat fell around her shoulders like an ocean made of void¡ªthe darkest sea Vayra had ever seen¡ªand its ends rippled white with frothy waves. A wolf with a mane of pure rippling water trotted behind her, growling and gnashing its teeth. Vayra couldn¡¯t even feel a buzzing in the back of her neck. Was this¡­a mortal? Then the woman ripped three batons out of her coat¡¯s inner pocket and tossed them up into the air. As they fell, she pointed her fingers, sending a string of water through a hole in the center of every baton. She clenched her fist, and they snapped together into a three-part staff. When she caught it, she gave it a whirl, and the segments sloshed back and forth like a whip. The tip struck the mud, kicking up a blast of dirt. Definitely a God-heir. ¡®One of Karmion¡¯s heirs,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s head. On the other side of the glass divider, Nathariel was yelling, but his voice was so muffled that Vayra couldn¡¯t make out any words. She stepped forwards and wedged herself into the formation of Order Adepts. ¡°Whoever she is,¡± she told the three, ¡°we¡¯ll take her together.¡± The Adepts nodded. Then the God-heir threw off her cloak and coat. It was like a veil had been ripped off her spirit. An instant buzz seared the back of Vayra¡¯s neck, and the Adepts winced as well. Under her coat, the God-heir wore a simple, sleeveless fighting tunic and a cravat Moulded from water-Arcara. Vayra slammed her eyes shut for a second to reign the sensation under control. When she opened them, the God-heir and her wolf were already charging. ¡®It¡¯s Larra!¡¯ Phason¨¦ snapped. One of the Adepts intercepted Larra, and another engaged the wolf. The first Adept¡¯s sword glanced off the tip of the three-part staff. His sword technique struck with enough force to push the staff up, the thin line of Arcara bursting out into sparks. But it didn¡¯t even leave a dent in the staff. The other third of the staff snapped towards the Adept¡¯s head, and Vayra intercepted it with a swipe of her scythe. Vayra met Larra¡¯s eyes, and the both of them asserted a mutual scan of each other¡¯s spirits. ¡°Commodore¡­¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°Third Lieutenant!¡± Larra hissed. With a palm strike, Larra sent Vayra skidding back across the foyer. Vayra protected her chest with a shield of starlight, preventing her own ribs from shattering and cracking under the weight of the blow. Vayra came to a halt against the glass wedge dividing the foyer. Glade, Nathariel, and the other Adept all pounded on the glass with techniques, while Pels shuffled around the bottom, as if looking for a way through. But they were all on the other side, and that barrier was built by a God. ¡®They¡¯re not getting through that,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®We¡¯re on our own.¡¯ ¡°I thought you said Larra was a Captain¡­¡± ¡®I thought she was!¡¯ ¡°Well, she¡¯s exerting the strength of a Commodore, whatever she¡¯s doing.¡± Pressing her hands against the glass behind her, Vayra pushed herself up to a standing position and grabbed the scythe with both hands. ¡°We don¡¯t have much of a choice.¡± Phason¨¦ warned, ¡®She¡¯s a maybe-Commodore¡­¡¯ ¡°We beat Myrrir before.¡± ¡®And you had the Mediator Form then. Or help from Nathariel.¡¯ The Adepts attacked Larra from all sides, their swords whirling and spinning. Every one of them was a master swordsman, and two of them were Master¡¯s Mates¡ªmeaning they had enhanced bodies. Their swords flashed silver, whirling through the air and sparking against Larra¡¯s three-part staff or the wolf¡¯s maw. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. But they weren¡¯t God-heirs. With such low spirit potential, they didn¡¯t have much mana to spare, nor Arcara to use. Aside from strengthening their swords, only one used another technique¡ªshe mustered a thin set of claws on the tips of her fingers and slashed the wolf¡¯s muzzle. As Vayra ran back to the fight, the Adepts started to slow down, fighting defensively and conservatively, favouring defense over offense. They backed away. Their enhanced bodies weren¡¯t anywhere near the strength of Glade¡¯s, and they hadn¡¯t been sponsored by an Admiral. When Vayra made it halfway to Larra, the Captain¡¯s staff snapped up, smashing straight through one of the Adept¡¯s heads like it was a gourd. The rest of his body crumpled. Vayra¡¯s mouth slipped open and she stopped for a second. With enhanced bodies, the Adepts shouldn¡¯t have been so vulnerable¡­ That meant they were already out of mana. Vayra sprinted. Before she arrived, the two other Adepts leapt in, trying to exploit a gap in Larra¡¯s guard. The wolf tackled one and pinned her arms, then ripped her throat out with a single bite. Larra yelled, then spun around and delivered a heavy smash to the top of the last Adept¡¯s head, splitting his skull. Vayra skittered to a halt. The Adepts were gone in a matter of seconds. She widened her stance and backed up defensively, but Larra continued her assault. She dropped strike after strike on Vayra. Each blow, Vayra pushed to the side with the haft of her scythe, deflecting or blocking. She Braced her arms with starlight just to stop them from crumpling under the weight of the blows. Then Larra Braced her arms as well. She gave a brutish smirk as tendrils of freshwater snaked down her forearms and wound around her wrists. When the next blow came, Vayra didn¡¯t even try to block it. The staff smashed down into the mud, kicking up a valley of debris and loose moss. The shockwave blasted Vayra off her feet. ¡®Look out!¡¯ Phason¨¦ yelled. ¡®Roll to the left, now!¡¯ Larra pounced towards her, stomping down with her foot. When it struck the ground, it sent a shock for a few paces. Vayra rolled away just in time, Larra¡¯s staff smashed down. Vayra blocked the tip of it with the haft of her scythe, but there was too much force for her to handle. Her elbows buckled and the scythe¡¯s shaft snapped back into her nose. The three-part staff bent at its top third, and the middle struck Vayra in the gut¡ªshe cast a starlight shield over her stomach to absorb the blow. It absorbed the blow, but the shield shattered, ripping mana out of her body and scattering it like motes of dust. Bracing her leg, Vayra kicked out and struck Larra in the knee. The Commodore took a step back¡ªlong enough to Vayra to leap back to her feet and whirl her scythe up into a ready position. Spitting clear blood out her mouth, Vayra led with a low swipe of her scythe. She aimed for Larra¡¯s thighs. The woman twirled her staff side to side, only giving ground in inches. Her wolf paced back and forth behind her, snarling and licking its slashed muzzle. Its eyes glinted yellow, though. If it needed to protect its master, it would. When Larra¡¯s back pressed up against the glass wall at the eastern edge of the foyer, she held her arms out and grinned. She blocked Vayra¡¯s next swipe, but didn¡¯t give any ground. Her arms weren¡¯t even straining. Then, as if to assert even more superiority, Larra let go of the staff with one hand. A freshwater-Arcara mixture curled up from the gaps in the staff and grasped the blade of Vayra¡¯s scythe, holding it in place. The scythe glowed brighter and screeched. The staff¡¯s surface glowed red hot, but the scythe couldn¡¯t cut through it instantly. The water-Arcara mixture turned to steam, but there was always more to replace it. ¡®Probably a gemstone-steel mixture,¡¯ Phason¨¦ posited. ¡®Like Hammontor¡¯s hooks.¡¯ More and more water evaporated every second, but the steam, still under control of Larra, whistled back to her arm and condensed, replenishing itself. With her free hand, Larra stroked her wolf¡¯s mane. The wolf grinned as well. ¡°What do you say, Gnasher?¡± Larra asked as Vayra strained against the bind. ¡°Shall we take it up a notch?¡± The wolf (Gnasher, apparently) sneered. It lifted its lips, revealing a maw of yellow teeth¡ªall except one fang. It was pure black, with veins of iridescent Stream water flowing through it. ¡®An Admiral-level weapon¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ breathed. The veins in the tooth surged brighter, and suddenly, the buzz in the back of Vayra¡¯s mind doubled. Larra¡¯s Arcara-grade increased yet another stage, and instead of pushing against just a wall, it felt like Vayra was trying to push against a mountain. ¡°Admiral¡­¡± Vayra breathed. She pushed Phason¨¦ out of her hand, dispelling the scythe and freeing herself from the bind. She stumbled a step back, then shifted to the side to dodge another heavy smash of Larra¡¯s staff. ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel yelled, his voice booming through the glass. Glade, Pels, and the Adept on the other side all plugged their ears, but their eyes were wide still. She didn¡¯t want to know how loud it would have been right next to him. ¡°You are smaller! You are faster, more agile! You have tools to fight brutes!¡± ¡®Not Admiral-stage brutes, and not with only a quarter of your mana left,¡¯ Phason¨¦ hissed urgently. ¡°That little?¡± Larra lunged and slammed her staff into the ground once more, throwing up a wall of debris. Vayra rolled to the side, but dirt still rained down on her. ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel yelled again. ¡°You are not a weak street-rat anymore! You are much more! Build your Path, and survive! You have everything you need!¡± Vayra grabbed a handful of mud and tossed it over Larra¡¯s boot, then pushed a shield into it. When Larra tried to take her next step, it stuck in place only a little longer. Larra stumbled, and Vayra took her chance. She slipped past. Gnasher tried to pounce on her, but he was nowhere near as strong as his master. Vayra blasted the wolf with a Starlight Palm, pushing it aside, then scrambled out the open eastern door beside Larra. She ran out into the greenhouse. Chapter 18: Divided [Volume 3] Vayra ran out into the open fields of the greenhouse, Bracing her legs to run faster. She picked up speed, and soon, her footsteps were carving a wake of dust behind her. She crossed through fields of glowing blue spirit grains and splashed through rivers of purified, vibrant Stream water. She leapt down terraformed slices of earth and slid down overgrown slopes until she was deep in a valley. Sparks of mana floated in the air, and when they hit her arms and legs, they absorbed into her body. It wasn¡¯t enough to replenish her Bracing techniques, though. Gradually, her mana stores depleted as she ran across the bottom of the greenhouse. Phason¨¦ gave constant reminders. She needed to lose Larra. She needed to get out of sight and hide her scent from that wolf, too. She ran along the side of the valley, on a broad ledge covered in waist-high wheat and juniper saplings with glowing needles. Ahead, a forest of three-storey-tall flowers covered the blocky ledges of the valley. They reminded her of roses, but they had no stem, and their petals were magenta. As she ran, she made sure to cycle Arcara through her limbs as quickly as she could, clearing out the char and debris in her channels as soon as the Bracing technique created it. She also pushed Arcara up to her damaged nose, fuelling the enhanced healing of her body. After a few minutes, it stopped bleeding. When she was a few paces from the flower forest, it snapped back into place, like it had never been hurt at all. A few minutes into the forest, she knew she needed something to hide her scent. She stopped beside a flower and prodded it to make sure it wouldn¡¯t move to attack or eat her. It didn¡¯t even flinch¡ªit wasn¡¯t alive in the same way the guardian vines were. She peeled the petals down until she reached the pollen-filled core of the flower. It smelled of a perfume so intense that her nostrils stung, so she breathed through her mouth as she coated herself in the yellow powder. It¡¯d have to mask her scent, though. For a few more minutes, she ran through the forest. She leapt over another stream of spirit water, then plowed through a patch of brambles. As she ventured deeper into the forest, the flowers grew so tall and broad that she couldn¡¯t see the greenhouse dome above. It had to be safe. She flopped down on her back amidst a patch of normal-sized grass, moss, and soft mud. In a matter of minutes, exhaustion took over, and she half-fell-asleep and half-passed-out. Glade couldn¡¯t do anything but watch. He clenched his fists and slammed then against the glass wall, having depleted all of his mana trying desperately to break through. Specks whirled in front of his eyes. His lips had cracked, and his skin felt like it would flake off at any moment. He¡¯d never been so dehydrated in his life. A few seconds after Vayra bolted, Larra chased after. She managed a decent jog, but for an Admiral, her speed left a lot to be desired. With each step she took, though, the ground trembled and shook. Soon, she passed out of sight, and a feeling of helplessness washed over Glade. Whatever stage that God-heir was actually at didn¡¯t matter. Vayra was trapped on the eastern side of the greenhouse with someone who could exert the power of an Admiral at will. Or by petting a wolf¡ªhowever that had happened. ¡°We could try climbing over,¡± Pels said. They all looked up. The wedge of glass had fallen from somewhere on the western side of the greenhouse and sheared straight through the foyer, dividing it in half. But the foyer¡¯s walls were still strong enough that, despite the wedge of outer dome smashing through it, the majority of the structure was still intact. ¡°I cannot see a gap that any of us could fit through,¡± Glade said. ¡°Nor anything on the western side.¡± The last remaining Order Adept nodded, and Nathariel said, ¡°Aye, neither do I.¡± Pels knelt down and began to reload one of his pistols. He had fired it at the wall, but nothing had come of it. ¡°This place is falling apart. If a wedge of the outer dome could have fallen here, it could fall anywhere.¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Perhaps if we wait long enough, another shard will fall, and it will either crush the outer wall of the foyer or give us a route over to the east side,¡± suggested the last Adept, an elven woman named Galiris, who had an enormous scar through her left eye. She flourished her sword and tucked it into her sheath. She was only a quartermaster, and Glade was technically more powerful than her now, but he hadn¡¯t been made an Adept yet¡ªshe still outranked him in that regard. ¡°Shards of glass don¡¯t just fall in the precise, most inconvenient place possible,¡± Nathariel said. He pointed up at the main dome of the greenhouse. ¡°Nothing has fallen off the eastern side at all. But if we couldn¡¯t touch the Moulded Arcara, then neither could Larra¡ªthere¡¯s no way that power-scaling technique of hers goes up to Grand Admiral, let alone the Emissary Realm.¡± Glade was inclined to agree. ¡°Especially not when the dome was put in place by a God. Or¡­Emissary, I suppose, however they name themselves.¡± ¡°The east side might be intact,¡± said Pels, ¡°but the west side is looking a little worse for wear.¡± Scaffolding clung to the outer wall of the western side, supporting large banks of the outer glass. They might not have been able to break the sheets apart, but the scaffolding was just trellises up trellises of wood. If that fell, sections of the western half of the dome could come down. ¡°A little tampering by your God-heir, and she probably could have dropped something on use exactly where she needed,¡± Pels continued. ¡°There is still the matter of where we go now, and what we do,¡± Galiris said. ¡°We cannot wait around and let the Mediator stay in danger.¡± ¡°There¡¯s only one way over to the other side of the dome,¡± said Nathariel. He waved his finger through the air, drawing a ring of fire that circled the upper chamber. ¡°And we will have a long climb to get there.¡± Glade tried to pick out a way up the side of the dome, or up the center wall, just tracing it with his eyes. But he identified nothing at the moment. Maybe if they jumped from the scaffolding over to a large conk, then up a set of vines, but that was a long shot. ¡°And we have more than one job here,¡± Nathariel continued. He looked directly at Glade, his burning orange eyes searing into Glade¡¯s forehead. ¡°We have another potential contestant for the Skyclash tournament, who needs to make it to Captain, whatever the cost.¡± ¡°Advancing so quickly will cripple him beyond that,¡± Galiris said. ¡°It is impossible for a God-heir, let alone a young man with low spirit potential. And even if it was, it would ruin his channels and tear apart his core. You would throw away one of our strongest, most promising disciples?¡± ¡°If he holds a Godhood, a shattered spirit would be no more than a cracked toenail¡ªa mild inconvenience, and repairable in a matter of weeks.¡± Nathariel stepped closer and set his hands on Glade¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You have inserted yourself into fate, boy, and now you must ride that course to its conclusion.¡± Glade sighed. ¡°Vayra cannot take Talock¡¯s Godhood, correct?¡± ¡°You are our best candidate. She has other powers to contend with Karmion. She¡¯ll clear the way for you, but it¡¯s up to you to bring it home.¡± Glade nodded. ¡°Then I will do it. But we had better keep climbing. My duty, my pledge, is still to serve the Mediator. I will advance as we climb towards the central dome.¡± ¡°Now, hold up a second,¡± Pels said. ¡°We make it up there, cross over, what then? We all take on the crazy water lady together? We don¡¯t know if Vayra will even try to meet us up there.¡± He wrung his hands together nervously. ¡°Aye, we don¡¯t,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°But that room likely has some sort of control ability in it. Rune-lines, starsteel wires, the like.¡± ¡°You think there¡¯s a way to drop the central wall?¡± Pels asked. ¡°Not necessarily drop it, but to cross over. Why would you divide a greenhouse in half¡ª¡± ¡°To control different temperatures and separate plants that don¡¯t play nice?¡± Galiris provided. ¡°¡ªif there was no way of easily transporting materials from one side to the other.¡± Nathariel motioned from one side of the greenhouse to the other. ¡°The east side is packed with raw refineries. The west side, with more specialized resources. There would haveto be some exchange of resources.¡± Glade scrunched his eyebrows. Despite being abandoned, the west side of the facility seemed to be operating perfectly fine. The trees were growing and producing fruit, at least. He chewed his lip, then said, ¡°There has to be a way for the water to get back and forth between them.¡± ¡°Root pumps,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Just like on the way in, they¡¯ll be pressed up against the glass, and we won¡¯t get through that way, either.¡± ¡°Well, doesn¡¯t seem like we have much of a choice.¡± Pels marched over to the door to the western side of the greenhouse. ¡°We still have a way out on our side,¡± Nathariel said, unmoving. ¡°You can head back, Captain.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pass.¡± Pels pushed on the door. It was a sliding wooden gate, only about two storeys tall, with a single panel. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving our Mediator out there alone, and by the Streamfather, I¡¯m not letting white-hair over here get minced. And you all still need a way back.¡± His feet began to scramble against the ground. The door wasn¡¯t budging. Because Pels would be the best suited for that¡­ Glade thought. He kept his mouth sealed; it wouldn¡¯t be proper for a disciple like him to speak sarcastically to a navy captain. ¡°Very well,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Step aside, Pels.¡± He walked up to the door and pressed his hand against it, and a surge of Arcara poured out. It filled a few runes before flowing up to an Arcara lock. With a click, the lock snapped open. Nathariel heaved the gate to the side with a single push. ¡°Guess water-lady over there already had the door open before we arrived, eh?¡± Pels put his hands on his hips, panting, but Nathariel marched through the doorway. ¡°Alright, alright, straight to business.¡± ¡°We need a place to sleep,¡± the Admiral said. ¡°In the morning, we¡¯ll make our plan. I¡¯ll keep the first watch.¡± Glade ran to catch up. ¡°Watch from what?¡± ¡°If one God-heir made it here, then there¡¯s a chance others will too.¡± Chapter 19: Nymphs [Volume 3] Vayra awoke to the feeling of something crawling up her arm¡ªher real arm. Twigs prodded along her skin in a repetitive pattern, shifting up to her shoulder. With a shout, she leapt to her feet, shooing whatever it was away with a flail of her arm. A bee the size of a cat took flight. It leapt off her arm and buzzed away through the flower forest. ¡°Thousands of other options, and you had to pick me¡­¡± she muttered, rubbing her arm with her mechanical hand to make the feeling of the bee crawling along go away. It didn¡¯t work, and she had to let out a good shudder before the sensation finally dimmed. ¡°Insects¡­¡± ¡®You did cover yourself in pollen,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented inside Vayra¡¯s head, then added a yawn. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not doing that again.¡± Immediately, she did it again. She needed to get an idea of where she was and where she needed to go, and the only thing sturdy enough to climb was one of the pollen-covered stamens. The filament was as thick as her leg, and it didn¡¯t bend even when she reached the top. She peered over the rim of the surrounding petals and stared out across the greenhouse¡¯s internal landscape. It was morning; rays of sunlight penetrated the outer shell of the greenhouse, streaking through the misty air. She was about halfway up the slope of a deep, central valley that ran through the eastern side of the greenhouse. ¡®If I understand the process correctly, the Stream water mixture, once purified by the upper shelves, seeps into the ground down here,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It feeds these plants, and the spirit-pollen gets spread around by the bees. It soaks back into the soil and feeds the creation of an even stronger elixir.¡¯ ¡°And that¡¯s what goes over to the western side?¡± ¡®I believe so.¡¯ ¡°So we¡¯re on the wrong side, because I guarantee there¡¯s another step of purification there that¡¯ll make it even more potent and get us even more spirit energy, right?¡± ¡®Not necessarily. The western side is more specified. We¡¯re in need of raw power, so we¡¯re in the right place. We just need to find a well where it bubbles up into a concentrate, unless you want to go around eating dirt.¡¯ ¡°Considering all the other things I¡¯ve done these past few months¡­¡± ¡®No, we¡¯re not eating dirt. Veto. Goddess veto. Go find a well, before I come out there and make you.¡¯ ¡°Where would a well be?¡± ¡®Head to lower ground, as low as you can get. Then listen for the talking flowers.¡¯ Vayra slid down the stamen and brushed the pollen dust off herself. ¡°If you insist,¡± she said, with a mock-bow. ¡°Wait, talking flowers?¡± ¡®You heard me.¡¯ ¡°Don¡¯t know what you¡¯re onto, but I¡¯ll accept it. Talking flowers. Got it¡­¡± Vayra was hoping for a river at the bottom of the valley¡ªhopefully, filled with easily accessible spirit elixir just flowing. The ground just stopped sinking. There was one last rigid, terraformed ledge, then a perfectly flat bottom filled with more tree-sized flowers. She walked along the base of the valley for a few hours, and only stopped at around noon to eat. When she reached inside her haversack to retrieve a puck of hardtack, though, her fingers brushed against something warm and furry. And it was moving. She pulled her hand back immediately, fearing that it was another massive bee that had snuck into her pouch. She pulled the haversack¡¯s flap shut again, eyes wide. ¡°Phas¡­¡± Then the mewling began. Cautiously, Vayra pulled the pouch open again. She looked closely, until a sunbeam crossed over a tuft of brownish orange fur. Definitely not a bee. ¡®Oh, for the Streamfather¡¯s sake¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡®It¡¯s a kitten.¡¯ Vayra reached in and plucked it up by the scruff. It was one of Orlas¡¯ kittens, and it had a strip of salt-pork in its mouth. ¡°Hey!¡± she snapped. ¡°That¡¯s my¡ª¡± She tried to pull the strip of meat out of the little kitten¡¯s fangs, but it clung on tight. After a few seconds of wrestling, it tugged the chunk off¡­and quickly began to choke on it. ¡°No, no, no¡­¡± Vayra hissed, dropping down to her knees. She tapped the back of the kitten¡¯s neck until it spat out the hunk of meat. The little creature was barely large enough to fill the palm of her hand, but it still rolled over onto its back and meowed loudly at her. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re welcome,¡± Vayra said, picking the kitten back up by its scruff. ¡°He must have gotten in when I was loading up on rations.¡± ¡®He¡¯s still so little,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He needs his mother.¡¯ ¡°Yeah, well, we can¡¯t get back out, and we can¡¯t just leave him here.¡± Vayra held him up higher. As the kitten dangled, his head lolled to the side, and he began to purr softly, like he was snoring. ¡°Did he just¡­fall asleep?¡± ¡®Kittens will do that. Did he have a name?¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t think the midshipmen decided on names for the kittens.¡± Vayra sighed, then tucked him back into her haversack¡ªbut she made sure he was in the back pocket with her books, separated from her rations. ¡°I guess we¡¯ve got a little friend with us.¡± Yet another complication to deal with. She ate the rest of the salt-pork strip the kitten had taken out, then kept walking. Mid-afternoon, when the sun bore down on the greenhouse and the interior felt hotter than the choking lava fields of Muspellar (though, being a half-phoenix, the difference was hard to tell), she started to hear whispers. They were unintelligible, but it was definitely a voice of some kind. There was no wind nor flowing water to muffle it. She tucked her head and tried to concentrate on the direction of the voices. They were coming from the bottom of the valley and if she turned to the right slightly, she would reach them. But did she want to? What if there were more God-heirs? If Larra had made it here before them, enough to be expecting them, then what was to say there couldn¡¯t be others? ¡®If there are other God-heirs, then we¡¯ll want to know how strong they are,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Chances are, they¡¯ve gathered around a spirit well, and that¡¯s what we need, too. It¡¯s us or them.¡¯ Vayra bit her lip. ¡°All I¡¯d be able to sense is a tingle. Don¡¯t remember exactly what stage the senses develop far enough at¡­¡± At least, though, she couldn¡¯t feel a tingle. If they were God-heirs, they weren¡¯t terribly strong. ¡°I need to see them to scan their spirits.¡± ¡®Not with me in tow,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®My spiritual senses have been active, just diminished. Hence my ability to sense immediate physical dangers.¡¯ ¡°These aren¡¯t cannonballs screaming at our face, though.¡± ¡®I¡¯ll need more Arcara from you, then.¡¯ ¡°How?¡± ¡®We¡¯re already intertwined. You only have the spirit potential of a God because you¡¯re sharing my Arcara channels. You will eventually be able draw from my stores of power. But I only have faint, faint, trickles of your mana to work with.¡¯ Phason¨¦ paused. ¡®The Gods resided in the Upper Realm. Many of them have descended since Karmion¡¯s invasion began, but I was not one of them. My form, my body, is still trapped up there, and it¡¯s only my spirit and soul that have been shoved into yours.¡¯ Vayra crossed her arms. ¡°How do I give you more of my Arcara, though?¡± ¡®It¡¯ll be easier if I do¡­¡¯ A glimmer of white light blared off to Vayra¡¯s left, and Phason¨¦¡¯s physical ghost knitted itself out of strands of white starlight. ¡°...this.¡± She took a few steps back from Vayra. ¡°There are still two separate Arcara systems inside you. One, yours, which has been developing, and mine, which was giving you the kick you needed. Yours is at a state where it¡¯s stable on its own, so we can actually try this.¡± The Goddess held out her ghostly hand, and Vayra took it. ¡°Pass Arcara between the two systems,¡± Phason¨¦ instructed. ¡°You¡¯re feeding me, and with the mana, I¡¯ll sense for you.¡± Vayra fed a slow trickle of mana Arcara out into the palm of her hand, like she was fuelling a rune. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost lit up a little brighter, and a few more details filled in¡ªthe dimples of her cheeks, individual strands of her hair, and her collarbone. Vayra tried not to stare. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve felt this strong¡­¡± said Phason¨¦. She darted in front of Vayra, moving twice the speed of a normal human, then back the other direction to strike a flower. Her fist cracked through the air, and instead of flopping back like a curtain, she punched a hole in the center of the petal. ¡°Quiet!¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°If there are others, they¡¯ll hear us!¡± Phason¨¦ raced back in front of Vayra. Then she dimmed again. ¡°Sorry¡­I got ahead of myself. I¡¯ll need¡­a top-up of mana to activate my senses.¡± ¡°Being a Goddess uses that much mana, huh?¡± ¡°Yes, but your stores will eventually get bigger to compensate for me. We used to sleep in beds of¡­well, it¡¯s hard to describe, but the Upper Realms are very different, and there are different sources of mana than the Stream.¡± Vayra placed a hand on Phason¨¦¡¯s wrist again and transferred a little more mana. For a second, the Goddess stood still. Then, she pointed ahead and said, ¡°I sense a few presences. First-Lieutenant-grade Arcara, but I can¡¯t sense any cores. Just channels.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Those can¡¯t be God-heirs, right? And even if they had weak spirit potential, they¡¯d have a core by the time they reached First Lieutenant.¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± Vayra rubbed the bridge of her nose. ¡°Oh, talking flowers, then? That¡¯s why you look so smug.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see exactly what these are.¡± Vayra drew her pistol out of her belt and conjured her seer-core, ready to blast a hole in something with a beam of starlight-Arcara. They got closer, and the voices became more than just distant whispers. They were speaking in a foreign language, but with vaguely human words. Between each word, they inserted a click or a clack. The voices grew to a peak just behind a wall of especially tall wall of petals. Vayra peeled one of the curtain-sized sheets aside just enough that she could see through. A clearing lay beyond, and at the center was a small cobblestone ring. A bucket hung on a chain, reaching all the way down to the bottom of the well. A trio of humanoid women sat on the edge of the well. They were made up entirely of purple flower petals¡ªone or two of these enormous petals were enough to skin their entire form. They had eyes of pure, glowing blue Arcara, and their hair was formed in the same way. One lay across the lap of the other, chatting lazily with her, and the third hopped to her feet, dancing around the rim of the well while singing a song. Vayra let the petals fall together slowly. She turned and looked over at Phason¨¦¡¯s glowing form. ¡°That¡¯s not what I thought you meant.¡± ¡°Nymphs,¡± the Goddess whispered. ¡°They form when a plant absorbs enough mana and purifies it through its root system. Unlike the transport roots, these ones don¡¯t have anywhere to put the Arcara, so they begin to cultivate it and gain intelligence¡ªand a humanoid form.¡± Vayra bit her lip, tempted to look back into the clearing. ¡°We need the water from that well.¡± ¡°Talock used to disperse the nymphs before they could ever gain more intelligence than an average insect. But you know the rest. They¡¯ve had access to some of the best elixirs in the galaxy for decades.¡± ¡°Will they share?¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled softly. ¡°On some planets, they¡¯re called demons, and for a reason. So¡ª¡± The wall of petals burst apart. A nymph¡¯s head blasted through it, and she bared a set of glowing blue fangs. Chapter 20: Golden Elixir [Volume 3] The nymph pounced at Vayra. Ducking to the side, Vayra pulled the pistol¡¯s trigger, letting off the one shot she had loaded. A spray of flower petal debris and nectar erupted from the nymph¡¯s shoulder, but it left only a scrape. It would have blasted straight through a human. They were tough. Noted. The nymph only shrugged back for a second. It screeched, which turned into a high-pitched laugh, then dove towards Vayra with its claws outstretched. Vayra ducked to the side, but the nymph¡¯s glowing claws still whizzed past her, catching her flesh-and-blood forearm and leaving a light scrape. Phason¨¦ and Vayra stood side-by-side. Heart racing, Vayra took a step back, trying to give herself distance, until her back bumped against the wall of flower petals behind her. She raised her pistol again. She could do better than the physical weapons of a mortal. ¡°How do you destroy a nymph, Phas?¡± ¡°Scatter its components,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Hit it hard, and make sure it can¡¯t get up, then keep destroying the bits until they fade back into the ground.¡± Raw output, then. Vayra fired a quarter seer-core¡¯s worth of starlight-Arcara through the pistol. A beam of white light surged out, racing straight towards the nymph¡¯s head. If it could evaporate water, it could annihilate a flower. The nymph blocked it. Raising her hands, the nymph erected a lens of pure Arcara. A shield technique¡ªa Ward. Vayra¡¯s starlight blasted against it and scattered off into the forest, tearing up chunks of the nearby flowers. The nymph, screaming and laughing, strengthened her full body with a cloud of pale blue Arcara. Then, she sprinted towards Vayra in a blur of light. One arm wrapped around Vayra¡¯s midsection, and before Vayra could register what had happened, she was blasting back through the wall of flower petals and skidding along the muddy floor of the clearing. She landed hard on her back. All the air whooshed out of her lungs. It took all her willpower just to keep cycling Arcara. She shielded the back of her head before she collided with the well. With her second hand, the nymph conjured half-inch long claws of Arcara, then drove it down at Vayra¡¯s gut. Just when the claws began to puncture flesh, Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost flashed past. She threw the nymph to the ground, then punched straight in the center of its chest. Cracks erupted all across its form, and nectar began to spill out. Its arm fell off, and it collapsed to its knees, but the rest of it began to knit together. Even one of Phas¡¯s punches wasn¡¯t enough to destroy it? Phason¨¦¡¯s form dimmed, and the details faded. She had no extra mana. ¡°I¡¯m hardly at¡ª¡± Before she could finish, one of the other nymphs grabbed her ghost from behind, wrapping one arm around her throat and the other up under her shoulder. With no mana from Vayra, Phason¨¦ could only thrash with the strength of a human. Panting, and covered in light scrapes, Vayra tried to jump to her feet, but the third nymph grabbed both of her hands at the wrists, holding her in place. As soon as the nymph touched her real hand, it disrupted the Arcara flow. The raw strength surging through the nymphs limbs left an aura. The gap between Third Lieutenant and First was that large? Vayra let go of the pistol and allowed the seer-core to disperse. Hopefully, the nymphs would then think she was unarmed, and it¡¯d give her the edge she needed. The nymphs spoke to each other in their language of shrieks and clicks, while the one without an arm moaned and grunted. Up close, their words carried a touch of intent in them, and sparks of Arcara flew out of their mouths. A lightheadedness brimmed at the edge of Vayra¡¯s mind, but she resisted it as best as she could. The first nymph motioned at the arm Phason¨¦ had blasted off. The second nymph, who had a hair ornament of blue flowers, shrugged, as if to say, ¡®It¡¯ll grow back.¡¯ Maybe for nymphs, it would. The third nymph swayed her hips casually and laughed. A malicious grin brimmed on her lips; the lightheadedness doubled. Vayra tried pulling against the nymph¡¯s grip, but the creature was too strong¡ªnot even at the weakest point, where the thumb met the other fingers, could Vayra break through. ¡°Phas, why aren¡¯t they trying to kill us?¡± ¡°I dunno. Maybe they want to stew us.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°I don¡¯t think they want to have a tea party with us¡ªunless we¡¯re in the tea.¡± Vayra growled under her breath, trying to tune out the nymphs¡¯ screechy bickering. ¡°Alright, then get back inside me.¡± She doubted she could take on all three nymphs at once, not in her current state, but she just needed to cut herself free. ¡°You know how that sounds¡ª¡± ¡°I need the scythe.¡± Vayra figured her face was already red from effort, exertion, and the fight, but that couldn¡¯t have helped. ¡°Get your mind out of the gutter.¡± Phason¨¦ scowled, then sighed. ¡°One second.¡± Her ghostly form started to disintegrate into threads, like a blanket unravelling. The threads raced through the air and sank into Vayra¡¯s chest, absorbing in the blink of an eye. The nymph that had been holding Phason¨¦ stumbled forwards. It let out an enraged tea-kettle scream, then looked up at Vayra¡ªexactly where Phason¨¦ had gone. The nymph who¡¯d lost an arm broke out into a fit of exaggerated crying. Vayra relinquished control of her mechanical hand, where the nymph¡¯s touch didn¡¯t disrupt her Arcara flow. ¡°Phas, any time¡­¡± The nymph with the hair ornament charged. Vayra¡¯s scythe began to form, starlight bleeding out of her scarf. The second nymph holding Vayra let go, jumping away from the scythe, and Vayra dropped down to her stomach. The hair-ornament nymph tackled the nymph who¡¯d been holding Vayra. Leaping to her feet, Vayra ran to the well. She hoisted up the bucket¡ªit was full of spirit-well water¡ªand grabbed it, then hacked the chain off with the still-forming blade of her scythe. The crying nymph charged at her with its full Bracing technique. Its claws glimmered. Vayra leapt to the side, careful to keep the bucket upright¡ªand not to land on her haversack. If the kitten wasn¡¯t awake before, it would be now. One of the nymphs Moulded a dagger of pure Arcara in its hand and threw it at Vayra. It whipped through the air in a single heartbeat, and if Vayra hadn¡¯t seen the nymph winding up, the dagger wouldn¡¯t just have grazed past her shoulder. Vayra couldn¡¯t fight three First Lieutenant-grade nymphs at once, not like this. Bracing her legs, she turned and sprinted off into the forest on the other side of the clearing. ¡°We need a place to hide!¡± she hissed as she ran. Without the nymphs screaming in her ear, the lightheadedness faded. She wove between the flower-trees, and for those that she was moving too fast to dodge, she sliced through with her scythe. ¡®First, don¡¯t leave a trail of destruction, hm?¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. ¡®I¡¯m sure we can find a cave or something.¡¯ Vayra turned towards the edge of the valley. When she found the ledge of the first shaped step of earth, she adjusted her course once again and ran along the base of it. Her breaths sped up. Footsteps, clacks, and screeches sounded behind her. The nymphs were chasing her. With her Braced legs, she could run fast, but pushing the technique as hard as she did took more mana than she absorbed from the particles in the air. She was burning it fast enough that she could feel her reservoir emptying. The starsteel wires in her mechanical leg heated up, and she could see them glowing red-hot between the wooden plates. If she was a human, they¡¯d have burned her stump. She dispelled her scythe away to conserve mana. Not the time to worry about that. Ahead, along the steep wall to her left, there was an opening¡ªa cave entrance, weathered and eroded by years of inattention. But if she turned right into it, though, the nymphs would see her and follow her. She veered away from the wall and out into the forest, then pushed her Bracing technique to its limit. White flame erupted over her legs, and it began to creep up her waist and stomach in tendrils, tracing the lines of buried phoenix feathers. Almost like a cheap Mediator Form¡­ She focussed on speed, and just speed. The white fire expanded. The nymphs started to drift away behind her. The moment she lost sight of them, she dipped back to the left and shot straight into the cave. She ran into it, venturing as deep as she could before the dirt cinched together and she couldn¡¯t fit through it anymore. The only light came from her Bracing technique and scarf. She deactivated the technique and dropped down on her back. She set the bucket of elixir down beside her. Now, without the light of her technique, she noticed that it was glowing, too¡ªan autumn yellow. ¡®Veil yourself!¡¯ Phason¨¦ commanded. Vayra held her breaths still and restricted her Arcara. She waited, laying flat on the ground, until she couldn¡¯t hear the nattering nymphs anymore. Despite the length of the cave, her Third Lieutenant senses could still reach out the opening to them. She took one deep breath, then veiled herself again. After a few minutes, the noises didn¡¯t come back. ¡®Understandable,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Huh?¡± Vayra whispered, pushing herself up to a sitting position. She opened her haversack¡ªfirst, to make sure the kitten was alright (it was, and it had fallen back asleep), then to retrieve her canteen and take a swig of water. Cautiously, she cycled Arcara out to the tips of her limbs and to the few scrapes and cuts she¡¯d earned so they¡¯d heal faster. ¡®You don¡¯t get your really good spiritual senses until Commodore,¡¯ Phason¨¦ explained. ¡®The nymphs shouldn¡¯t have anything.¡¯ ¡°Right¡­¡± Vayra exhaled slowly. She pressed her head back against the wall. ¡°So¡­we¡¯re trapped in here, now. At least we¡¯ve got some elixir.¡± She pulled the bucket towards her with her foot, then peered inside it. It was a coherent mixture of spirit-water and pollen, so thick that it reminded her of quicksilver¡ªif quicksilver was yellow. Cautiously, she lifted the bucket to her mouth and took a sip. It was an iron bucket, and the edges were starting to rust. She had to be careful not to cut herself¡ªno need to use an extra vial of Namola Elixir if she didn¡¯t have to. A single sip of the well-water was enough to send lightning shooting through her veins. She blinked, then coughed half of the sip back into the bucket. The rest lit up her Arcara channels. Shards of glass flowed through her veins, but she consolidated it and pushed it to her core with the new cycling-refining technique Nathariel had taught her. She clenched her teeth, then her fists. She would have to face the nymphs again. There was only one thing to do: she had to push herself and get stronger. Chapter 21: Corespace [Volume 3] Vayra forced herself to sit still for hours, cycling in a cross-legged position. Without using any combat techniques, the ambient mana in the air was enough to power her cycling, especially the small loop that Nathariel taught her. She started with small infusions of the Golden Elixir, but the more she used, the more natural the lightning in her veins and gut felt. She took larger and larger sips. The energy surged around, filling up her channels and core. As it integrated, she was able to envision it less as a golden energy, but as the faint blue of pure Arcara. Though, since she had advanced to Third Lieutenant, she had noticed that her Arcara seemed a lot paler¡ªless pure, and more intertwined with starlight without any extra interference. She had made it through a quarter of the bucket by the time she felt a small set of teeth nipping at her shin. Her eyes whipped open. She half expected it to be a poisonous snake or some other kind of demonic, spirit-water-fuelled nightmare plant. It was the kitten. Vayra sighed and picked it up. ¡°Just you.¡± It meowed loudly at her, then nipped her thumb. Not hard enough to draw blood, though, and she barely felt it. ¡°Don¡¯t like being picked up?¡± she asked. She was about to put it down on the cave floor when Phason¨¦ said, ¡®It¡¯s hungry, Vayra. That¡¯s why it¡¯s chewing on you.¡¯ ¡°Oh.¡± Vayra put the kitten down anyways, then reached into her haversack. A kitten this little would probably have preferred milk, but she didn¡¯t have any of that to give. Instead, she tore up a salt-pork strip into bits half the size of a fingernail. As it gulped them up out the palm of her hand, she ran a finger down its back. ¡®I guess this is the one,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡®An exotic animal would have been nice to form a spiritual connection with, but it looks like you¡¯re gonna be bonding with a kitten.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m just¡ª¡± ¡®Oh, it¡¯s going to happen, and we both know it.¡¯ ¡°Alright. But look at it. It¡¯s pretty cute, right?¡± ¡®You¡¯re looking at it, so I am too.¡¯ Then Phason¨¦ grumbled something inaudible even inside Vayra¡¯s head. After a few more seconds, she added, ¡®But yes, it is pretty cute.¡¯ The kitten was so soft, and with each pet, Vayra¡¯s heartbeat slowed. She let out a truly deep breath, then leaned back against the muddy walls of the cave. A root bit into the small of her back, but she ignored it for the time-being while she ate the rest of the salt-pork strip. Sometime after that, she fell asleep. In the morning, she realized that she hadn¡¯t been cycling at all overnight¡ªnot even a basic pattern¡ªand mentally reprimanded herself for a few minutes before turning back to the bucket and drinking more of it. Over the rest of the day, she integrated the full bucket of golden elixir. Before they had departed ashore, Nathariel had told her all about the Lieutenant stages and their purposes. The entire set of stages was about developing a core, and an inner world inside it. Being the Mediator, Vayra already had a head start¡ªPhason¨¦¡¯s void already existed inside her core. But she needed to turn it into something more, or she¡¯d never advance. While she cycled, she pulled herself into the white void (which was now more a shade of light gray), and turned in a circle, hands on her hips. Phason¨¦ was in the center of the void, lying flat on her back with a bored expression on her face. She still wore her tied-up shirt and a long skirt. Nudging the Goddess with her boot, Vayra said, ¡°Hey, Glitter Princess? We¡¯ve got a bit of a job to do. Or are you just sunbathing? Void-bathing?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± Phason¨¦ sat up. ¡°In my defence, I didn¡¯t know when you¡¯d show up.¡± Vayra started by mapping out the entire area of the corespace. She walked until she couldn¡¯t anymore¡ªwhen she reached an edge of the gray void. Like the floor, she couldn¡¯t see any sort of wall, but there was an invisible force preventing her from moving. The wall curved slightly under the palm of her hand. As best she could tell, the void was spherical, with a flat floor at the bottom. Phason¨¦ stood on the opposite side, three ship-lengths away. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re working with!¡± Vayra yelled. She ran back to the center and met Phason¨¦. ¡°Third Lieutenant is laying the foundations. The ground, right?¡± ¡°That memory is a little distant, Vayra¡­you¡¯re the one who got a lecture from Nathariel.¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Vayra smiled and shook her head. She couldn¡¯t resist a soft chuckle. Of course Phason¨¦ wouldn¡¯t have been paying attention to the lecture. ¡°I can feel those...¡± ¡°I know¡ª¡± Vayra cut herself off. She didn¡¯t just know, she knew. Deeply. Intently. She had caught a whiff of intent from the Goddess. ¡°Was that¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s like to feel my thoughts,¡± Phason¨¦ said. Vayra cleared her throat, then folded her fingers together. She shuffled a few steps away from Phason¨¦. ¡°Alright, so¡­we¡¯ve got more important things. What¡¯s the inner world supposed to look like? I know I¡¯m supposed to craft it with my mind, but I can¡¯t picture anything. And if it¡¯s bad, then you¡¯ve gotta live here for the next little while, in a little¡ª¡± ¡°What makes you think of stars?¡± ¡°¡ªand it has to be attuned to a Path. Right?¡± ¡°Seriously, Vayra, what makes you think of stars?¡± Vayra shrugged. ¡°I dunno. Sitting on a rooftop, overlooking Tavelle. Bremi and I would lay there for hours, looking up at the stars. Sometimes, their light would pass behind a distant reach of the Stream, and a little patch of watery net would light up across the sky¡­¡± ¡°Rooftop, got it,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Then we¡¯ll need a tall hill in the center, cause that¡¯d be the best place to put a house, and the best place to stargaze.¡± Vayra continued, ¡°During the springtime, I loved watching the reflections of the night sky in puddles, when the snow was melting and everything was warming up.¡± ¡°Springtime, perfect. And a pond? How about a pond along the far edge?¡± The conversation continued for a few minutes, all while Vayra continued to integrate the golden elixir. The cycling pattern was becoming automatic, as were the exertions of willpower. For the afternoon, they spread dirt around the floor of the void, filling it up to the floor level. Well, it wasn¡¯t exactly dirt. Vayra had been wondering where she would get it from, and if she would have to bring handfuls of outside dirt into the void. But, thankfully, she didn¡¯t need to do any of that. The core was malleable at this stage. When she poured Arcara into the core, it was consumed and forged directly by her willpower into her core structure. Truly, it didn¡¯t look like dirt or hills or ponds, but that was the best way to imagine it, aiding the development of the core¡¯s internal structure. Vayra focussed on the intent of her magic. She was to turn starlight into a weapon capable of crushing gods¡ªof becoming the Godscourge. Or at least, that was how it was supposed to go. She built a tall mound of dirt in the center of the core (the perfect spot for stargazing) and a pond off to the edge, where eventually, a garden would grow, by reflections of stars. Then, with a final breath, she coloured the sky of the little sphere-shaped void black. It had to be nighttime to see the stars. ¡°Is that¡­it?¡± she asked. She pulled herself out of the core so she could envision it. From the outside, the black streaks had grown, intertwined with bolts of white and blue energy¡ªa high-contrast white snowglobe. When she turned the sky to night, she had finished integrating the last sip of elixir from the bucket. She expected something to happen. A shock of sorts, or maybe a cramp, signalling the start of an advancement. But there was nothing. When she called all her Arcara back to her core, it barely fit in, but the core wasn¡¯t overflowing yet. ¡®You¡¯re at the peak of Third Lieutenant,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®There wasn¡¯t enough to push us over the top.¡¯ Vayra tried placing stars in the sky of the globe, pulling the white streaks from the outside in, but she couldn¡¯t. ¡®That¡¯s the final touch of the environment, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯ll have to wait until the actual advancement.¡¯ Vayra dropped her arms, and a pit formed in her stomach. She was hoping to face the nymphs when she was Second Lieutenant, not¡­the same. She rubbed her gut where the nymph¡¯s finger-blades had almost impaled her. The scratches had all healed, but that didn¡¯t mean she was in any condition to fight three First Lieutenants. ¡®Don¡¯t discount the power of reaching the peak of a stage. You have more Arcara, and your attacks will have a little more weight behind them.¡¯ Vayra drove her mind entirely out of her body once again and stood up. She wanted to be encouraged, but she didn¡¯t know how. ¡°I¡¯ll need a new technique.¡± ¡®Of what sort?¡¯ ¡°Read my mind.¡± ¡®A Bracing technique¡­for your entire body.¡¯ ¡°And something specialized to me.¡± Vayra said. ¡°My body is supposed to be fast and agile, and strength can come second to that.¡± Better to focus on her strengths and build them up, rather than excel in nothing. It might close the gap between her and the nymphs a little, though, so that had to count for something. ¡®I was never able to develop one for myself,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The starlight Bracing techniques left too much char in my channels if I used them too much or for too long, and a full-body technique was off the table. But with your cleansing abilities¡­¡¯ ¡°I might be able to make it work.¡± Vayra stood up and gathered her equipment. She¡¯d need the bucket again, unless there was another lying in the woods, then picked up the kitten. She was about to tuck it into her haversack, but if she was about to go experimenting with a new technique, that wouldn¡¯t exactly be safe. ¡®Bring it into the core with you.¡¯ Phason¨¦ chuckled softly. ¡®I guess we can start calling it a corespace now.¡¯ ¡°Can I do that? Bring another being into the void?¡± ¡®Now that the core has stabilized and formed up as much as it has? Yes, we can.¡¯ Vayra hugged the kitten close to her chest, and it snuggled up against her. Then she pulled herself into the void¡ªno, corespace¡ªfor what felt like the fiftieth time that day. She arrived at the center, on the very top mound of grassless mud, and set the kitten down. ¡°You¡¯ll be safe here, alright?¡± Almost as soon as she had arrived, she was pulling herself out of the void again. With everything settled, and her passenger safely stowed, Vayra marched towards the cave entrance. She was ready to make a new technique. Chapter 22: Roots [Volume 3] After a day and a half of wandering, Glade, Pels, Nathariel, and Galiris reached a well. They had descended from the foyer and climbed down the rigid slopes of an orchard-covered valley. The ground here was still divided up into discrete ledges, carved out by sapient hands, but the thousands of little fruit-bearing trees scattered across it made it look more smooth than it was. They had walked through the orchard, aiming for the nearest, large tree¡ªif there was a source of spiritual energy they could harvest, it was likely there. Every step, their boots squished through a half-foot high layer of fallen, rotting fruit. If Glade wasn¡¯t cycling, he would have held his breath for as long as he could to keep the slightly sweet, slightly alcoholic, and mostly rotting smell out of his nostrils. The ground began to slope upwards with smooth hills¡ªthe roots of one of the massive central fruit trees. After a few more hours, the roots burst out of the ground, forming a massive hill of intertwined roots and wood. The well itself was tucked into the exposed roots. It was a simple tube of cobblestone plunging deep into the greenhouse soil, and Glade was surprised it hadn¡¯t been crushed by the roots long ago. But instead of crushing it, they wrapped around it, like they were a dead Order Elder clutching a sword to their chest for burial. Nathariel ran over to the edge and peered down into it. Glade ran up beside him and asked, ¡°What is it?¡± Spirit water glowed blue at the bottom of the well, but there was so much fallen fruit in it that the light could only seep out in cracks. ¡°A Life Elixir,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Life?¡± ¡°The life aspects of the decaying fruit, with nowhere to go, are seeping down into the well, replacing some of the spirit energy with¡­different natures. I suspect that this is only half spirit energy, by now.¡± ¡°Different natures?¡± Glade pushed himself back from the edge of the well. ¡°What does it do? What is the other half?¡± ¡°Life energy, for enhancing the body,¡± Nathariel explained. ¡°It will expand upon the concepts that you just ingrained into your muscles, and push them a touch further. Normal God-heirs would do this through special meats and wines over the course of their life, but you have an opportunity to use it now and give your body the best refinement you can get.¡± ¡°While also getting some of that fancy spirit energy stuff, right?¡± Pels asked. ¡°It¡¯s still an elixir, as I take it.¡± ¡°Aye, you¡¯ll still be getting some almost-purified Arcara for your body,¡± Nathariel answered. ¡°Not as powerful as the pure elixirs on the other side of the dome, but it has a dual purpose¡ª¡± Before he could finish, the roots around the well erupted. Seven columns of debris shot up into the air, and in each, there was a human-shaped silhouette. One emerged right beside Galiris, who was hanging back. Before the debris had settled, a flash of turquoise Arcara sizzled through the air. A small spurt of blood shot out from the elf¡¯s midsection, then she collapsed. The top half of her body slid forwards and her legs crumpled. Glade ripped his sword out of his sheath and ran back to Nathariel, who had drawn his spear. They sandwiched Captain Pels between them. ¡°This, Captain,¡± Nathariel said, ¡°is why we figured you should stay back¡­¡± ¡°Not regretting it.¡± Pels cocked his pistol and pointed it at one of the seven attackers. When the debris fell, seven human-like creatures walked towards them. They were all shaped vaguely like women, but their skin was formed entirely out of bark and wound-together white roots. Their hair was turquoise moss and their eyes were glowing Arcara. With a woody, nasal screech, they all opened their mouths, revealing Arcara fangs, too. A few pressed their hands together, Moulding Arcara into claws. ¡°Fun,¡± Nathariel muttered, then pointed his spear at one of them. The cracks in her wooden flesh glowed orange, and she shrieked. A second later, she exploded, scattering chunks of flaming wood all around the well. ¡°Or, alternatively, we just burn ourselves to death,¡± Pels grumbled. ¡°Quit your whining,¡± Nathariel snapped back. ¡°The roots are wet; they won¡¯t catch, not while I control the flame.¡± ¡°What are they?¡± Glade asked, flourishing his sword. ¡°Wood nymphs. They rarely ever get so advanced¡ªthese are all around Second or Third Lieutenant grade, but they only have channels, not a core. They get more human as they advance, see, and their Arcara system develops much slower¡­but it will be developed enough that I can destroy them. Chances are, they¡¯ve never had to defend against spiritual fire attacks.¡± Nathariel whirled his spear, then pointed it out at the next closest nymph. ¡°They will try to kill us without a second thought.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The six remaining nymphs charged. Nathariel popped one more before they got too close¡ªthe explosion of flaming wood had a high chance of hurting Glade or Pels. Then, he swept his spear around to push back three more nymphs. The other two sprinted at Glade. He ran his hand down the blade, conjuring a hair-thin stand of Arcara along the cutting edge. It rang out with a sshing, and when he swept it through the air, it made a crystalline chattering sound. He used broad strikes to push the two nymphs back. He hacked left to right, then sliced right to left. The nymphs dodged away from his blade the first few times, no matter how far he swung. Each swipe flew a little further than he intended, the follow-through too far and the direction harder to control. It was stronger than he knew. He had practiced using his enhanced body over the past few days, but the sudden improvement in strength, as if his muscles were working twice as well, wasn¡¯t folding into his previous training. When he slashed to the right, both nymphs charged him¡ªhe had left an opening that wouldn¡¯t have existed before his advancement. Pels shot one, sending it tumbling back onto the root mound, but the other went for a tackle. Glade hit the ground hard, falling on his back, but it didn¡¯t feel as hard as it usually would have, and it barely forced any air out of his lungs. He skidded along the ground, borne by the strength of the nymph¡¯s attack, until he tumbled into a crevice between two roots. He landed in a shallow root cave, the nymph right on top of him. She took a bite out of the flesh around his ribcage, and he shouted. With as much strength as he could muster out of his Dawnspear body, he struck her in the side of the head with the pommel of his sword. She tumbled off to the side, but not as violently as he had expected. She was a Lieutenant of some sort, after all. Glade jumped to his feet and swiped at the nymph. His sword caught her across the chest. It slashed straight through the wood, leaving a shallow cut. Sap leaked out, sealing the wound and dripping like blood. Glade pressed his hand down on the chunk she had taken out of his side. It was bleeding enough to soak the palm of his hand, but he¡¯d live¡ªas long as that was the worst it got. He held his sword up in a fighting stance, then gave it a quick flourish to clear his mind. The nymph charged across the peat-covered floor of the cavern, claws on the tips of her fingers flashing. He stepped to the side, expecting to arrive just to the side and slash down just in time. He crossed twice the distance with a single push. There was no point in swinging; the nymph was already out of range. The nymph spun and charged again. ¡°Alright, Glade¡­¡± he told himself, whispering softly. ¡°Don¡¯t push it as hard. She¡¯s coming again. Just dodge.¡± Yelling something in a completely different language, the nymph sprinted at him again. Glade put less force into his sidestep and saved it for his swing¡ªboth for cutting as fast as he could, and for stopping the sword exactly where he wanted to. He caught the nymph across the back as she sprinted past him, leaving another light slash. Her claws were outstretched, however, and they sliced across his gut. Even though the claws ripped his coat and skin, the surrounding force of the blow flung him away and into one of the wooden cavern¡¯s walls. That was enough to knock the breath out of his lungs. Taking stock of his wounds, he pushed himself up to his feet. Another glancing, shallow blow. The nymph was already charging, but he took a low guard, presenting his shoulders as an easy target. He pushed more Arcara along the blade¡ªit¡¯d need to be a clean cut, and he¡¯d need the technique at its most powerful. He focussed on the idea of sharpness, and tried to form a loop of power instead of just a single filament of strength. In a second, the nymph had arrived. She aimed at his shoulders, like he expected. He swung upwards, hacking up through her body with a single, clean strike. Before the two halves fell apart, he delivered another strike to her waist, cleaving her in half in the other direction for good measure. The chunks of the nymph¡¯s body fell into a heap of wood and sap, and Glade fell to his hands and knees. A moment later, Nathariel peered over the edge of the cavern. ¡°You¡¯re alright down there? I heard you use a contraction while you were talking to yourself! Must¡¯ve been pretty bad.¡± Glade gulped. Nathariel had probably sensed everything. ¡°Apologies, sir, I¡ª¡± He squinted. ¡°I did not use a contraction; that would be awfully informal and unbecoming of an Order of Balance disciple.¡± ¡°Aye, you did, and I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡± He flipped his spear over in his hand, then held the blunt end down to Glade. It was just long enough. ¡°You did well, though.¡± With a jump, Glade sprang back to the surface. He clutched Nathariel¡¯s hand and let the Admiral pull him the rest of the way up. Bits of the other nymphs were scattered all around the well, and it looked like a few of them had tried to feed on the remains of Galiris. But every one of them was dead¡ªcharred or blasted apart by sheer force. Pels had used a second of his pistols, and now, he bent down, reloading them both. Glade exhaled and walked over to Galiris¡¯ body, then nudged her body. No way she lived through that. But it wasn¡¯t the first time one of his comrades had died. With a grimace, he said, ¡°We should clean up. Bury her. Then I will get started processing the elixir.¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re thinking as you should be,¡± Nathariel said, offering a congratulatory pat on the back. ¡°We¡¯ll make a swordsman out of you yet.¡± Chapter 23: Mercenaries [Volume 3] On the third day, Myrrir was worried he¡¯d never find any work. No work meant no repairs for the Hyovao. They¡¯d be trapped on this backwater hellhole until he could muscle his way around and steal what he needed. By then, it might be too late. What if the Mediator made it to Captain or Commodore? Catching her would be off the table. He wouldn¡¯t even make it in time to register for the Skyclash tournament. ¡°Have you ever worked a storefront before?¡± the man asked, leaning forwards on the counter. He was a human with ochre skin, just like Tye (except younger), and he wore nothing but trousers and a cumberbund. His head was completely shaven. ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± Myrrir answered plainly. ¡°Well, scram,¡± the man said. ¡°I¡¯ve got others lining up for the same position, and they do have experience.¡± Myrrir pressed his hands tighter against the countertop. It was made of a pale wood, like everything else on this planet was, and he had to hold himself back from putting a dent in it. He looked up and around at the hardware within the store: saws, chisels, mallets, and more, all lit by a swinging paper lantern. It was dingy, dusty, and cold, that¡¯s what it was. He turned away, flicking his waist cape out behind him as he marched away. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to work here, anyways.¡± Tye stood out in the middle of the gravel street, leaning against a wooden post. ¡°We¡¯ll find¡ª¡± Myrrir scoffed, cutting Tye off. ¡°I¡¯m really starting to doubt that.¡± They¡¯d tried everything, even selling his own clothes. Turns out, no one wanted to buy a charred and ripped robe or a dented and half-cut brass cuirass for anything more than pocket change, and pocket change wouldn¡¯t fix their ship. ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished,¡± Tye said. ¡°There is a man who wants to speak with you.¡± ¡°A man?¡± ¡°A bluecoat. He doesn¡¯t know who we are, and he hasn¡¯t recognized you.¡± ¡°He was watching me?¡± ¡°Apparently, he has been watching since we arrived.¡± Tye led them along the edge of the port city¡¯s main street. The village was called Garommo, and it reeked. There was no wind, and the air fermented in the streets. Today was only slightly better; it was overcast and a mist of rain fell, pattering off the black shingles of the buildings. Most were two or three storeys, with offset eaves and crumbling awnings. New wood was layered onto old. New offshoots had been built into the crevices between old buildings or on top of them. Wagons and carts trundled down the city¡¯s main street, splashing mud onto the passersby, and their horses whinnied. Every single one of them seemed to trot in the opposite direction of Myrrir and Tye. Eventually, Tye turned left and marched into the first floor of a stone building¡ªprobably the only stone building in the village. A discoloured Elderworld flag hung above the entrance. It was the main colonial office. Myrrir sighed, then stepped inside after Tye. They were both dripping wet, but it didn¡¯t matter. The hardwood floors were stained, and there weren¡¯t enough candles lit to see anything properly, anyway. A bluecoat officer with a large feather-plume in his tricorn met them inside, then motioned up the stairs. Myrrir tried to read his face, but he wore the standard mask. Completely unreadable. The bluecoat led them up a set of stairs and past a row of bureaucratic offices. At the end of the hallway, they arrived at a room overlooking the main street. It was the only room with proper windows¡ªnot just bars¡ªand enough light seeped in to illuminate the corners. ¡°Commander Neule awaits you,¡± the bluecoat said, standing at the edge of the doorway and bowing. Myrrir walked proudly through the doorway, holding his head as high as he could, considering the circumstances. His crystal Stellacovan hair hadn¡¯t even been wet in the first place, but the rest of his clothes felt like they were dragging him down. Tye led the way into the room. ¡°Commander,¡± he said. ¡°I have come, and I have my mercenary friend with me.¡± ¡°Yes, mercenary,¡± Myrrir said, picking up on the ploy. ¡°I hear you have work for us.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Commander Neule stood behind a desk, initially facing away from them. He wore a brown military coat with gold trim, a powdered wig, and a bicorne hat. He wasn¡¯t a bluecoat; the Commanders never were. ¡°Welcome.¡± Slowly, he turned around. ¡°Your friend tells me a great deal about you, and with that sword of yours¡­¡± The Commander¡¯s eyes drifted to Myrrir¡¯s blade. ¡°...I figure you¡¯ll be a wonderful asset.¡± Bluecoats¡ªor the Elderworld military dynasties¡ªnever worked with local forces. Myrrir narrowed his eyes and scanned the man¡¯s spirit. He should have been as mortal as they came; Myrrir wouldn¡¯t feel a thing. And indeed, Myrrir felt nothing. The Commander was a mortal. ¡°What is the job you have for us, again?¡± Tye asked, as if prompting the conversation along. Commander Neule motioned with his hand, beckoning them towards the windows¡ªand the balcony. He pushed the door open and stepped outside, and Myrrir and Tye followed. There was an overhang above their heads, stopping the rain from pattering down onto them. Myrrir walked all the way to the carved stone railing and looked down onto the street. The local civilians still walked past, though everyone averted their gazes when Myrrir looked directly at them. Anyone who had a place to be ran past the front of the colonial office faster than normal. Less time in the presence of a bluecoat was probably safer for everyone. When a wagon splashed past quickly, splattering one of the bluecoats standing guard, they marched over to the front of the wagon and pulled the coachman off his seat, then¡­as best as Myrrir could tell with his diminished senses, exacted a fine from the begging man before pushing him down to the mud. Well, if that wasn¡¯t lovely. But the rain didn¡¯t help anyone¡¯s temper, and Myrrir didn¡¯t intervene. ¡°I need someone who can help us quell the rebellion in the east,¡± Neule said. ¡°Seeing as you have a Jai, I figure you at least know the Moro-Ka.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a Moro-Ka rebellion,¡± said Tye, explaining for Myrrir¡¯s sake. ¡°Or, at least, one of them is leading it. Seems a few of them have banded together.¡± ¡°They used to rule this world, see?¡± Neule continued. He waved his hand out to the east, where the hills beyond the city sloped up and blocked the horizon. The tips of mountains peered over them. ¡°They were the warrior-lords of these lands, and not many of them are pleased with their new standing. It¡¯s nothing but jealousy and rage, and they¡¯ve been terrorizing our peaceful wagon trains out east. My bluecoats are good, but against the Moro-Ka, we need someone used to fighting them. Like I told your friend, we¡¯re hoping your presence scares them off.¡± Myrrir scoffed. Terrorizing wagon convoys, huh? He said, ¡°You don¡¯t have to convince me I¡¯m doing it in kindness. What¡¯s the pay?¡± ¡°Six-hundred Elderworld Quivres. Three hundred before¡ªenough to fix your ship¡ªand three-hundred after you help my boys clean up the rebellion.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Very good!¡± Commander Neule pressed a hand to his chest and dipped his head. ¡°Between you and me, I do sincerely hope you get a chance to annihilate a Moro-Ka or two. It¡¯ll make our eventual forest campaigns much easier.¡± He turned around and walked back inside. ¡°Your friend tells me you are quite skilled with a sword.¡± ¡°I will do exactly what is needed of me.¡± ¡°As expected.¡± When he reached the desk, he opened a small wooden chest that waited atop it. Stacks upon stacks of golden coins rested inside. ¡°Your first payment.¡± Tye dipped his head pleasantly. ¡°You are most generous, Commander.¡± He picked up the chest for Myrrir. ¡°I will bring this back to the ship and get the repairs started, and I will be back by the end of the day.¡± ¡°Oh, yes, about that¡­Tye, is it?¡± ¡°Correct, Commander.¡± ¡°Please, upon your return, meet us at the field camp just east of the city. Myrrir and I will travel there immediately, if it pleases the mercenary.¡± Myrrir smiled. Anything to get out of the city. ¡°Of course.¡± As the sun set, the local army¡ªsomething around three thousand bluecoats, give or take¡ªbegan to practice cannon drills. They fired a row of field cannons off into the woods. Apparently, it was for gunnery practice, but also to scare off anyone who was thinking of staging an attack on the encampment. Myrrir walked with Commander Neule along the back of the row of cannons. The Commander was inspecting the gunners¡¯ reloading speed while rambling to Myrrir about the Moro-Ka. ¡°...something about honour gets them excited. They¡¯re an odd people, with seemingly no ambitions, except to sit around and be as lazy as possible¡ªalmost like that useless Velaydian king. You hear, this isn¡¯t a slight against Karmion, no, I¡¯d not want anything to be misconstrued, however, if I had my way, we¡¯d have crushed that pathetic star-nation with hordes of God-heirs by now.¡± Myrrir remembered why he had been tuning out the Commander. As they walked, Myrrir held his hand over his powder flask, expending touches of mana to practice moving it inside the flask. He formed it into little shapes just to assure himself that he still had what it took to use his techniques. Gunpowder Bracing: the Blackvein. His Reach attacks, where he mixed Arcara with gunpowder to lash out over long distances: the Powderlance. His Ward technique: the Gray Serpent¡¯s Wall. Lastly, his Moulding technique: Parley. Parley? Because anything Moulding something out of gunpowder-Arcara would need to buy plenty of time to do it. When Myrrir and Commander Neule reached the end of the row of cannons, a wagon train awaited them. ¡°You will begin late at night,¡± said Neule. ¡°The hope is that the Moro-Ka have gone home, or at the very least, given up on the roads.¡± Tye waited out in front of the wagons, his arms empty. He¡¯d returned from the Hyovao, having given the crew the gold and instructions on how to begin the repairs. ¡°Ready, Myrrir? Nothing fancy, just sitting on a wagon and scaring off some warriors.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m ready,¡± Myrrir said, running his hand down the pommel of his sword. He was still a Captain, and he¡¯d show them what that meant. Chapter 24: Shroud [Volume 3] When Vayra returned to the spirit well, she found the nymphs standing guard around it. Each one faced a different direction, looking off into a different slice of the flower forest. They were probably waiting for her¡ªexpecting her, even¡ªbut she had kept her spirit veiled as she approached. She¡¯d fight them on her own terms. She had everything she needed. The ambient mana in the air had refuelled her, and she thought she understood her full-body Bracing technique. But she stopped herself from crashing into the clearing immediately. Caution would help, but no matter what, she was still outgunned. What would she do, then? She stepped away from the edge of the clearing, letting the flower petal that she¡¯d pulled down earlier fall back into place. ¡®Vayra, what¡¯s wrong?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked, still inside Vayra¡¯s head. They had decided earlier that the scythe in Vayra¡¯s hands would be more effective. They could hit harder for longer, they could throw it, and Vayra wouldn¡¯t need to split any of her mana between them. ¡°There are three First Lieutenants,¡± she whispered, keeping her breaths short and contained. ¡°They add up to more, surely, but even if they don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡®There could be a hundred of them, but you¡¯re still the Mediator.¡¯ ¡°How does that help? My Mediator Form isn¡¯t coming back, and we don¡¯t exactly have the best track record of punching up. Our victories were because we had help from others. Hammontor, helping or not, caused Myrrir problems. Nathariel? Saved me. Larra? Well, I just went running away¡­¡± ¡®Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡®You¡¯ve been very weak for a very long time.¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s not very encouraging.¡¯ ¡®But it is something to think about. From ever since you were a child, the other Discarded could hit harder or climb faster. The Helpers? Don¡¯t even think about fighting one of them, ¡®cause they¡¯ve actually eaten a regular meal, and they¡¯re big and tall.¡¯ ¡°I hoped magic would fix that.¡± ¡®But you¡¯re not the little girl I first met in Tavelle,¡¯ Phason¨¦ continued. ¡®You¡¯ve grown stronger than you ever should have by now, and the only reason you can¡¯t see that is because you¡¯re surrounded by people who are more powerful than you. But for one moment, just think. Look back at how far you¡¯ve come.¡¯ ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡®Stop it. You have a job to do, and you can do it. You¡¯re stronger than you know.¡¯ Vayra pulled in one last breath through clenched teeth, then looked over her shoulder. There was no going back now. She flicked her hand down. ¡°Scythe?¡± She tried to put on a brave face. ¡°We have some plants to chop up.¡± Vayra tried to turn a flip in her mind. I advance. I get stronger. I have to. It was probably what every God-heir told themselves, and every Mediator before her. ¡®Correct,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You win because you make yourself win. We don¡¯t know your limits yet, but I bet they¡¯re higher than this.¡¯ The scythe started to form. As tendrils of starlight poured out of her scarf and whirled around her hand, she ran through the wall of petals around the spirit well, pushing the plants aside. The three nymphs turned to face her immediately, snarling and screeching. ¡°Yeah, time for round two.¡± Vayra took a two-handed grip on the fully-formed scythe, and transitioned into a fighting stance. She slid her foot back in an arc, recalling her combat training. When the first nymph reached her, body encased in a glowing blue aura, Vayra twirled the scythe. She the nymph under the chin with the haft. Her vision blurred, and everything outside moved fast. Inside her mind, everything moved slowly. The other two nymphs closed in from the sides, moving to flank her. It was time to use the Astral Shroud. She started Bracing her hands¡ªboth arms¡ªand let the power seep up her arms like a burning shawl was wrapping around her. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. This was the full-body Bracing technique she had developed. Like she was smashing a dam in a river, she opened up her core and let mana spill out. Arcara plowed through her channels, pushed by the streams of mana, and the Shroud encompassed her entire body. Her veins lit up white, and an aura of white fire burst out around her. She took a single step, and it carried her thrice as far. She dove between two of the nymphs, then slashed back with her scythe, cleaving one of their legs off. The nymphs whirled around and attacked, but they all approached from the same direction, now. Vayra dodged side to side, leaning away from shining claws and snarling teeth. Nothing even came close to her aura of white flame unless she wanted to¡ªunless she had an opening, and could strike one of the dryads with her scythe. She drove her scythe blade through one nymph¡¯s stomach, which wasn¡¯t enough to kill it¡ªfar from it¡ªand she bashed another in the nose with the haft. But she had to keep moving, and she had to keep moving fast. Every time she took a step, her feet planted assuredly, as if her balance had just improved, and she could switch directions twice as fast as before. With each step, she flung herself twice as far. It felt like gliding, as if the universe itself was allowing her to move fast without having to exert any more strength to do it. Sometimes she stepped too far, further than she intended, or spun faster and twirled too far¡ªand that was when the nymphs managed to land glancing strikes. A few blunt impacts rattled her frame, and she earned a few more raking claw-marks, but nothing deadly or debilitating. Not until she tried to slice a nymph in half. Speed, this sort of speed, wasn¡¯t strength. The blade caught halfway through, losing momentum as it tried to melt through the nymph¡¯s spine the hard way. It wasn¡¯t like her base-level Bracing that enhanced everything. The nymph shriek-laughed, then ripped herself off the scythe blade and moved closer. She wrapped her arms around Vayra¡¯s shoulders and tackled her to the ground, bleeding sappy nectar all over Vayra. The nymph leaned closer, trying to bite chunks of Vayra¡¯s face off, but Vayra whipped her head side-to-side and squirmed. The nymph never had anything to latch onto¡ªuntil the others approached. One of the nymphs¡ªthe one missing a leg¡ªMoulded knives of Arcara again. She licked her lips, then knelt down, and if about to try to pin Vayra to the ground with them. Vayra whipped her arm side to side, using the Astral Shroud¡¯s speed to dodge the knives. The other nymph, the one with the hair ornament, jumped on Vayra¡¯s legs. A single one of them was heavier than her, but two combined knocked the wind out of her. She thought her flesh-and-blood knee popped. It wasn¡¯t dislocated yet, but that didn¡¯t make it hurt any less. ¡®We¡¯re halfway through your mana,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Make a decision, Vayra. You can¡¯t just sit there and take it.¡¯ Vayra dispelled the scythe and switched to Starlight Palms. She blasted a short ranged one at the nymph right on top of her, then, with a surge of Arcara through her mechanical leg, she flung the hair-ornament-nymph off. She leapt to her feet and ripped her pistol out of her belt. She hadn¡¯t loaded it, but her magic was stronger than a pistolshot. With a concentration of willpower, she blasted a beam of starlight-Arcara out of it. It struck the nymph in the chest and burned a smoking crater into her chest. The nymph skidded back along the floor of the clearing. The nymph who had tackled Vayra, with the nectar-bleeding gash through her gut, pounced again. Vayra ducked to the side and laid the pistol beside her head, then blasted a second beam out. It blew off the back of the nymph¡¯s skull. The third nymph grabbed the pistol by the barrel and ripped it out of Vayra¡¯s hands, and the others¡ªbattered, but not yet defeated¡ªdescended like vultures. Vayra dodged and ducked, sidestepped and backed away. There was never an opportunity to lash out. A claw hit her from the left, then the legless dryad, who was now crawling, bit her calf. At this rate, they¡¯d wear her down with a thousand cuts. What are stars? Hm? It wasn¡¯t a voice in her mind. It was a thought, a feeling, that was being transmitted to her. Phason¨¦. What are stars, Vayra? Distant suns with distant worlds. Compared to moonlight, they were useless. Compared to the closest sun? Not even a chance. But can you imagine a night sky without them? Not a chance. You are necessary. Stars are necessary. The Godscourge is necessary. A little pinprick of light will bring down titans. Vayra¡¯s core flared, accepting a faint, distant idea of what its Path might be. Her flaming white aura spread, and a faint outline of Phason¨¦ crept over both of her wrists and cheeks. The inside of her hair shone pure white. She slipped between the nymphs faster than she had ever moved before. Her aura streaked off her, trailing white sparks through the air. She spun around the back of a nymph and blasted the back of its neck with a pulse of starlight, then drove two more into its midsection, and one last one between its shoulder blades. The Starlight Palms all struck so fast that it seemed like a single flash, and a boom like a cannon erupted through the forest. In a single flash of light, the nymph disintegrated. Vayra danced around the next nymph. It used its own Bracing technique to match hers, and for a moment, it sped up. But she had a body built for this, and she was faster. It took three hits to throw it off balance, then five more to disperse it. Soaked in nectar and flower chunks, Vayra marched towards the last nymph, the crawling nymph. It gnashed its teeth and scrambled towards her anyway, but she jumped over it and drove three blasts of starlight into its back. It popped apart at her feet. Dropping her arms, she deactivated the Astral Shroud and fell to her knees. She was down to an eighth of her mana supply, and she¡¯d barely noticed the dehydration setting in. The spirit well was looking awfully tantalizing, and now, nothing stood in her way. She walked back to the edge of the clearing and grabbed her bucket, then lugged it back to the well and fastened it to the chain. Her limbs were starting to cramp and her eyelids felt heavier than normal, but there was no time to waste. She dipped the bucket down to the bottom of the well. She had an advancement to complete. Chapter 25: Loading the Corespace [Volume 3] After a few minutes of rest¡ªnothing but well-water cycling¡ªVayra¡¯s core involuntarily clenched and sent pangs of spiritual power racing through her body. Tendrils of yearning stretched out through her limbs and out to the very tips of her fingers, and that was when she knew it was time to advance. The process wasn¡¯t as long as she expected, not compared to most of the other advancements, but that didn¡¯t make it any less rigorous. She sat cross-legged in front of the well, hands folded together, but her core had done most of the work. ¡°It¡¯s about cementing the alterations you have made to the core,¡± she said, recounting the lecture Nathariel had given. ¡°Compact it like clay, then fire it.¡± Phason¨¦ droned, ¡®This one didn¡¯t take too long¡­as best as I recall¡­¡¯ Vayra pulled all the Arcara she had refined into the core, then surrounded it with a formation of mana. Her breathing picked up, and her willpower stretched to its limit. She constricted the sphere of mana until the orb of her core began to shrink¡ªbut only a little. The outer walls, previously glowing light gray from the outside, flickered between a stunning white and black, until Vayra guided the light how she wanted. Painting streaks of white, she scattered stars around the orb, turning the cohesive light back into a canvas. The majority of it was white, pinpricks and pointillism forming miniature nebulae across the orb, but a few little black wisps seeped through. Then, guiding the mana with her mind and breaths, she pushed it through in a single wave. It was like roasting clay in a kiln. The core strengthened, no longer malleable, but neither was it fragile. As soon as the core was finished, she collapsed onto her back and splayed her arms out. The effort and concentration of the advancement, combined with the previous fighting, was enough to drop her unconscious. Vayra sat up, stretching her arms and yawning. It had only been a few hours, because the sun was only just starting to dip down¡ªlate afternoon. Or, it could have been an entire day and a bit. With how rested and¡­new she felt, that was entirely possible. As far as she could tell, there were no physical changes, but her channels felt just a little wider and open, and the air was just a touch more fragrant. ¡°Only a few hours, thankfully,¡± Phason¨¦ said. The Goddess had dipped out of Vayra¡¯s body by now, and her wireframe projection was sitting near the edge of the clearing, weaving baskets out of strips of the enormous flower petals. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°We¡¯ll want to store as much elixir as we can,¡± Phason¨¦ said. She tilted her head back, where five purple, woven flower-petal baskets waited. They were each about as big as a barrel, and they each had two layers of weave to give them a little more structure. Vayra tried walking across the clearing over to them, but each step, more and more peat and moss clung to her feet. Most of the nectar from the nymphs had dried on her, making a sticky coating, and she was certain her entire backside was covered in dirt. She¡¯d need to find a good river or something to clean off in. When she finally reached Phason¨¦, she picked up one of the barrels. It was woven so tight that it wouldn¡¯t leak when filled with Golden Elixir. ¡°I figure Larra is still looking for us, and has to be getting pretty close,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It¡¯s a big forest, but we¡¯ve been here a while, and she¡¯ll start narrowing the hunt down. Especially with that wolf of hers. We have a few days at best.¡± ¡°These barrels will be enough?¡± ¡°If we can make seven of them, we¡¯ll be able to carry enough to get us to the peak of First Lieutenant.¡± ¡°Carry?¡± ¡°In your corespace. Seven will be reaching our maximum, but it¡¯s better than nothing.¡± Vayra sat down in front of Phason¨¦. ¡°Alright, then¡­how can I help? We¡¯ll need to finish the barrel you¡¯re working on, plus one more.¡± ¡°First, get yourself cleaned up.¡± ¡°Cleaned up?¡± ¡°Wash off the nectar and such with well water. There¡¯s plenty of it¡ªno need to worry about wasting any.¡± Ten minutes later, Vayra returned, much cleaner than she was before. Everything still felt a little sticky, but it was better than nothing. She sat down next to Phason¨¦. ¡°So¡­I, uh, I haven¡¯t tried weaving anything. I mean, I¡¯ve never really had time to try any of that stuff, like sewing or knitting, either.¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled. ¡°I didn¡¯t figure you were much of a craftsperson. How about you tear the flower petals into long, thin strips for me.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. While Vayra worked on her mildly destructive task, she let the kitten out of the corespace so it could get a little more practice walking with its own two legs. She fed it and petted it, but eventually, it would need something to drink, and her canteen was almost empty. Elixir it was, then. She poured out just a droplet onto the ground in front of the kitten, and it lapped up the droplet. Within seconds, the kitten¡¯s eyes flared bright blue. Its ears lit up¡ªlight was pouring out of its skull¡ªand it started to sneeze. Vayra picked it up and started to pet it until it stopped sneezing and light stopped pouring out of its skull. ¡°Any more than that, and you¡¯ll fry the poor thing,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Sorry,¡± Vayra whispered to the kitten. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Maybe.¡± She looked up at Phason¨¦. ¡°Does it have any spirit potential?¡± ¡°Normally, I¡¯d say ¡®give me some mana and I¡¯ll check¡¯, but that won¡¯t be necessary.¡± Phason¨¦ didn¡¯t even look up from her task. She had finished the sixth barrel and moved onto the seventh. ¡°Animals work more like plants than humans, in that regard. Any of them can eventually have spirit potential. They don¡¯t rely on knowledge and purpose for their magic. They have no core, and really, they¡¯ll never form a proper soul. They just accumulate sheer power until their forms change.¡± ¡°Form¡­changes?¡± ¡°Eventually, like you saw with the nymphs, they¡¯ll start to look more human. Once they start having a sapient understanding of their environment¡ªwhich those nymphs did not, for the record¡ªthey can advance like humans.¡± Phason¨¦ folded another few strands of purple flower petal under the other, moving faster than Vayra could rip them. ¡°Speaking of which, you should probably give it a name before it gets to that point.¡± ¡°How long will it take to turn more¡­human?¡± ¡°Depends how much well-water you feed it. Those plants just had to absorb trickles of it through their roots to get themselves started, but if you direct it? I imagine you could have the kitten talking like a toddler in a few years.¡± Vayra started ripping shreds of flowers faster. They would need to get moving sooner than later. ¡°Alright, then. A name.¡± She blew a puff of air into her cheeks and sighed. Nothing came to mind right away. ¡°Uh¡­Fluffy?¡± Phason¨¦ turned and stared at Vayra with a blank expression. ¡°Alright, no, not it,¡± Vayra whispered. Bremi was always better at naming things. Why hadn¡¯t he and the other midshipmen given the kittens names yet? ¡°That was absolutely not it.¡± Phason¨¦ turned back to her weaving. ¡°Talock and I had a pet once, a long while ago. It was a little fell-hound¡ªorange mottled fur, flaming tail. We never fed it much elixir, of course, but it was named Adair.¡± ¡°Adair?¡± ¡°Named after an ancient mortal admiral, though I can¡¯t recall his exploits now. Where was I going with this¡­¡± The Goddess scratched her chin. ¡°Ah, well, old Adair¡ªthe fell-hound¡ªhad fur that looked a lot like this little guy¡¯s.¡± Vayra picked up the kitten and held it away from her for a second. ¡°Adair, huh? Maybe one day you¡¯ll lead a fleet.¡± She shrugged, then set the kitten back down. ¡°I¡¯ll take it. Gotta keep the name spreading somehow.¡± The kitten meowed, then ran around in a circle. Already, it didn¡¯t seem so wobbly on its feet. Before Vayra could reach out and stop it, it pounced on the remaining droplets of golden elixir on the ground and licked them up. ¡°He¡¯s already got a penchant for magical power,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°You¡¯ll get along fine.¡± The next day, they finished the seventh barrel, and Vayra began to fill them all up. She dipped them down into the well and hoisted them back up, using a standard Bracing technique to strengthen her arms enough to lift and lower entire barrels of water herself. She had to restrain herself from using the Astral Shroud; the proper, full technique only bolstered her speed, not her strength. Once all seven barrels had been filled, Phason¨¦ retreated back inside Vayra, and they loaded the barrels into the corespace. Vayra wrapped her arms around the barrels and clung tight to them one at a time, focussing her willpower to drag them into her core. ¡®We wouldn¡¯t have been able to carry so much outside matter before racing Second Lieutenant,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, while Vayra wrapped her arms all the way around the fourth barrel and hugged it tight. ¡®But now that we have a more firmed-up core, it should be a little easier.¡¯ Vayra flashed into the corespace with the barrel and let go of it. She placed it next to the other three. Phason¨¦ had dragged the others up to the top of the hill at the core¡¯s center. ¡°So? What are we going to put in here?¡± Vayra asked, hauling the fourth barrel up to the center of the hill. Adair, who had been dragged into the corespace two barrels ago, ran circles around her feet, mewing at her. ¡°Like, actually put in here, mind-like, how we built the landscape. We¡¯re supposed to put some vegetation down. A bit of an ecosystem, if I understand what Nathariel said right.¡± When Vayra pulled the barrel up to the top of the hill and shoved it in next to the rest, she wrenched herself out of the corespace, but the conversation didn¡¯t stop. ¡®A bedding of silver kagwart,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It¡¯s a great base plant, and it¡ª¡¯ ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know what that looks like.¡± Vayra walked back across the clearing to the last few barrels and grabbed another one. Her core already felt stuffed, no matter how much Phason¨¦ assured her that she could fit all seven in (barely). It didn¡¯t feel full like it had been stuffed with Arcara, but a different, deeping spiritual fullness. Like she had crammed a square into a circular hole, and was now suffering the consequences of it. As she dragged the last three barrels into her core, Phason¨¦ explained the silver kagwart: ¡°It¡¯s a herb, really, though it¡¯s mostly decorative. My mother had a garden full of it, and it always shimmered beautifully at night. That¡¯s the only significance, really.¡± When Vayra dragged the last barrel into her core, and the entire center of magic felt like it was about to burst apart into thousands of pieces, Phason¨¦ asked, ¡°What plants would you have here?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t say I know all that many plants,¡± Vayra said, leaning on the edge of one of the barrels. ¡°Tavelle wasn¡¯t a city for having living plants¡ªexcept weeds, and I don¡¯t want to put weeds in here.¡± ¡°I should have expected that,¡± Phason¨¦ replied. Then, the eyes of the Goddess¡¯ fully-coloured, inside-the-core body lit up with excitement. ¡°Does that mean I get to do all the gardening?¡± ¡°If you¡¯d like.¡± Vayra dropped out of the corespace one last time. She checked her surroundings just to make sure she hadn¡¯t left anything behind, then walked to the edge of the clearing. They needed to keep moving. ¡®Yes please!¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Oh, yes, I¡¯d love that!¡¯ Vayra increased her pace. They needed a place to work that wasn¡¯t so obvious, and hopefully it was somewhere far from here¡ªwhere Larra wouldn¡¯t catch up for a long while. Vayra pushed aside the wall of flower petals at the edge of the clearing and marched out into the wilderness. Chapter 26: Marching Orders [Volume 3] Glade¡¯s father had told him many stories about serving as a Redmarine, but Glade had been very young. Only one stuck with him now, and it was about the battle of Port Fallerton, where his father had lost his leg. The marines were packed into tight ranks like a palisade wall. The fife and drum played a cheery tune, and the marines set off, marching slowly across the fields at a waiting brigade of bluecoats. They had to keep straight faces, even as those around them started to collapse. Dead or maimed, of course. A musket shot would do that to a mortal. When they reached an effective range, they stopped and pointed their muskets, and the line infantry battle truly began. Glade¡¯s father hadn¡¯t lasted long. It was only one or two volleys before a half-inch wide musket shot blasted clean through his leg. But the marines couldn¡¯t run away or back down, and they couldn¡¯t even show fear, no matter how scared they might have been. They had to have been terrified. His father had made a sacrifice, and that couldn¡¯t be wasted. Glade had a duty too. Each sip of the fruit elixir made Glade¡¯s body shudder. The first time it happened, he started convulsing and nearly fell over, before Nathariel commanded him to take control and use the new cycling technique. And as soon as he started to integrate the elixir, he noticed the effects of the extra life aspect that had seeped into the liquid. His enhanced body, which had previously only felt like a layer on top, started to bleed down and reach into his muscles, properly integrating with them and becoming something more physical. It was becoming a part of him. So, for the next few days, he drank fruit elixirs¡ªeven the name of it felt odd, like something from a fancy party that he¡¯d never have been invited to until he was an elder of the Order. When he was an eighth of the way through the Master¡¯s Mate stage, he sensed tendrils of pink-orange power pushing through his muscles, like a net binding them to his Arcara channels and transmitting his power directly out into it. He stood up, and this time, his limbs didn¡¯t feel so out of control. He stood up like he normally could. He walked around the slope of roots, hands in his pockets, just basking in the normalness of his movement. Until he realized that he¡¯d planted his foot down hard enough to crack the wood. Not completely normal, and not fully in control. He walked back to Nathariel and Pels, who both seemed content to watch curiously. When he stopped in front of them, he nodded, and said, ¡°It feels a lot¡­better, now.¡± He had been using a proper cycling technique during the Quartermaster stage, of course, pushing his Arcara and mana out of his channels and preparing his muscles for the enhanced body, but such a transition was impossible to prepare for, and especially for someone with minor spirit potential. Only now did he feel prepared. Or¡­post-pared, as it were. He shook his head. Postpared wasn¡¯t a word¡ªan Order of Balance disciple shouldn¡¯t think like that. Informal, improper. Nathariel clapped him on the shoulder and let out a laugh. ¡°Aye, then we need to take your training up a few notches. Your body is ready for it. We¡¯ll push you to Master, past this little intermediary stage. If we¡¯re going to get you to Captain in time, we¡¯ll still need to pick up the pace.¡± Glade gulped. Not even God-heirs were supposed to go this fast. Not even the Mediator¡­ Then he remembered Wren. Like him, her spirit potential had been weak, but she had elixirs and the backing of a powerful family. But he had assumed she was decades, even centuries, old. Perhaps that was still true, but he began to wonder. ¡°Can¡­can I take it?¡± he asked. He glanced at Pels. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me, boy,¡± Pels said. ¡°Until you and Vayra showed up in Tavelle, I¡¯d never seen a God-heir, let alone a Mediator.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°No, your body cannot take it,¡± Nathariel said bluntly. ¡°There is a reason most God-heirs go so slow, and it¡¯s not always that they don¡¯t have the resources. Pumping your body full of elixirs so quickly is going to leave lasting damage, and there are very few ways to fix it.¡± ¡°I mean¡­right now, though, can I take it? Or will I tear myself apart before the tournament?¡± ¡°That much is up to you,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Are you strong-willed enough to hold yourself together, or will you burst apart? I sincerely hope it¡¯s the former, but we¡¯ll find out.¡± Pels ran over to Nathariel and tugged on his shoulder. ¡°Now, you have a responsibility to train him¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done all I can for him, but this is up to him.¡± Nathariel shrugged Pels¡¯ hand off and kept walking. He jumped off the current root and onto a lower, gnarled platform. ¡°He has a cycling technique to prepare his channels, he has an integration technique. But does he have the willpower to hold it together, to maintain it overnight, and to simply not fall apart under the spiritual strain? I can¡¯t teach that.¡± Pels and Glade scrambled along the roots after the Admiral. From here, they had a vantage over the entire orchard, and a view out beyond the greenhouse. He couldn¡¯t see the Harmony anymore, but a few other ships had arrived along the canal by now. More God-heirs. The fallen wedge of glass would funnel them all onto this side of the greenhouse, and soon, there would be competition. Glade picked up his pace, catching up with Pels and Nathariel. As they ran, Pels said to Nathariel, ¡°But you don¡¯t have to push him so hard!¡± ¡°We need to get him to Captain in a few months,¡± Nathariel said calmly. ¡°I gave the Mediator a tight schedule, and his will be even tighter. He needs to hit Lieutenant within the next few weeks, or he will run out of time to navigate through the Lieutenant stages.¡± ¡°It is alright,¡± Glade whispered to Pels. ¡°I will do my best, and if it is too much, then I will have done my duty.¡± Pels narrowed his eyes. ¡°What happens when a spirit breaks?¡± Nathariel didn¡¯t answer until they were back on solid, dirt-covered ground, tromping through the orchard of smaller trees. ¡°If it breaks at the low stages? Before Lieutenant? Not much. He will never be able to use magic again, for certain, and his lungs might ache in the morning.¡± ¡°And after?¡± Pels demanded, marching up to Nathariel¡¯s side. ¡°What happens if his spirit breaks after that? What happens if he can¡¯t win the tournament and beat out century-old God-heirs who have been striving for this their entire life, eh? What happens if Vayra can¡¯t take out the toughest opponents and clear the way for him?¡± ¡°His core will shatter and his channels will shred,¡± Nathariel said. He kept his gaze straight forwards, piercing through the trees with a disconnected intent. ¡°They will have become so intertwined with his physical body that he will be a cripple. It will hurt to move a muscle, and he may never walk again.¡± Glade shut his eyes, and his stomach sank. He had expected something like that. A Redmarine in a battle-line would march slowly in formation towards a waiting wall of enemy soldiers. His father had done that, and so would he. He imagined himself in a blood-red coat, holding a musket on his shoulder¡­ ¡°It¡¯s¡ªit is alright, Captain,¡± Glade said. ¡°I understand the risks. For the Kingdom of Velaydia, I must at least try.¡± Pels delivered a slow nod, then a sigh. ¡°If you¡¯re willing, not much else I can say. But don¡¯t forget, boy, you have people who care about you now.¡± He raised a finger. ¡°And they¡¯re not Order sycophants who will applaud your sacrifice as glorious martyrdom.¡± ¡°Pels, don¡¯t misunderstand me,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to damage your spirit. I will never advance beyond Admiral. In my youth, I stumbled across a wealth of elixirs, and thought they¡¯d make me a legend. It did push me higher than I thought I would ever climb, but I pushed myself too hard and fast, and though I stopped before my spirit collapsed, I did permanent damage. I know exactly what I¡¯m doing to Glade.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°But unlike me, he has a way out.¡± After one day of scouring the forests, following Nathariel, Glade had clued in that the Admiral was looking for something. ¡°Talock built these facilities to raise up God-heirs quickly, I figure,¡± Nathariel had explained. ¡°And to that end, I also suspect he had mental enhancement facilities.¡± ¡°Mental enhancements?¡± Glade had asked. ¡°God-heirs need to sleep, too, until they learn a technique to keep themselves awake for extended periods. But there are elixirs that can act as ¡®bottled sleep¡¯, essentially. It¡¯ll give you some spiritual energy, plus we won¡¯t have to take breaks at night.¡± After two more days, they found another pair of wells. One carried a base elixir with a potent spiritual energy, perfect for raw power. It shone gold, and Glade thought he could make out little flecks of pollen in it. ¡°That golden one is what they were making on the other side,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It¡¯s what Vayra has access to, and lots of it.¡± He peered down into the well and crossed his arms. ¡°We aren¡¯t so lucky. The water table here has been significantly lowered, and this well has almost run dry. Lots of thirsty plants.¡± The other well, however, didn¡¯t seem to interact with the groundwater at all. Its walls were cobblestone, and only thin white roots draped dorn from above¡ªnot from the side. These roots, however, didn¡¯t absorb anything. Droplets of glimmering lavender liquid trickled out of their tips and poured into the well, creating a murky, brownish-purple solution that looked like the last thing Glade would ever want to drink. Again, he shut his eyes and imagined himself in a red coat. If he could march to his death, he could drink this. ¡°Extract from the leaves of¡­¡± Nathariel turned in a circle, holding his finger out. The wells had been hidden in the middle of an erratic orchard. Trees surrounded them, casting shade over both the wells and blocking his sight. ¡°There.¡± He stopped and pointed at a tree-sized with deep lavender leaves. ¡°The kausisia tree. It used to be known for its mind-altering properties¡ªand mind-altering in a good way. Like coffee, but ten times as powerful, and with the ability to truly rest you, making it no different than sleeping.¡± Beaming, Nathariel pointed back to the bottom of the well. ¡°We¡¯ve got a vat of it. Let''s make use of it, and make some progress.¡± Chapter 27: Moro-Ka [Volume 3] ¡°I thought it was going to be a few hours for the first convoy,¡± Myrrir grumbled. ¡°Not three days.¡± He leaned back on the wall of the wagon behind him. It rocked back and forth gently, and the barrels inside it wobbled and clattered. The roads out here weren¡¯t flat at the best of times, but right now, they were winding along a hilly pass in the foothills. Roots stuck up from the ground, not to mention all the rocks and boulders in the shadow of the mountains. It was midday and overcast, as every day had been since he¡¯d arrived, but today, a fog had settled across the trail. He could barely see the five wagons ahead and the five wagons behind. ¡°It¡¯s a wagon convoy, not a Streamrunner,¡± Tye said. ¡°Have patience.¡± He sat beside the middle wagon¡¯s coachman, a bluecoat, and had been conversing casually with the man. Myrrir crossed his arms across his chest. ¡°I¡¯ve got plenty of patience.¡± With a chuckle, Tye turned forwards. He said nothing more. ¡°If the rebels were going to attack,¡± Myrrir continued, running his hand down the pommel of his sword, ¡°now would be the perfect time.¡± The trees clung tight to the edge of the trail, and their branches hung overtop the trail, forming a net above them. It was a tunnel with no way out, not even up. He tilted his head back and rested it on the outer edge of the wagon cart. Nothing to do but wait. If there was anything that could pose a threat to him coming, he¡¯d feel a tingle in the back of his neck. ¡°Maybe your presence did scare them off, merc,¡± the bluecoat said, in the same tone they all spoke with. He must have been a pretty fresh one, though, because his voice hadn¡¯t gotten gravelly and scratchy yet. ¡°Maybe,¡± Myrrir muttered. ¡°Doubt it.¡± He didn¡¯t know much about the Moro-ka warriors, but they didn¡¯t seem like the type to accept defeat, even if they knew they couldn¡¯t win. A few minutes passed before Myrrir noticed anything. It started as a few distant murmurs¡ªvoices he couldn¡¯t make out¡ªand ended with a warble. Normally, that wouldn¡¯t have been out of the ordinary. The bluecoats talked to each other enough. But these voices came from off the trail. Big surprise there. An attack was coming. With an exasperated huff, Myrrir stood up. ¡°They¡¯re here.¡± He drew his sword from its sheath and pointed it out at the forest. ¡°You¡­hear something?¡± the bluecoat coachman asked. ¡°I hear lots of things,¡± Myrrir replied matter-of-factly. ¡°But yes. There are men out there, approaching from the west. They¡¯ll be on us in five minutes, or so.¡± He reminded himself that the bluecoats didn¡¯t have his enhanced natural senses, let alone spiritual sense. ¡°Stop the convoy and get yourselves ready.¡± The bluecoat pulled back on the reins of the horses and yelled, ¡°All stop! Make ready! They¡¯re coming!¡± The wagons all creaked to a halt. A faint breeze blew along the path, whisking a few wisps of fog away, and Myrrir picked out a bluecoat captain running towards them from the front of the line. He had golden epaulets and a bicorn hat instead of a tricorn. The captains, as he understood it, were those who had excelled in their basic post-creation training, and who were deemed skilled enough to lead small groups on unimportant missions. They were still expendable, of course. Myrrir and Tye were the only non-bluecoats on this mission. The captain stopped in front of Myrrir and Tye¡¯s wagon. ¡°What is it?¡± he demanded. ¡°The mercs hear something, captain,¡± the coachman stated. ¡°Men in the woods. It has to be the rebels.¡± ¡°Which direction?¡± ¡°West,¡± Myrrir provided. The captain¡¯s face was unreadable; he wore a mask like the rest of them. But after a few seconds, he dipped his head, then shouted, ¡°Everyone off! I want a battle line two men deep and as wide as we can get it! Now!¡± The bluecoats all leapt off the wagons. There were maybe thirty of them in total (Myrrir hadn¡¯t bothered to count) and they formed a line at the edge of the path, just as their captain demanded. The first row knelt and the second remained standing. All of the bluecoats¡¯ hands were trembling. The captain ran behind them on foot, nudging some of them into position and pushing others back a little. Then a horn sounded from deep within the woods. It was woody and high-pitched, and it echoed off the trees for a few seconds, so it couldn¡¯t have been close yet. But now, Myrrir picked out the rhythmic clomping of horse hooves. ¡°They¡¯re mounted,¡± he said, jumping off the back of the wagon. ¡°At least, some of them.¡± A few of the bluecoats looked back at him and cocked their heads skeptically. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°He has very strong senses,¡± Tye added. ¡°You should listen to him.¡± A few of the bluecoats murmured between themselves, but Myrrir caught them. They were asking ¡°Who is he?¡± mostly, but a few of them were worried whether he would protect them. This time, Myrrir let out a sigh of acceptance. ¡°Time to do what I was paid¡ª¡± Tye gripped his shoulder. ¡°Be careful. The Moro-ka are not to be taken lightly, and they might have God-heirs.¡± Myrrir raised his eyebrows. ¡°How?¡± ¡°A God comes to inspect a distant planet, or perhaps for a vacation, and has an affair¡ªhas children. A story as old as stories themselves. A God-heir could be veiling themselves.¡± Myrrir nodded if only to reassure the old man, then stepped forward, slipping through the ranks of bluecoats. Once he was in front of them, he whirled his sword up to a ready position¡ªthe blade¡¯s tip hovered just above his outstretched, non-sword hand. For good measure, he flicked the cap off his powder flask. ¡°Load!¡± the captain yelled. All of the bluecoats lifted their muskets off their shoulders, then pulled paper cartridges out of their haversacks and began the loading process. Their muskets clattered, their ram-rods clanked, and their frizzens snapped, and Myrrir couldn¡¯t hear anything else for a few short seconds. ¡°Fix bayonets!¡± the captain shouted. Another clatter. They all attached short bayonet blades to the tips of their muskets. ¡°Present arms!¡± The bluecoats pointed their muskets out to the woods. Those directly behind Myrrir were kind enough to shift the barrels of the musket slightly to the side. ¡°Wait until you can see them!¡± Myrrir yelled. ¡°The trees are thick, and if you wait too long, half your shots will go off into the woods instead of at the riders!¡± Whether they listened to him was up to them, but he hoped they¡¯d defer. He turned around and looked at Tye one last time. He told the man, ¡°Keep your head down and stay out of sight. Don¡¯t get yourself killed on my account.¡± Tye nodded dutifully, then dipped out of sight behind the barrels in the wagon. The forest ahead shook and shuddered, and the ground vibrated. The hoofbeats were loud enough that a mortal man could hear them. Shadows broke through the fog. Mounted riders navigated between the trees, their horse¡¯s hooves kicking up clouds of dirt. They shouted guttural noises, like a throat-singer but loader, and they lowered spears. ¡°Fire!¡± the bluecoat captain yelled. All at once, the bluecoats let off their barrage. A single cloud of smoke erupted from all the muskets, and a trill of booms rattled through the forest. Musket balls whizzed off into the distance, shredding trees and kicking up puffs of mud. And occasionally hitting something. The front lines of horses reared up, whinnying and crying. They tossed their riders off and collapsed. A few of the riders even took hits. They flew off the backs of their horses and tumbled to the ground. The rest of the riders kept charging. Myrrir squinted, testing his eyes against the fog. The riders wore scale lamellar armour, dull and brown in the fog. Their helmets all had horsetails, and most of them wore a fur cloak of some sort, which streamed behind them as they charged. Myrrir dropped his left hand to his powder flask and accumulated a host of beads beneath his hand. Once he had enough, he flung his hand outwards, shooting out three tendrils of gunpowder at the three closest riders. He Moulded the tips of the tendrils into spears and drove it through the horses¡¯ heads before also impaling the riders. The three collapsed, and he called his gunpowder back to him. The rest of the riders converged. Myrrir slipped between a pair, hacking off a horse¡¯s leg before smashing through the rider with his blade. He mustered a Bracing technique over the majority of his body, enhancing his strength further. With each hit, he killed a rebel horseman. A few of them carried muskets, but he held up his hand and extended tendrils of Arcara¡ªthe weapons all backfired on their wielders. Once the first wave had been annihilated, he dragged himself back to the line of bluecoats. His channels ached, and his core was unstable, like a spinning top about to flop over. The bluecoats all stared at him. He looked away. A few horses had made it past his rampage and charged into the bluecoats, though, and the line had thinned. The remaining bluecoats all reloaded their muskets, ready to fire another volley. The moment they finished, Myrrir noticed a buzz in the back of his neck. It wasn¡¯t faint. Someone had just ripped a veil off. He shut his eyes and extended what little spiritual awareness he had. It was a Captain, just like him. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint where. His eyes widened. ¡°Hold the line,¡± he commanded the bluecoats. ¡°Do not stand, do not turn. Their horses won¡¯t purposely impale themselves.¡± The second wave was much larger. Myrrir attacked, but this time, he kept his tendrils of gunpowder closer to himself¡ªwhen the God-heir challenged him, he¡¯d need it to stay alive. Bluecoats shouted and screamed behind him, and he didn¡¯t dare look back to see what had happened to their formation. Still, he whirled from horseman to horseman, cutting down riders and destroying their mounts. He waited for the God-heir patiently. The longer it was, the deeper the sinking feeling grew and the more oppressive the tingle in the back of his neck became. Then, behind him, his senses flared up in warning. He whirled about, holding his sword straight ahead, and reaching out with tendrils of gunpowder. A single man approached on foot, clad in the exact same armour as his companions. Except he held a Jai, just like Myrrir. The blade was chiseled ruby, and three brass hung out the back of the blade. Its hilt was shaped the exact same. The Moro-ka unleashed a wave of blue light. A sphere crackled out around him, annihilating the strands of gunpowder. Bolts of lightning seared through the black beads, annihilating them in a single burst. A lightning Path. Myrrir raised his sword, ready to meet the Moro-ka head on. The man batted Myrrir¡¯s sword down into the ground and struck him in the chest with an open palm, and before Myrrir could finish another Arcara cycle, he was on his back. The God-heir slashed across his stomach, then drove the tip of his sword into Myrrir¡¯s shoulder. Myrrir shouted, then swung himself to the side to dodge a killing blow. The God-heir loomed over him, lightning crackling along his arms and around the blade of his sword. Myrrir tried to muster another bracing technique¡ªanything to get him out of this mess¡ªbut his spirit failed him. His channels were too charred. His core collapsed in on itself, sending bolts of pain throughout his entire body, and his Arcara channels thinned. This was it, then. He shut his eyes. Father would be so disappointed. But the God-heir only sneered, ¡°Broken. Pathetic. I was expecting something more.¡± There was a faint, blunt pain on the back of his head, and he collapsed. Everything went dark. Chapter 28: The Great Way [Volume 3] Vayra trekked across the rigid landscape of the greenhouse¡¯s interior for a week, constantly looking over her shoulder. Every step, she scanned for a tingle in the back of her neck¡ªjust to be safe. But if Larra wanted to, she could veil herself, and Vayra wouldn¡¯t get much warning. She kept to the high ground as best as she could, walking along the top of valley ridges or climbing the stepped hills. At least if Larra used a flashy technique to approach quickly, Vayra would see it coming. The flower-trees shrank and faded away into patches. They ended up as just scattered patches of normal-sized flowers. For another half-day, she ran across the open fields, trying to stay out of sight, though there wasn¡¯t much cover. Besides, trying to run with her own spirit veiled¡ªand while carrying seven barrels of elixir in her corespace¡ªwas enough to make her queasy. It wasn¡¯t a physical weight bearing down, and certainly not as much as she had expected from carrying so much, but it weighed down on her spirit. ¡®Support the core with a bed of mana,¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. ¡®Don¡¯t move the mana once you get it in place¡ªmaintain your own veil¡ªbut just make a nest for the core to rest in. That might take some strain off you.¡¯ For a few seconds, Vayra broke the veil to put the bed of mana in place. She imagined cupping invisible hands around the core, and she started to feel less queasy. But, she suspected the only true antidote to the weight was continuing her advancement through the Lieutenant stages. A stronger core meant a stronger corespace. After that, she kept herself unveiled. If Larra could exert the power of an Admiral and use Admiral-grade Arcara, then Vayra¡¯s veil probably wouldn¡¯t do much against a spiritual scan anyway. She started to use and integrate more of the elixir as they ran. On the fourth day, a forest of wheat enveloped her. The green stalks were as thick as aspen trunks¡ªthough veins of energy criss-crossed beneath the surface of their stalks¡ªand their heads towered twenty feet above. Each individual grain of wheat was as large as a breadroll. Vayra was about to pick one up and try to digest it, but Phason¨¦ reminded her that the spirit grains were inconsequential until they were refined into an elixir. They were better off looking for more wells or some kind of other automatic refining system, so they kept walking. When night fell on the wheat forest and Vayra prepared to settle down for the night, Phason¨¦ asked, ¡®Where are we walking to? We can¡¯t just wander aimlessly forever.¡¯ ¡°I was hoping to find more wells,¡± Vayra said. ¡°A place we could hide, with all the resources we need to advance all around us.¡± ¡®Staying in one spot for too long will be a bad idea,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®If you face Larra before you¡¯re a Captain, head to head, you¡¯ll lose. We¡¯ll lose.¡¯ ¡°We have one thing going for us,¡± Vayra said. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to kill us.¡± ¡®Yes, and imprisonment for a lifetime, only to have our throats slit at the end of our lives, is so much better?¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m not saying we should try to get caught.¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled. ¡®At least we can agree on that.¡¯ Vayra put her hands on her hips, then stopped walking. She was about to enter the corespace and draw out another few sips of elixir, when Phason¨¦ commanded, ¡®Stop.¡¯ ¡°What?¡± ¡®We should practice drawing something out without you pushing your entire consciousness into the corespace.¡¯ ¡°How do I do that?¡± ¡®You can feel the elixir weighing on you, can¡¯t you? Use the mana, the bits that you¡¯re supporting the core with, to reach inside. Focus on the feeling of the elixir, and draw some of it out to your hand.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes, but she didn¡¯t pull herself into her core. She imagined her channels and the invisible hands of mana supporting the extra weight in her core, then¡­ ¡­reached inside. There was an impression of something, and she tried to draw it out, to push it into her hands. First, she ended up withdrawing a chunk of the thick flower petal that Phason¨¦ had woven into barrels. ¡°Oh. Whoops. Phas¡­are the barrels leaking in there?¡± ¡®You took a chunk of one of the half-empty barrels, thankfully¡­and it was from the upper rim. We¡¯re fine.¡¯ Vayra tossed the chunk of flower over her shoulder and tried again. This time, Adair materialized in her hand. He mewled in fright and buried his head under his paws, flattening his ears against his head. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Vayra whispered to him, even if he couldn¡¯t understand what she was saying. ¡®Put him back in the same way you got him out,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Vayra reversed the mana process she had used to draw Adair out of the corespace and tucked him back inside. ¡°Kitten made it back safely, right?¡± ¡®He¡¯s a little¡­upset. But otherwise, he¡¯s unharmed.¡¯ Vayra sighed with relief, then concentrated especially on the heaviness of the barrels. She penetrated inside them with her willpower and searched the impression they left in her core. With a cupped scoop of mana, she tugged on the magic-warped reality that stored the elixir. The golden liquid filled the cup of her left hand, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, and a little extra dribbled over the side. ¡°Well, that was a lot of effort,¡± she muttered. ¡®You¡¯ll get better at it. Soon, you won¡¯t even need a haversack.¡¯ ¡°Not if the entirety of my carrying ability is occupied by elixirs.¡± ¡®But once we use those up¡­¡¯ Vayra slurped the elixir out of her hand and took a few more steps, then stopped. ¡°Why did Nathariel even need a voidhorn, then?¡± ¡®Like I said, your corespace is much more advanced than most God-heirs¡¯ is, and I imagine that our type of enhanced body is helping shoulder some of the load¡ªvastly strengthened and malleable channels, and such. Most God-heirs can only store small objects in their corespaces.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then kept walking. Every step, she completed a single cycle, integrating the elixir into her spirit and building up more of an Arcara base. ¡®You still don¡¯t have any idea where you¡¯re going, do you?¡¯ Vayra dropped her arms down and let out a soft groan. ¡°No¡­¡± She wrapped her arms and legs around one of the tree-sized wheat stalks, then began to pull herself up like she was climbing a gutter in Tavelle. ¡°What exactly do we need, aside from more elixir?¡± ¡®You need to get your Mediator Form working consistently. We do that, and we stand a chance against whatever it is that Larra¡¯s doing. She¡¯s got a trump card, so we¡¯ll meet it with our own.¡¯ ¡°And what do we need for that?¡± Vayra reached the top of the wheat stalk and pulled away some of the husk around the head, before perching on the still-intact grains. ¡°I¡¯ve got starsteel a starsteel bracer, which should still help our Arcara improve in quality¡ª¡± ¡®Diminishing returns. The jump in quality you got from pushing Mate Arcara through starsteel? Helpful. But now? You might get the equivalent of an eighth-stage higher. Not terribly helpful.¡¯ ¡°Socket some runestones into my arm?¡± ¡®No, unless Talock somehow thought to craft some runestones specially for the Mediator¡¯s purpose¡ªwhich isn¡¯t even his realm of expertise.¡¯ ¡°Are you going to tell me, or should I keep guessing?¡± ¡®I don¡¯t know exactly what we need to do to get it consistent. You accepted the virtues for a minute, sure, but that¡¯s not exactly how advancement works, the higher we get. That¡¯s why we needed the Order to help us.¡¯ ¡°Wait, what do you mean, ¡®that¡¯s not how advancement works¡¯?¡± Vayra instinctively dropped her voice quieter now that she was out of cover. She peered through swaying heads of the wheat stalks, searching the terrain nearby for Larra. Still nothing, but staying exposed like this wasn¡¯t a great idea. And it was even worse when Phason¨¦¡¯s white ghost manifested physically. The Goddess clung to the side of the wheat husk, slightly lower than Vayra, glowing and bright. ¡°You had to come out right now?¡± Vayra asked, tapping her foot inside her boot. ¡°Unless someone¡¯s looking at us from above, my appearance won¡¯t make any difference,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°At least this way, I know you aren¡¯t tuning out my mental voice.¡± She climbed up a little higher. ¡°Vayra, you must understand this: the Stream is a manifestation of universal law. It binds all planets in the galaxy, all life, all magic, all physical phenomena of order and chaos. It is the Great Way, the one true Path. To advance, eventually, you must understand. There will be revelations about yourself that you will have to accept, and revelations about the universe and nature that you will confront.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not just about accepting the virtues that make you the Mediator, the virtues the Stream requires of you, but about knowing what they mean to the entire galaxy.¡± Vayra shut her eyes for a moment. ¡°So, when I used the Mediator Form against Myrrir, I was¡­accepting them?¡± ¡°A touch, yes.¡± Vayra tightened her grip on the massive wheat husk. ¡°I was desperate, then. I had a lot more pushing me.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t now?¡± ¡°It¡¯s different. My brother isn¡¯t dying in front of me.¡± ¡°Do you need to see what Karmion has done to know how dire and precarious our situation is? Haven¡¯t you seen it?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen the aftermath of battles, sure.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll need something more potent, then.¡± ¡°Something more potent?¡± Vayra didn¡¯t like the sound of that. Phason¨¦ explained, ¡°Talock refined the essence of an ancient ¡®seeing plant¡¯. The kausisia, it was called, and he used it for his mind elixirs¡ªelixirs that could allow user¡¯s minds and bodies to go without sleep for days, or improve their mental faculties. But the plant itself allowed the user to peer into the Stream a little when fed enough refined Stream water, much like Nathariel¡¯s vision chamber on Muspellar.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll use that to¡­?¡± ¡°To help you see, understand, and have a better grasp on your purpose.¡± Vayra nodded. She needed the strongest weapon in her arsenal if she was going to walk out of here alive. ¡°The best patches would have been well above ground level,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°The pollen-water might be potent in refined spirit energy, but it wouldn¡¯t have been suitable for growing kausisia. There might be weak patches scattered all about, but we¡¯ll find the best specimens elsewhere.¡± She pointed up at the distant edge of the dome¡ªmiles away¡ªwhere a set of platforms clung to the dome¡¯s outer wall. ¡°There. You see those wood platforms? Like giant planter boxes?¡± ¡°I see them,¡± Vayra answered. As best as she could see, a turquoise, ferny plant covered them. ¡°Is that¡­what we need?¡± ¡°Not sure. But that will be our best shot.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s not going to be on the other side of the dome?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Certain. He would have further refined the groundwater runoff of the kausisia into proper mentally-stimulating elixirs on the other side¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re trailing off like there¡¯s a catch.¡± ¡°High quality kausisia is valuable,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°No doubt he placed some guardians of some sort around the best patches. We¡¯ll have to approach slowly and carefu¡ª¡± ¡°Quiet!¡± Vayra hissed. A wisp of white steam flashed in the corner of her eye¡ªfar in the distance. She whipped her head to the south. A trail of mist rose across the plains, like dust behind a sprinting horse. ¡°Water¡¯s coming from somewhere.¡± ¡°It has to be Larra,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°She¡¯s coming right at us,¡± Vayra whispered. She let go of the enormous wheat husk and slid down to the ground. ¡°Get back inside. We¡¯re using the Astral Shroud.¡± ¡°What happened to slow and careful?¡± ¡°If there¡¯s something deadly protecting your plants, then Larra will have to deal with it too. We¡¯ll lose her there. Come on!¡± Chapter 29: Golems [Volume 3] Vayra took an abrupt turn and sprinted to the east. With the Astral Shroud, she wove through the tree-sized stalks of wheat, trying to cut outwards to the edge of the dome. It was miles away, but it wasn¡¯t as far as it could have been. She was crossing a chord of the circle¡ªif her course stayed straight. She jumped down levels of terraformed land as she picked up speed, but soon, they became more like stairs. With a single step, she propelled herself down them. Her path sloped down, and the air whistled around her like wind¡ªit was the first time she¡¯d felt wind since she arrived here. The Astral Shroud left a brilliant white streak in the air. If Larra was watching, she would see it, if she hadn¡¯t already spotted or sensed Vayra. ¡°We need to reach the ledges before she catches up,¡± Vayra said, locking her eyes on the hanging platforms at the edge of the greenhouse. They clung to the glass dome like barnacles. Even at this distance, she couldn¡¯t make out any kind of stairway or ladder up to them, but there were plenty of hanging vines. ¡®She¡¯s got a full-body Bracing technique too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. Vayra sprinted until they emerged from the wheat forest and onto a perfectly flat plain of flax. She plowed through the little blue flowers; there was no way to dodge them. Most of them bent before she even touched them¡ªeither from her flaming white aura, or because of the wind she was creating. But with every step, her core sloshed around. It felt like it was full of water, not energy, and it didn¡¯t conduct and guide anywhere near as well as it should have when it was empty. She knew this wasn¡¯t the best she could do. In the open fields, she glanced over her shoulder. The plume of mist trailing Larra, now high up on the terraformed cliffs, was turning to follow Vayra. ¡°Any idea what her bracing technique is, Phas?¡± ¡®It¡¯s got something to do with water.¡¯ ¡°Yeah. Thanks.¡± ¡®Whatever it is, she¡¯s faster than us.¡¯ ¡°She¡¯s a hulking brute, and you¡¯re telling me we¡¯re not faster than that?¡± Vayra scowled. ¡®She¡¯s a Captain and you¡¯re not.¡¯ They needed more speed. They needed to reach the Kausisia platforms before Larra did. ¡°You¡¯re not going to like this, but we¡¯ll need to lighten our load,¡± Vayra said. ¡®Vayra¡­¡¯ ¡°The barrels. I¡¯m going to drop the half-empty one, and two more. We¡¯ll save as much as we can,¡± she said. She skittered to a halt and deactivated the Astral Shroud, then mustered one of the barrels out of her corespace. It was entirely full, and when it appeared in her arms, it took her down to her knees. She dropped it and let the golden elixir spill out, then snatched the empty barrel back up and tucked it back into her core. Larra was starting to descend the slope behind her. They had thirty seconds. Vayra pulled a second barrel out without sending her consciousness into the corespace and dumped it as well, then put the empty barrel back in. They could fill them up again later¡ªthere would be more wells. There had to be. Twenty seconds. She could make out two little black specks at the base of the misty plume¡ªLarra and her wolf. For the last barrel, Vayra ventured into the corespace personally. She grabbed the half-full barrel and dragged it out, then kicked it over. Ten seconds. She sucked the barrel back into her corespace. It was lighter, now. Everything was lighter. Her Arcara moved faster, bending to her will and commands, and when she reactivated the Astral Shroud, the world blurred around her. She took off with a boom. The air bent around her body. She tucked her head and tightened her sprinting form. The gap between her and Larra grew again. If Vayra stopped, it¡¯d be ten seconds until Larra reached her. Then twenty, then thirty. Between her and the Kausisia platforms, there were three more hills, each covered in a different overgrown crop. First, overgrown flax. She lost time weaving between the stalks, when Larra simply plowed through them, but on the open fields beyond, Vayra made up the time. Twenty seconds, then thirty, then forty¡­ When Vayra was halfway to the platforms, sprinting through a barren field of normal-sized wheat, Larra stopped. ¡°What¡¯s she doing?¡± Vayra panted. She didn¡¯t stop sprinting. Each step carried her ten paces. ¡°Is she tired?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡®I doubt it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®She¡¯s been using a full body Bracing technique and doing whatever she does to push her Arcara-grade to Admiral, and unlike you, she can¡¯t just cleanse her channels with a cycle of Arcara. She¡¯s probably dealing with minor blockages and debris buildup. Even water techniques have impurities to deal with.¡¯ ¡°So basically, she¡¯s tired.¡± But Vayra kept running, and she maintained the Astral Shroud. If she didn¡¯t stop, she was guaranteed a victory in the footrace. ¡®Don¡¯t get cocky. You¡¯re halfway through your mana.¡¯ ¡°And we¡¯re over halfway to the ledges.¡± She passed over a rigid hill with another forest of tree-sized wheat, then down to a deep valley. At the bottom, in the lowlands, waist-high bundles of rice grew in a swamp of Stream water. Vayra skimmed along the top in seconds, but just touching it restored a fraction of her mana. On the other side of the valley, there were more tree-sized flowers, but they weren¡¯t as tall as the first forest. The outer edge of the dome loomed over them, now, and the platforms were just ahead¡­ Sort of. They looked much higher, now, than they did from a few miles away. The lowest platform, a ledge of wood, perched up on the wall nearly at a height nearly four times taller than a ship¡¯s mainmast, and there was no rigging to climb up. She ran around the edge of the platform¡¯s shadow until she found a hanging vine long enough to climb. A turquoise tendril brushed against the ground, and it had started putting down roots. The main stalk was the width of her waist, and there were leaves and offshoots sturdy enough to bear her weight. She deactivated the Astral Shroud and began to scramble up the vine, pulling herself up leaf-by-leaf and only using basic, limited Bracing when she needed an extra boost in strength. When she was halfway up the vine, a knife of freshwater swished through the air, slicing towards the vine. It might have been liquid, but it was moving fast, and the edge seethed like a beast¡¯s gnashing jaw. It would cut through the vine just above her, and she¡¯d fall. She jumped off a leaf and grabbed a higher offshoot, then swung up and wrapped her legs around a higher leaf, then climbed a few feet higher. The water rushed towards the vine and blasted through just below her feet. Unstable and ungrounded, the vine began to swing, but she didn¡¯t fall off. Larra sprinted towards her still. She launched a few more blasts of water, but Vayra climbed faster than most of them. The last one shot straight at her head. She unleashed a Starlight Palm and dispersed the blast¡¯s point. Tiny needles of liquid water-Arcara fizzed past her, leaving small slices along her arms, but it was better than death or getting knocked off the vine. She scrambled up the rest of the vine, ascending the last distance to the main platform. As soon as she made it up, she wanted to flop onto her back and take a break¡ªmaybe sleep, or maybe just catch her breath¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t over. She was almost out of mana. ¡®An eighth left,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. Vayra needed to hide. The platform was a few hundred feet wide, covered in mounds of dirt and two-storey tall ferns. They had turquoise fronds, spread out like arms welcoming someone into an embrace, and they smelled sweet like honey. But their stems were covered in knife-sized thorns and needles. She ran into the center of the platform, ducking under fronds and swerving around the stems. She had to slow down if she didn¡¯t want to impale herself on the thorns. ¡°These are kausisia?¡± ¡®Looks about right to me,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. When Vayra reached the center of the platform, she stopped and fell to a crouch. When her breathing slowed down from a pant to a slow drone, she heard a faint whooshing noise off the distant edge of the platform. It sounded like a waterfall. Somehow, Larra was lifting herself up. ¡°Come on¡­where are the platform guardians?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Rip a fern off one of the plants,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. ¡°What? We want them to be mad at her, not us!¡± ¡®Do it!¡¯ Vayra turned to the nearest fern and grabbed the edge of one of the turquoise ferns. The moment her fingers touched it, they tingled. A light sensation fluttered behind her eyes, but she cleansed it with a few slow breaths. Then she pulled. A foot-long section of the fern¡¯s tip ripped off, and Vayra fell flat on her back. Just in time for Larra to rise up above the edge of the platform. She carried herself on a column of mist¡ªwater vapour. Just below her feet, a pillow of freshwater swirled, wide enough for both her and her wolf. Larra flung herself and her wolf into the center of the platform. They landed in a crouch right in front of Vayra. When Larra stood up and clenched her fist, the water swirled into three perfect rings around her. But the three of them weren¡¯t alone anymore. Pale white roots swirled up from the ground, still coated in mud. They appeared on either side of Vayra, first as aimless heaps of brown and white. A moment later, ankles formed, and the roots rose into a set of legs. In a heartbeat, two dirt-and-root golems had appeared on either side of her. They were each twice her height, with broad shoulders and bulges that reminded her of armour. They had spiked helmets, with crowns of roots, and two turquoise eyes glowed beneath the root-helmet¡¯s eye slit. Vayra spun to face them, then took a few steps back. A knife of water blasted into the ground only inches behind her, and she whirled back to face Larra. The God-heir had whipped out her three-part staff. ¡°Phas, are those really powerful nymphs?¡± Vayra whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the golems. ¡®More like really powerful animated vines,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Like what was guarding the doorway. Calling them a golem was correct. They were hand-fed by Talock.¡¯ Vayra turned sideways, attention split between Larra and the golems. She tried to scan the golems¡¯ spirits, but they, like the nymphs, had no core¡ªonly channels. ¡®I¡¯d say it feels like Commodore-stage Arcara, but without coming out there and taking some of your¡ª¡¯ With a shout, Larra charged, swiping her staff at Vayra. Vayra ducked, then tucked the ripped section of leaf into Larra¡¯s coat pocket. ¡°Yours now! Good luck!¡± The golems converged on Larra, and Vayra sprinted to the edge of the platform. Chapter 30: Rift [Volume 3] Since Glade had been taking the brownish-purple mind elixir, his mind hadn¡¯t ever tried to shut off. He¡¯d never even felt tired, and that made him best suited to keep watch. If he ever started to drift, feel a little tired, all he needed to do was take another scoop of water from the well and drink it. Every night, he climbed to the top of a tree and watched the landscape around them, keeping his eye out for any movement or unnatural light. Usually, after a few hours of rest, Nathariel would join him. The Admiral would offer tips and remind him when he was starting to lag behind in his cycling pattern or go too fast. There might not have been as much spiritual energy in this well-water as there was in other elixirs, but it was more than he had ever expected to have. Tonight, Nathariel wasn¡¯t up in the tree with him yet. Glade was on his own, cycling the bits of energy from the last handful of elixir he¡¯d drank from the well. With his weak spirit potential, he wasn¡¯t ever able to get much mana out of the Stream just by touching it, but elixirs fed right into his channels. This was an opportunity that someone like him never should have had, and he couldn¡¯t let a second of it go to waste. Until, up on a distant hill, he saw an orange, fiery glimmer. He took a sip from his canteen, which he had filled with well-water, and immediately cycled it up through the channels in his mind. They ached from constant use, but with the elixir, any little dregs of exhaustion fled from his mind. The distant flame was still there. Whether it was a torch, or a lantern, or something else, it wasn¡¯t natural. It flickered and shifted. He tried using his spiritual sight¡ªclenching the muscles around his eyes¡ªbut it didn¡¯t extend far enough. He jumped down out of the tree and landed in a crouch. Pels slept with his back up against a tree, hand on his bandolier and one of his pistols. Nathariel slept right in front of the well. Apparently, the Admiral hadn¡¯t wanted to use any of the well water because he didn¡¯t want to take any from Glade, who needed it more. Glade didn¡¯t necessarily believe the explanation, but he let it slide. Still, he ran over to Nathariel and shook the man¡¯s shoulders. Nathariel bolted upright. His eyes glimmered bright orange, and flame shone along his fingertips. Glade leapt back, out of the immediate field of fire of Nathariel¡¯s attacks. He skidded along the dirt, holding his hands up defensively. ¡°Nathariel, there is something out there. We need your senses.¡± Rubbing his head, Nathariel yawned. The fire in his eyes dimmed, and the flames fizzled off his fingertips. ¡°Aye, that you do.¡± They climbed back to the top of the tree and peered out in the direction that Glade had pointed. Nathariel pressed his fingers to his forehead and shut his eyes. After a few seconds, he said, ¡°Three God-heirs. They came in recently; I didn¡¯t sense them before.¡± ¡°How strong?¡± ¡°A First Lieutenant and two Third Lieutenants.¡± Glade rolled his lips inward. ¡°We could defeat them?¡± ¡°I could defeat them,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It¡¯s possible they hit you or Pels in the process, and there¡¯s not a lot I can do about those odds.¡± ¡°Fire shield?¡± ¡°Against musket shots? Of course. Against arcane techniques? I can¡¯t guarantee your protection against so many of them.¡± Nathariel jumped down from the tree and said, ¡°And we don¡¯t need to cause a scene. It¡¯s better if they don¡¯t know we¡¯re here. A fire-Path God-heir attracts attention.¡± Glade jumped down from the tree again and nodded. ¡°Where to, then?¡± ¡°We look for another well¡ªpreferably, something along the way up to the top of the dome.¡± But, just in case, Nathariel drew three kegs of rum out of his voidhorn. He dumped them out with a grimace, then said, ¡°Fill them with well water. I still have one in the horn if Pels needs to drink something.¡± The Captain, being a complete mortal, wasn¡¯t suited to drinking large amounts of elixir of any kind. With nowhere to go, no Arcara system to process it, the mana would slowly tear him apart. Glade dipped the kegs down into the well. He remembered asking Elder Eman-Fa why some humans got so unlucky, when other races either had innate spirit potential¡ªlike phoenixes¡ªor animals, who could all eventually develop an Arcara system if exposed to enough spiritual power. Elder Eman-Fa had given a long-winded explanation about humans¡¯ level of sapience, and humans being the most abundant race, but then had simply said, ¡°Life isn¡¯t fair.¡± Once he had the three kegs filled up, Nathariel took them all back into the voidhorn. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. They shouldn¡¯t have fit in, not even past the opening, but the kegs just seemed to flash out of existence. One minute, they were outside, and the next, they were inside. Nathariel must have done something to control it. As soon as they had the kegs safely stored, they woke up Captain Pels and set off into the woods. They aimed for the central dividing wall of the greenhouse. Beneath the upper, inverted control dome, their final target, a few massive conks clung to the glass, and if they planned their ascent right, they might be able to climb up between them. In the morning, they arrived at the central wall, and Nathariel reported that the God-heirs they had spotted the previous night were far behind¡ªthey probably hadn¡¯t moved much from their location last night. Glade stood a few paces from the central wall, but he had to crane his neck all the way up to see the top of the dome. A bundle of roots ran out through a hole in the glass (which they had grown around and completely blocked) and climbed along the wall. They had the same pale, barky outer texture as the roots that had fuelled the greenhouse from the outside, and they were about the same diameter, but they had no hairs on their outside. ¡°Well, we¡¯d better get climbing,¡± Pels said. He pulled two ram-rods out of two of his pistols, then drove the semi-sharp ends into the soft bark of the root like they were climbing picks. Nathariel climbed with his bare hands, slipping his fingers into the crags in the root¡¯s surface, and Glade used his sword to help him. Soon, the two overtook Pels. The first conk was only about fifty feet off the ground. When they reached it, Nathariel produced a rope from his voidhorn and tossed it down to Pels. Reluctantly, the man climbed up to join them. The top of the conk was barren, save for a few small plants. It protruded away from the wall about the length of a ship, and it was entirely flat. But when Glade observed the enormous fungi with his spiritual sight, he caught glimpses of almost-purified, glowing mana swirling beneath the surface. ¡°They are¡­siphoning off the roots,¡± Glade said. ¡°Aye,¡± Nathariel responded. ¡°They purify, too, and their natural refining qualities make it quite potent. These are greedy little parasites, and they don¡¯t give anything back to the main root. There¡¯s only one reason they grew so big¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we¡¯ll find another well up here.¡± Pels knelt down, tapping his knuckles against the beige surface of the conk. It clacked like stone. ¡°Pretty tough.¡± ¡°We could dig through it if we had time to spare,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°But we don¡¯t have time to spare, and seeing how potent the energy in these has gotten, and how many of them there are, I suspect we will find something much more useful nearby. We should keep climbing.¡± They continued up the roots, passing four more clumps of conks. When conks were close together, they created an aura that hurt to look at when Glade observed it in his spiritual sight, and a field of air that felt thick. It wasn¡¯t quite as viscous as water, but an extra pressure resisted his hand. ¡°They¡¯re starting to grow powerful enough to distort reality,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°This is a fraction of what you¡¯d feel in the presence of a god, but gods move around. These conks don¡¯t. They¡¯ve had a long time to start warping the fabric of the galaxy itself, knowingly or not.¡± When they reached the fifth set of conks, there was also a decades-old maintenance platform awaiting them. It was entirely wood, and it wrapped around the central bundle of roots. Moss-covered trellises supported it, and a lattice of rope rigging attached it to the wall. It might have once been temporary, and it might not have been, but it wasn¡¯t going anywhere now. Another clump of conks grew around it¡ªan especially large clump. Glade counted ten stacked half-dishes of mushroom. He climbed up to the platform, then offered Pels a hand. The man took it willingly. Once they were all up on the platform, Glade turned in a circle and surveyed his surroundings. They had to be just under a mile off the ground, but they weren¡¯t even a quarter of the way to the top of the dome. He spun in a circle, turning back towards the central wall of the greenhouse. A wooden crane perched in the middle of the maintenance platform, and it held a small sheet of wood and glass panels¡ªpanels filled with Moulded Arcara. It was probably preparing to replace a sheet of the central wall, but construction hadn¡¯t even started before the greenhouse had been abandoned. Much to Glade¡¯s dismay, the damaged panels were still intact, and even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do to break the true central wall open. He sat down at the crane¡¯s base. His arms didn¡¯t ache, but his Arcara channels did. His dawnspear body was consuming mana, and his mouth was starting to get dry. He didn¡¯t have anything to form a seer-core out of, even if he knew how, but he didn¡¯t need one to know that his mana was running low. But, before he could catch his breath, Nathariel exclaimed something. He stood at the edge of the maintenance platform, waving Glade and Pels over with his hand. Glade pushed himself up to his feet, but Pels stayed exactly where he was. ¡°I¡¯m good. No need to go exploring the heights if I don¡¯t need to. If it¡¯s important, you¡¯ll come get me, eh?¡± Glade ran to the edge of the platform, where Nathariel waited. ¡°You see that?¡± Nathariel pointed down at one of the lower conks clinging to the roots¡ªabout thirty feet below. ¡°What am I looking for?¡± Glade asked. ¡°You¡¯ll see it. Keep looking.¡± Glade squinted. At the center of the conk, the air blurred. At its center was a slight¡­rift. A few inch-wide cracks had formed up in the middle of the empty air, and tendrils of light slipped through. Without another word, Nathariel jumped down to the conk. Glade jumped down right behind him. When they landed, they walked in a circle around the rift. The entire thing was twice Glade¡¯s height, and if he turned sideways, he¡¯d fit through the entire thing. It was a gateway of some kind, and on the other side, there was nothing but an empty plain of white sand and dark sky. ¡°And this is why the Gods were limited to the upper realms,¡± Nathariel muttered. ¡°Their presence creates anomalies like this. Sure, Talock might have cleaned it up, but he isn¡¯t here anymore.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Glade breathed. ¡°A rift.¡± Nathariel snapped his fingers, conjuring a bolt of flaming Arcara above the tip of his thumb. It flickered normally outside, but when he reached into the rift, it flickered many times fast. When he pulled it out, it flickered normally again. ¡°There¡¯s a little pocket realm in there. It¡¯ll probably seal up after a few days, but while it lasts, this could be exactly what we need.¡± ¡°Why is that?¡± ¡°It¡¯ll give you more time, kid. And you can''t get enough of that right now.¡± Chapter 31: Nasyme [Volume 3] If Myrrir thought the road was rough on a wagon, it was worse on the back of a horse. His hands had been bound (as if he had the strength to use them) and wrapped around one of the Moro-ka riders¡¯ necks. He bounced up and down with each step of the horse. With each log they pranced over, his wounds screamed, and with each crevice or gully they jumped across, his head lolled forward and back. They had left the trail, and they didn¡¯t seem to follow any road. That didn¡¯t help his splitting headache. It was the worst headache he¡¯d had in years. He¡¯d never been this low on mana in decades. There was absolutely nothing in his worn-out and bedraggled channels. Could he burn muscle and body for mana? Yes, but¡­he was in no state to do that. With all the Moro-Ka warriors, surrounding him on all sides, he¡¯d push himself too far. He¡¯d sooner become a captain-grade Ko-Ganall and destroy the planet. He didn¡¯t want to do that. He passed in and out of consciousness. At some point it started raining. He opened his mouth, trying to catch and drink any rainwater. He didn¡¯t know how long it had been, but he woke up a few times during the night, when the planet¡¯s three pale moons stared down at him, and the stars sneered at him. They left the forest after a few days of riding and trotted out across a hilly plain. House-sized boulders dotted the land, and unkempt prairie grass nearly rose to the horses¡¯ bellies. ¡°Tye¡­¡± Myrrir muttered. The Moro-Ka warrior who carried Tye¡ªnot the God-heir, but a mortal¡ªsaid something in a foreign language that Myrrir couldn¡¯t pick out. It sounded like ¡°shut up¡±, and though Myrrir doubted that was what the man actually meant, he took the hint and stayed silent. After about a week, or maybe two, or¡­ Myrrir didn¡¯t know how long it had been. ¡­after a certain amount of time had passed, the horses trotted along a bluff, then into a deep mountain valley. It was night, and an orange glow clung to the valley¡¯s slopes. That was all Myrrir could pick out in his blurry vision. It was a village of some kind. Before they passed the first house, he fell unconscious again. A needle-wide ray of sunlight tickled Myrrir¡¯s face. He swatted it with his hand, trying to make it go away, but it wouldn¡¯t. He settled on squinting. He tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but his arm gave out, and he fell flat on his back. It knocked what little air was left in his lungs out. With a groan, he rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes. The walls were all plain¡ªvarnished wood with lattice windows. The floor was cold wood, and the ceiling was a peaked, thatched roof. It was the quietest place he had ever been to¡­in many years. For once, he heard his own breathing as he tried to cycle. No mana, no Arcara movement. He tasted the pine air, and that was it. Grunting, Myrrir pushed himself over to the wall, then used it to haul himself to his feet with the strength of his own limbs. So this was what the Mediator had felt when he had first imprisoned her, huh? He patted himself down. He still wore his red under-robe, but his armour was gone, as was his sword. His left arm hung in a splint, and a bandage wrapped around his gut beneath his robe. His wounds hurt when he touched them, and he felt the distinct, rigid bulges of suturing wire beneath the bandages. He didn¡¯t dare to take them off to check, though. His sword was gone. His powder flask was gone. He looked out the lattice window. As best he could tell, he was in a tiny shed up on the east slope of the valley. The village was where they had stopped. All along the slopes of the valley, swathes of mid-summer wheat grew between single-story wooden houses with thatched roofs. Horseheads poked out the eaves, and swirling, abstract reliefs had been carved into the sides of chimneys. Not a single building was more than a single storey tall. Myrrir limped along the inside wall of his shed until he reached a door. It slid open, and he stepped out onto a porch. It was morning, and the air was cool. A fog hung above a river at the bottom of the valley, but otherwise, the air was perfectly clear. Stolen novel; please report. Myrrir sucked in a deep breath, then dragged himself to the edge of the porch. There was a single guard outside, wearing a simple brown tunic and robe. As far as Myrrir knew, and from what Tye had said, most Moro-Ka had no spirit potential. He wasn¡¯t a God-heir, but he held a Jai in a thick scabbard. It had been chiselled out of lapis-blue stone¡ªMyrrir could see just a thin strip of the gemstone out the back of the scabbard, where the brass rings hung off it. ¡°Why am I still alive?¡± Myrrir demanded. The guard said nothing. He didn¡¯t even look at Myrrir. His shoulder-length black hair fluttered in the wind, unbound by a ponytail or knot. ¡°Where¡¯s Tye?¡± Myrrir snapped, walking out to the edge of the porch until he stood right next to the guard. ¡°Where¡¯s the man from the wagon? What did you do¡ª¡± The Moro-Ka struck Myrrir in the shoulder softly with the scabbard of his sword, then pointed ahead. ¡°Walk,¡± he said. Myrrir expected the man to lead the way, but the man didn¡¯t move. After a few seconds, the man said ¡°Walk¡± again. Myrrir took a step down off the porch onto a patch of groomed grass. A trail of packed mud led down through the village, and he¡¯d end up somewhere if he followed it. As soon as he took a single step, the Moro-Ka matched him. ¡°You¡¯re staying at the perfect range to cut me down in a single swipe,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°I know. I¡¯ve used one of those swords before. Well, I¡¯m unarmed, and I don¡¯t have mana. You don¡¯t have to worry.¡± The man said nothing. When Myrrir took another step, the man matched him. This was going to be torture. Myrrir rubbed his wrists. At least they had unbound his hands. He set off along the trail. On one side, a fence separated him from a garden, and on the other, an unprotected slope led down to a bundle of houses. When he reached an intersection, the guard tapped his shoulder again and pointed along the western-leading branch. He didn¡¯t complain when Myrrir set off along it, so it must have been correct. They passed by a fenced-off pasture of grazing horses. Myrrir limped along, half the pace of a mortal man walking, but he did his best to dodge the leftover puddles from the rain the night before. But it didn¡¯t matter when a trio of horses trotted along the path, bearing Moro-Ka in full armour. They splashed through the puddles, spattering Myrrir with muddy water. ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered. ¡°You couldn¡¯t¡ª¡± Before he could finish, a troop of teenagers on smaller horses trotted past. They all cast Myrrir dirty glares as they passed. One of the elder Moro-Ka stopped and turned about, then inserted himself between Myrrir and the teens as if to shield them from him. ¡°They were the ones splashing me¡­¡± Myrrir grumbled, but kept hobbling along. Soon, the horsemen passed out of sight. As he walked through the valley village, the trees grew thicker again. The trail curved down to the riverbed, then led along the uneven stones of the banks. A few times, it dipped out of sight entirely, and Myrrir had to hobble along the bare rocks. He slipped and fell, and his guard didn¡¯t help him up¡ªthe man only remained a few steps back, ready to cut Myrrir down in the blink of an eye. After a few minutes of walking along the riverbed, they arrived at an old cobblestone arch. It stretched across the river, and its foundations reached deep into each of the riverbeds. At the arch¡¯s center was a building that reminded him of a Frejkvir stave-church blended with a pagoda. It had pale wooden walls and thatched eaves that curled up at the tips. A deep, droning voice rumbled out of it, chanting foreign words that blended with the wind. ¡°Here?¡± Myrrir asked. His guard pointed at a set of stairs that ran up the edge of the archway. Myrrir took the steep stone steps slowly, nursing his leg. When he reached the top, he hobbled to the door of the pagoda-church. The door was already open, revealing an open, broad first floor. Monks in white robes swept the floor or stood at tables. The only light was a single fire, but with how many windows there were, it didn¡¯t need anything more. ¡°Your friend,¡± the guard said, pointing the hilt of his sword at the center of the pagoda. Two men sat side-by-side on the floor, dressed in plain, olive-green robes. One was completely bald, and he carried a ruby Jai at his hip. It was the God-heir from the woods. The other was Tye. Myrrir would recognize that gray ponytail and wrinkled skin anywhere. ¡°Tye!¡± Myrrir exclaimed, limping across the floor as fast as he could. ¡°Are you alright? ¡°It is good to see you awake again, Captain,¡± Tye said calmly. He had no guards around him. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°What happened to the bluecoats?¡± ¡°You know what happened to them.¡± The God-heir stood up. His eyes flickered blue, and sparks of lightning flashed across them. A son of Krur, God of Storms? Or perhaps a distant relative who still had enough spirit potential to cultivate Arcara? ¡°Why am I here?¡± Myrrir snapped, looking directly at the God-heir. Black specks whirled in front of his eyes, and an ache blazed across his forehead. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you kill me?¡± ¡°Take a seat,¡± the God-heir stated. He bowed to Myrrir¡¯s guard, then said something in their language. The guard nodded and turned away, then marched outside. ¡°I have already been introduced to your first officer. I am Nasyme, on the Path of The Seeing Flash. I know you are a God-heir.¡± Myrrir scowled. He didn¡¯t want to sit, but his legs ached, and if he passed out from dehydration, he didn¡¯t want to fall far. As soon as he took a seat, Tye passed him a clay cup of clear mountain water. He drank it in a single breath. Nasyme regarded him with a curious look. ¡°I have scanned your spirit. You are wanting.¡± ¡°Good. I know exactly what I want,¡± Myrrir snapped. ¡°If you¡¯re not going to kill me, when can I leave?¡± ¡°When you are healed.¡± ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± Myrrir rolled his eyes and placed his hands in his lap. ¡°I¡¯m not buying it. You wouldn¡¯t capture me if you were going to let me leave. You want something, too.¡± ¡°Of course I do,¡± Nasyme said. ¡°I spared you, Myrrir¡ª¡± ¡°So you do know my name. Tye told you?¡± ¡°¡ªbecause you carried a Jai.¡± ¡°I found it. It¡¯s none of your business.¡± Myrrir sighed. ¡°I¡¯d heal faster on my ship.¡± Nasyme kept talking, speaking overtop of Myrrir, ¡°That sword once belonged to someone dear to me. Tell me, God-heir: what happened to my grandson, and why do you have his sword?¡± Chapter 32: Shelter and Pagwart [Volume 3] Vayra jumped to the left to dodge a wave of falling debris, then scrambled back to the right so a toppling fern stalk didn¡¯t crush her. One of its thorns nearly impaled her flesh-and-blood leg, but she pulled it away just in time. She wove back and forth across the Kausisia platform, keeping her head down and her feet light. She didn¡¯t have enough mana to use the Astral Shroud, but with Larra busy, her own two legs could carry her just fine. Larra had thrown the torn leaf aside, but with Vayra well out of range and sight, the golems only had one target, and they would keep the God-heir busy. Vayra just needed a place to hide. She ducked around stems and under vines, looking for holes in the ground or small caves, but everything on the platform was solid. A thick frame of wood wrapped around the edge, and a few rigging ropes helped support it. There were vines that reached up to other platforms. She could climb, but Larra might see her. Besides, the other platforms were higher up, and she wasn¡¯t sure if they¡¯d have the kausisia. First, to stay out of sight and catch her breath, Vayra dove down behind a small mound of dirt. At least this way, she had some shelter. Larra first engaged the root-golems with the strength of a Captain. As Vayra understood it, that was her base-strength. She twirled her three-part staff back and forth, smashing chunks off the golems¡¯ legs and blasting them with jets of water. Her wolf ran in circles, snarling and nipping at the beasts¡¯ ankles. But then one of the golems struck Larra in the chest with a fist of roots. It flung her a few feet into the air. She fell flat on her stomach. Vayra watched closely, judging the weight of Larra¡¯s spirit the whole time. The God-heir ran her hand through her wolf¡¯s fur as she stood up, dusting herself off from the hit. The wolf snarled, revealing its fang¡ªsome sort of treasure¡ªand Larra¡¯s Arcara strength increased. She was exerting the pressure of a Commodore now. Her strikes came harder and faster. Her staff smashed clean through one of the golems¡¯ arms in a single swipe, and when she took a hit, she only skidded back a few feet. ¡°What exactly are the golems?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®They¡¯re¡­similar to the wraiths we found in the Muspellar Chambers,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Clumps of stray Arcara that accumulated bits of the physical world into their form. Talock fed them, cultivated them, and contracted them to protect his most valuable plants.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re losing to a Commodore,¡± Vayra breathed as Larra stabbed the blunt tip of her staff straight through a golem¡¯s chest. It didn¡¯t kill it, but it tore roots and dispersed some of the mud. ¡®They¡¯re designed to keep out thieves, not to kill a favoured daughter of Karmion. They¡¯re buying you time, so use it.¡¯ Vayra glanced around. She could retreat further to the edge of the platform, but that was hardly hiding. The platform was still massive, though. It was large enough to hold a few galleons atop it, stacked bow-to-stern. Vayra could keep away from Larra if she wanted¡ªso long as she got a bit of a lead and hid, and only sprinted between hiding spots when absolutely necessary. There might not have been any caves, but there were man-made shelters atop the platform. Near the edge of the dome, where the platform joined with the glass, a clump of sheds waited, covered in vines and fungus. Keeping her head low, Vayra navigated between the ferns and thorns. She veiled her spirit, for what good it would do, and only moved when Larra was facing away or when a spray of dirt washed up into the air, sheltering her from sight. When Vayra reached the shed, she pushed the door open and rushed inside. Its walls were simple layered wood, and there were only two windows. Maybe there¡¯d been glass in them once upon a time, but there wasn¡¯t any now. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it to hold it shut. She made sure to veil her spirit, then turned in a circle. The shed¡¯s interior should have been large enough to walk ten paces across, but it felt like there was barely enough room to stand. Barrels, kegs, and crates lined the walls, and a wooden irrigation channel ran through the center of the room at precisely head-level¡ªthe most inconvenient spot it could have been. It carried Stream water, refined to a slight degree, but with no spirit-imbued pollen in it. In other words: an excellent source of mana. She sprinted over and dipped her hands in it, slowly absorbing more mana. As Vayra absorbed the mana, the battle outside calmed down. Through the empty windows, and between a forest of ferns, she could faintly make out what was happening. Larra had destroyed one golem, and she was dismantling the second. The God-heir hadn¡¯t pushed herself past Commodore¡ªthe tingling in Vayra¡¯s neck hadn¡¯t gotten any stronger. Larra stomped and raised tendrils of freshwater out of the ground. She wrapped them around one of the golem¡¯s arms to hold it in place, then struck it with her staff. It lashed out with its free arm, but she blocked it. She shielded her arm with water, then smashed the arm off with a heavy overhead swing of her staff. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°I¡¯m seeing a Bracing technique to strengthen herself, a Ward technique to shield herself¡­and a Moulding technique for the tendrils?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Not Moulding. Water cannot Mould. The Arcara wouldn¡¯t firm up and hold it in place for long enough. It¡¯s probably just a Reach attack, manipulation of a substance, like your Starlight Palm.¡¯ Larra spun around, and with a shout loud enough to hurt Vayra¡¯s ears, smashed through the golem¡¯s head. As Larra whirled, Vayra ducked down beneath the shed¡¯s window frame to keep out of sight. ¡°She dealt with them,¡± Vayra whispered. She kept her breaths tight and controlled, and didn¡¯t let any mana move through her system. ¡°We¡¯re here, and we¡¯re not going anywhere unless we advance.¡± ¡®Aim for First Lieutenant.¡± ¡°If we cycle, she¡¯ll sense us.¡± ¡®If you keep talking, she¡¯ll hear you, too.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes, then dropped down and leaned back against the outer wall of the shed. She crawled back to the door and wedged her back up against it. We know Larra¡¯s arsenal, Vayra thought, directing the thoughts at Phason¨¦. We know her trick, assuming she hasn¡¯t¡­been hiding anything else in her corespace. What can we do to keep her from narrowing our location down? ¡®She isn¡¯t can¡¯t the wolf¡¯s treasure-tooth to improve her Arcara quality for long,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Whatever she¡¯s doing, it¡¯s not permanent¡ªor maybe she¡¯ll hurt herself if she holds it too long.¡¯ How do you know? Vayra thought. ¡®Why wouldn¡¯t she present herself as an admiral at all times if she could?¡¯ Surprise? ¡®She strikes you as one to favour surprises? Her ¡°ambush¡± on us in the foyer was barely that. She announced herself as soon as she could, and she marched in with that smug look plastered to her face¡ª¡¯ Vayra got the point. She nodded, then thought, And when she dips back below Commodore, she won¡¯t have as powerful of spiritual senses? She won¡¯t be able to pick us out when we start cycling? ¡®Precisely.¡¯ What about by the tingling sensation? Myrrir did it as a captain. ¡®And she¡¯s not Myrrir. He was a tracker, trained by his father to hunt.¡¯ Larra wasn¡¯t subtle. Right. Vayra waited until the tingling in her neck weakened. Instead of pinpricks, there was only a faint static, like popping bubbles. Larra had dropped back down to Captain. Talking aloud wasn¡¯t on the menu yet, but cycling was. Vayra thought: Do we have enough elixir in there to get ourselves to First Lieutenant? ¡®We should,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Just not enough to get us to Captain anymore.¡¯ Shutting her eyes, Vayra dragged herself into her corespace. She arrived on the barren dirt landscape and marched up to the central hill, where Phason¨¦, Adair, and the barrels of golden elixir waited. ¡°We need to plant a garden in here, right?¡± Vayra pressed her hands against her hips. She looked up at the ceiling of the dome. Instead of just a pure black sky, streaks of stars ran across it, and they made everything glimmer in a silver-white light. ¡°Or at least the impression of them.¡± ¡°Silver pagwart is my suggestion,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Don¡¯t know what that looks like.¡± ¡°Imagine those ferns outside, except the leaves are tiny. It¡¯s just groundcover, but it spreads over everything. Its leaves have tiny silver hairs, and only a wisp or two of green seeps through.¡± While Vayra absorbed and integrated elixir, bridging the gap between Second and First Lieutenant, she imagined lining the ground of the corespace with the plant Phason¨¦ had described. She doubted it was a perfect replica, but it didn¡¯t need to be. The silver leaves glittered and glinted under the swathes of starry sky, reflecting it all around the dome. Vayra never stayed in the corespace for more than ten seconds in a row, though. She needed her consciousness outside her body, in case Larra approached. The God-heir prowled around the platform, sweeping from left to right. She still held her three-part staff in one hand, and an orb of water swirled above her other hand. But by the time the sunset began and the greenhouse dimmed, Larra still hadn¡¯t reached the shed. She made a routine sweep, pushing away from the edge of the dome with each pace back and forth. Eventually, she would reach the shed¡ªand Vayra. How close are we to First Lieutenant? Vayra thought. ¡®A quarter of the way,¡¯ Phason¨¦ answered. ¡®We need to keep layering the plants in the corespace, and once we have enough Arcara, the advancement will begin¡ªwe¡¯ll seal it.¡¯ When the sun dipped entirely below the horizon, Larra stopped. She sat down at the center of the platform, unmoving, but still scanned back and forth with her eyes. The kausisia plants glimmered in the night, and pulsing veins of blue energy ran through their ferns. Whenever Vayra looked at them, she felt light-headed, and foreign whispers seeped through her mind. She couldn¡¯t make out any words. Then Larra patted her wolf¡¯s back and said something that Vayra couldn¡¯t make out. The God-heir¡¯s spirit surged, and the tingle in the back of Vayra¡¯s neck doubled. Vayra stopped cycling immediately. Larra climbed up to Commodore, and she was about to use her spiritual senses. Vayra veiled herself as quickly as she could, but it might not have been enough. After a few minutes, the tingle dimmed, and Larra dropped back to Captain. She stood up and grabbed her staff in both hands, then looked directly at the shed Vayra waited in. Vayra hadn¡¯t veiled herself quickly enough. If she stayed in the shed, she would be trapped. She nudged the door open, then crept out into the night. It was dark, and if she moved slowly, she could keep hidden behind dirt mounds until she reached another shed or building¡ªor some place to hide. A ray of moonlight crossed right in front of the door. She darted through it, trying to drop down between mounds of dirt, but the moonlight glinted off her mechanical arm¡ªthe starsteel wires beneath the wood panels reflected the moonlight. Larra¡¯s head snapped towards her. The God-heir leapt to her feet and charged. Chapter 33: Change [Volume 3] Vayra pushed her arms down and guided her Bracing technique through them. For a moment, she felt a burst of strength, then it morphed into the Astral Shroud and found its purpose in speed and agility. She tucked her head and darted across the platform. In seconds, she reached the outer edge of the platform. She teetered over it, but with the Shroud¡¯s agility, she quickly spun around and dropped to a crouch. Behind her, off the edge of the platform and on the floor of the greenhouse, was a ravine. The earth was cracking, and she doubted the dome¡¯s creator¡¯s had ever intended it; it was rough and non-uniform. Roots fed into it, bleeding out half-refined elixir and creating a flowing river. If Vayra fell, the river would drag her into some underground cavern. Larra used her bracing technique. She approached from one angle, moving slower than Vayra but not necessarily slowly. Her wolf approached from the other side. ¡°You¡¯ve trapped yourself!¡± Larra shouted. Veins of water wrapped around her voicebox; she Braced it to make her voice louder. The wolf only snarled. Vayra had already been spotted. There was no sense in trying to hide. She needed another distraction to buy time, then find another spot. ¡°What do you want?¡± Vayra asked. Then, she whispered, ¡°Phas, how¡¯s this kausisia plant supposed to work?¡± ¡®The liquid in its veins is a base for all mental elixirs. It will cause hallucinations if taken alone.¡¯ ¡°Drank?¡± ¡®Or its fumes inhaled.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m here for you, Mediator!¡± Larra shouted. ¡°That should have been obvious by now, yes?¡± She stopped off to Vayra¡¯s left, holding her staff in a ready stance. To Vayra¡¯s right, the wolf approached, snarling. It was getting a good whiff of her¡ªthat much was certain. If Larra couldn¡¯t track with magic, the wolf could track by scent. Vayra reached up and pulled on the nearest kausisia fern. It bent down in front of her, its tip large enough to shroud her. Just looking at it made her head swim, but she clenched her eyes. ¡®It works by targeting your channels first,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It softens them, and that¡¯s where its energy gets into you. It targets your mind through your spirit.¡¯ But Vayra could cleanse her channels faster than most people. She had a plan, but she needed to keep Larra busy. While she pulled the fern lower, she asked, ¡°What¡¯re you gonna get from this, though? Huh, water girl?¡± ¡°I desire what every God-heir desires!¡± Larra proclaimed indignantly. ¡°Honour, power, a destiny fulfilled, and¡ª¡± Before she could finish, Vayra blasted the center of the fern with a Starlight Palm. The leaf shattered, spattering turquoise elixir everywhere. It became a fine mist. Instinctively, Larra would cycle faster¡ªand that meant breathing faster. Most of the mist washed over Larra and the wolf. Larra stumbled back, clutching her eyes, then rubbing at them. The faster she breathed, the faster she rubbed. She swung her staff side-to-side wildly, swiping aimlessly at Vayra, and cast a water ward over her entire body. The wolf buried its snout in the dirt and pawed at its eyes. The elixir mist washed over Vayra as well, but less hit her. She shook her arms to fling it off her skin, but she had to breathe to maintain her Astral Shroud. A wisp of the mist writhed into her mouth and seeped into her channels. In an instant, her eyes clouded over. She dropped to her knees to keep herself stable. ¡®Keep breathing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You channels will cleanse faster than Larra¡¯s will. Stay calm.¡¯ A bank of dark cloud swirled in front of Vayra¡¯s vision. She tried closing her eyes, but that didn¡¯t make it go away. She cycled quickly, pushing mana and Arcara through all her channels. She pushed it everywhere she could¡ªno specific technique, only speed. The dark clouds of the vision lit up with orange flashes. Her mind ripped through the clouds, and when they parted, she thought she¡¯d emerge from the hallucination. Instead, it deposited her over an ecumenopolis. The towers of Thronehome collapsed, the streets burnt, and people scattered in fear. Orderly lines of Bluecoats marched through the streets, and field cannons boomed in the distance. Vayra slowed her breathing, trying to keep herself calm. Just a vision. This is what happens if you fail. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. She focussed on willpower to bend her mana as she desired. I¡­I can¡¯t worry about that. Her heart dropped. She didn¡¯t care? I don¡¯t know anyone on Thronehome. She had promised King Tallerion that she was on his side. That she wanted to destroy Karmion¡¯s empire and restore the Kingdom of Velaydia. But why? The vision shifted. Clouds of black smoke wafted across her vision. She had seen scenes of Thronehome burning before. She had seen Tavelle burning, and it hadn¡¯t given her the Mediator Form. Why would anything be different now? This time, when the clouds parted, she stared at the tall cliffs and grasslands of Kallo VI. Only now, they burned. Dirty workers cleared scrubland and tossed it into great firepits. They chopped distant copses of trees and built smoke-belching megastructures that filled the air with an acrid stink and turned the sky orange. Miners tore the cliffs apart, ripping out iron and smelting it into steel for weapons. The sun itself dimmed. There will be nothing left to explore. Cities are not the only things that can burn. Like rain off a roof, the vision washed away. Her mana pushed up to her head and cleared the channels in her mind, sweeping away the kausisia mist. Vayra was once again on her knees in front of Larra and the wolf. Only seconds had passed, and her enemies still hallucinated. The Astral Shroud still shimmered around Vayra. Vayra ducked between Larra and the wolf, sidestepping the God-heir¡¯s whirling staff. She considered trying to end the now, to conjure the scythe and attack, but even if Vayra could get close, Larra had encased herself in a watery Ward technique. Vayra didn¡¯t have time or the ability to break down the shield. Before she sprinted away, Vayra tossed more dirt onto the wolf¡¯s muzzle. It was as close as she could get without the beast snapping her fingers off or clawing her, and hopefully it would help clog the beast¡¯s nostrils. She sprinted to the other side of the platform. There was a larger shed here, as well as a two-storey groundsman¡¯s house, but Vayra had a chance to get higher. She¡¯d take it. ¡°Phas, we¡¯ve seen what the kausisia was going to show us, right?¡± ¡®Unless the ways of the universe change, that¡¯s what it predicts for you¡ªreading the Stream water. I doubt that will change for a little while.¡¯ ¡°So we¡¯re doomed.¡± ¡®Just get out of here alive. Then we can worry about your doom.¡¯ She looked up at the next highest platform. A curtain of vines hung down. She chose one and climbed, using the Astral Shroud to pull herself up as fast as a monkey scampering up a wall. When she reached the next platform, she dropped the Astral Shroud and peered over the edge. Her mechanical limbs stung and her lungs ached, and she wanted nothing more than to rest. ¡°Phas¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°What if I don¡¯t like who I am?¡± ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ ¡°I want to want to save them. I want to help. I want to do my best, but something¡¯s holding me back. How can I be the Mediator like this?¡± ¡®Vayra, the kausisia only sees who you are. And guess what?¡¯ ¡°Some things can¡¯t change.¡± Vayra lifted her arms, holding them up to the moonlight. ¡°No amount of magic will make me the strongest, most powerful person, or¡ª¡± ¡®But some things can change. Sure, you may not beat Larra in an arm-wrestle, but are you going to let that stop you from doing everything else?¡¯ Phason¨¦ radiated a feeling of warmth, almost like she was hugging Vayra from the inside-out. ¡®There are other kinds of strength.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re right, like always,¡± Vayra whispered, backing away from the edge of the platform. ¡°We have a lot of ground to cover before we reach First Lieutenant.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t sleep that night at all. She searched the next platform for any sort of shelter. The platform was about the same size as the one below it, only this time, vines and oak trees (or at least, what seemed to be) covered it. They formed orderly rows, but they hadn¡¯t been trimmed in decades and there were enough stray branches to make it impossible to see from one side of the platform to the other. She found a small complex of old workers¡¯ houses, and she ducked into the central one. Its brick walls felt comforting, and a few of the windows were still intact. The roof had rotted away long ago, but Larra wouldn¡¯t be coming from above. For the rest of the night, Vayra continued to work on her advancement to First Lieutenant. Whenever Larra¡¯s spirit flared, Vayra veiled herself. With any luck, Larra wouldn¡¯t even know that Vayra had climbed up to a higher platform. She finished one barrel of elixir that night. The next day, between veiling and unveiling herself, she finished one more barrel. The exhaustion started to set in, and Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost kept watch while she rested for a few hours¡ªwith her spirit veiled, of course. As she processed the enormous amounts of elixir, she continued developing her corespace. Once she had spread silver leaves over the entire ground, she began to add reeds and stalks of taller grass around the pond¡ªsomething natural, like a garden meant to be viewed in the moonlight. All across the rest of the hill and land, she placed pale blue and yellow flowers. Alone, they didn¡¯t make much of a difference, but in clumps, they changed the core entirely. Viewed from the outside, specks of blue and yellow pierced the bands of white light swirling around the core, filling them with a more natural nighttime glow. Something closer to stars. On the third day, she finished the last barrel of elixir. She cast two of the empty barrels out to lighten her corespace, then filled another with a creek of Stream water just outside the house. She¡¯d need the mana more. When she was outside the house, her core advanced. First, she emptied everything from the core¡ªshe didn¡¯t know what would happen if she was storing Adair and a few barrels in it while she advanced, and she didn¡¯t want to find out. Then, like the advancement from Third Lieutenant to Second, she pushed waves of mana through it, locking the changes in place. When she finished the advancement, she bolted upright. Phason¨¦ had manifested as a ghost, and she was shaking Vayra¡¯s shoulders. Adair had scrambled up onto her chest and was nipping her chin. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Larra,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°She climbed up, and I think she sensed your advancement.¡± Vayra jumped up to her feet. She absorbed the barrel of Stream water back into her corespace, then raised her hands. ¡°We need to keep¡ª¡± A brick wall shattered just to her left, and Larra plowed through shoulder-first. She held her staff ahead of her. ¡°There you are!¡± Chapter 34: Riftbeast ¡°We will keep watch outside,¡± Nathariel said to Glade. ¡°Outside? You are¡­not coming with me?¡± Glade asked, looking hesitantly at the rift. When he stepped inside, time inside would start moving faster. Or¡­it¡¯d start moving slower outside, there was a difference. ¡°The more people who go in, the less stable it becomes. You¡¯ll have less time inside the rift.¡± Nathariel tapped Glade¡¯s chest with his finger. ¡°You know everything about the Master stages. I will tap the roots for a base spiritual elixir, but it will be up to you to cycle it and push yourself to the peak of Master.¡± ¡°How long will I have?¡± ¡°Inside, I estimate that it¡¯ll feel like four weeks before the pocket realm collapses. Outside, only a few days will pass.¡± ¡°What happens if I am inside when it collapses?¡± ¡°If you know what¡¯s good for you,¡± Nathariel said, ¡°you won¡¯t be.¡± That was enough of an answer. Glade stepped along the surface of the conk, then reached out and stuck his hand through the rift. Aside from a few faint shivers running down his skin, it didn¡¯t feel any different. He patted himself down, making sure he had everything. He didn¡¯t have a haversack of his own, but they had taken two empty kegs from the maintenance platform. He had filled one with food and freshwater flasks from Nathariel¡¯s voidhorn, then they filled the other with elixir from the root. They had drilled a small hole into the root and tapped it like syrup from a tree. It wasn¡¯t as perfect or refined as the well water, but it would be enough to keep Glade going. ¡°Stay close to the entrance,¡± Nathariel instructed. ¡°Place the barrels down, set up a camp, and work hard.¡± Glade nodded. He pushed the first two kegs through the rift and set them down on the ground, then accepted a third cask from Nathariel¡ªa barrel of concentration-aiding elixir. He offered a short bow to Nathariel, then another to Pels, who stood on the distant maintenance platform. Then he stepped through the rift. The air around him warped. It was like trying to enter a lens, but just slightly too curvy, and scratched all over. He turned his shoulder and pushed harder. After a few seconds, he tumbled through the rift with a pop. He landed on the barren sand inside on his stomach, then rolled over onto his back. The ground was plain white sand. It was almost perfectly flat, save for a few ripples here and there. The sky was black, and there were no stars or moons to cast any light around. Somehow, when he looked down at his arms, a dim glow lit them, like he was standing next to a guttering lantern. He spun around to face the rift. It looked the exact same from the inside, except it hovered in the middle of the empty plane. Nathariel still stood on the other side, but the man moved comically slowly¡ªit almost hurt to watch. So Glade didn¡¯t watch. He turned away and got to work. Glade had no way of telling the time inside the pocket realm, and he tried to avoid looking out the rift as much as he could¡ªit just made his head swim and his stomach sink. Whenever he felt tired, he used the concentration-aiding mind elixir. He kept a constant flow of elixir in his system, and he never let a cycle go to waste; he was always purifying something. Nathariel and Pels seemed to be working as fast as they could to refill his base elixirs. As he cycled, he practiced conjuring a seer-core. He would need one eventually¡ªhe didn¡¯t have a Goddess in his head to tell him how much mana he had left. Over the past few weeks, he had been gathering metal filings and sharp shavings into a pouch. It hung from his hip just beside his sword. Inside the pocket realm, whenever he took a break from cycling to let himself rest and catch his breath, he sharpened and polished his sword. When sparks or debris or shavings fell off, he dropped into the little leather pouch. By now, he hoped he had enough sword-like objects to form a seer-core with. He had studied for this. It was a Reach technique, technically, which required him to reach out with tendrils of Arcara, forming an aura around his body, and look for objects within his realm of influence. His sword was the most obvious. He threw it a few feet away from him so it wouldn¡¯t interfere. He focussed on the metal filings. They rose out of his pouch in a thin line, then swirled into a cyclone above his hand. The sword-Arcara manifested along each of their tiny edges, letting off a soft shhhing. He tried to compress it into a ball with his mind, but instead, it flashed out in front of him like a whip of tiny swords. It struck the sand, kicking up a wave of debris and shredding the grains into dust. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He pulled the filings back, but he pulled too hard. It tore his sleeve and slashed up the skin of his arm, leaving thousands of tiny cuts. He clenched his jaw. The sting made everything clearer. Arcara was about intent. He didn¡¯t intend to attack; he intended to make a seer-core appear. Imagining his own core and his basic Arcara system, he concentrated on the ways it had developed under Nathariel. He took a calm breath, and when he looked down at his bloodied hand, the filings had swirled up into a faint sphere above his fingers. He picked out the storms of slightly darker shavings¡ªhis Arcara and mana supplies. The Arcara covered about a third of the orb¡¯s southern hemisphere, and the mana was a stable, coin-sized cyclone. He was on his way to Master. He guided the filings gently into his pouch again, then sealed it up. They weren¡¯t exactly easy to come by, and he couldn¡¯t go losing them. Then, he reached out towards his sword. It was about ten feet away, but it had a blade. Maybe he could control it a little, the same way he had with the shavings: with a Reach technique. He sent tendrils of invisible Arcara out towards it, trying to grasp onto it and draw it closer. The sword vibrated, then shifted a half-inch through the sand. Glade fell to his knees, panting. A little too much, a little too fast. The sword was too large. He walked over and picked it up. As he stood back up, his gaze shifted along the empty sandy plane. In the distance, on the perfectly flat horizon and silhouetted against the gray haze, a speck trundled across the waste. A plume of dust rose behind it. He scrunched his eyebrows and blinked. There was something else out here? With a flick, he tucked his sword back into its sheath, but his hand hovered over the hilt. The thing approached. The closer it got, the more of it Glade could make out. It was about the size of a horse, and it had four legs. It used them all to run, but it didn¡¯t gallop¡ªmore like a gorilla hauling itself along really quickly. As soon as Glade registered it wasn¡¯t human, he drew his sword again. Its sinewy skin was a dark shade of red, and it bulged like it had ropes beneath it. If it had fur, Glade didn¡¯t see any, but a mane of horns ran along the back of its elongated head. A steel collar clung to its neck. Somebody lost a pet. It prowled towards him, snarling. Tar dripped out of its mouth like saliva, and its eyes shone with yellow light. Before he could try to scan its spirit, it pounced, doubling its speed. With a single swipe, it swatted him away from the rift. Short claws clung to its feet, and they ripped the lapels of his coat off entirely. He tumbled back along the sand. It took all his concentration just to keep holding onto his sword. Jumping to his feet, he flourished his blade. The beast stood between him and the rift, snarling and gnashing its jaw. Its breath reeked of rotting meat. At first, Glade had hoped it would be more interested in the elixirs and supplies than him, but it was probably just hungry, and elixirs wouldn¡¯t fix that. The beast charged before Glade could come up with an attack plan. He sidestepped, his instincts reacting for him. The beast¡¯s claws raked past inches from his face, swooping through the empty air. As soon as the claws passed, he slashed down at the creature¡¯s flank. His bare sword glanced off the flesh like he had just tried to cut a rock. Again, he tried to concentrate long enough to scan the creature¡¯s spirit, to see if he could determine how strong it was. The beast whirled around and lunged at him before he could even reach out with his spiritual sight. Its jaws raced towards his neck, and its teeth snapped together with such force that it sounded like someone had fired a musket. He fell back into the sand and rolled away. He leapt to his feet and swiped at it. Thrice more, his blade glanced off its skin harmlessly. He couldn¡¯t find the usual weak points of a beast¡ªits shoulders, its stomach, its mouth. He was about to try scanning its spirit again, but he stopped. It was just a waste of time, and though his clinical mind demanded it of him, he didn¡¯t need to know how strong the beast was. He just needed to kill it. He ran his hand along the flat of his sword, strengthening the tip of the blade with a knife-thin strand of Arcara. The intent was to cut, and sword-Arcara wanted to slice anything. Vayra¡¯s scythe used heat to burn through what it tried to cut. That was brute force. He was more elegant than that. His techniques split matter in two. He ducked under a claw slash, and as he stepped to the side, he dragged his sword across the beast¡¯s chest. It bit into the flesh and cut through, leaving a shallow wound. Black tar sprayed out. He whirled his sword behind him as he spun away, leaving another few cuts along the beast¡¯s arms before falling to a crouch. His line of Arcara started to slip off the blade, but he raised a thumb up and pressed it against the exposed crossguard of his sword. His Dawnsteel body went to work, connecting him with the blade and refilling his intent to cut. He sprinted forwards, finally on the offensive, and drove the sword straight into the beast¡¯s chest. It snapped at him with its jaw, but he called his metal filings out of his pouch and struck the beast under the chin with an uppercut of tiny razors. Howling, the beast stumbled backwards, but Glace chased it to the ground. He kept his blade in place and twisted until the beast stopped howling. Panting, he stumbled back. Black tar coated him. He flicked his sword off and sheathed it, then called his metal filings back to the pouch. As fast as he could, he sprinted back to the rift and pushed through. ¡°Nathariel! Did you see that?¡± He staggered out onto the conk, relishing in the fresh, warm air. ¡°It passed in a flash,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°There was a monster. A beast of some kind¡­¡± He described it to Nathariel as best he could. ¡°Why was that in a pocket realm?¡± Nathariel sighed. ¡°This place has massive spiritual power. The pocket realm that these unnatural forces have created will only fade as the facility itself fades. Openings will only appear in certain places. It is the consequence of Gods operating in a realm they shouldn¡¯t be in. That beast was probably once a nymph, sucked in at some other location and twisted by apparent centuries in the void. Her mind decayed, if she ever had one to begin with.¡± He leaned to the side, peering around the corner of the rift just a touch to glimpse the body of the beast. ¡°There is a spot of good news. That¡­flesh has experienced rift-centuries worth of use and refinement, and its spiritual weight is immense. It will help tune your new body to its purpose.¡± Glade gulped. ¡°The things I do for advancement¡­¡± He shuddered at the thought of eating any of the beast¡¯s corpse, but if it would help him at all, then he had to try. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Now, go back in there, and get yourself to Master. Before any more of those things find you.¡± Chapter 35: Village Keeper [Volume 3] Myrrir had stormed out of the church-pagoda on the bridge as soon as the God-heir had confronted him about his sword, and he hadn¡¯t been back since. Over the next few days, Myrrir¡¯s physical body began to heal. His muscles were knitting back together, and everything stopped aching. He spent his days holed up inside the shed, or taking small walks across the valley with his assigned guard close behind. Tye lingered at a distance, and often, Myrrir spotted the man standing side-by-side with the God-heir¡ªNasyme. Something had gotten into Tye, that much was certain. But at least he looked like he belonged in the Moro-ka village, with his robes and free-flowing long hair. Myrrir, with his Stellacovan glass hair and fair skin¡­he couldn¡¯t have fit in any less. Whenever he wandered around the village, the villagers stared at him. Mothers ushered their children inside at the sight, and horsemen scowled at him. On the fourth evening since he arrived, he had found a trail up the side of the valley, a little higher than his shed. His guard followed him, maintaining his constant, oppressive slight distance. Once he had a view of the entire village, Myrrir sat down in the grass beside the path, trying to ignore the guard¡¯s long shadow. Distant riders trotted to and fro. Footmen trained with spears, mastering precise jabs and lunges, and a spattering of musketeers trained in disorderly rows. They didn¡¯t ever fire a shot¡ªgunpowder was probably incredibly rare out here, and training with it would be a waste. Just beside them, a crowd of Moro-ka in-training always spent their evenings practicing. They trained with wooden Jai swords, swinging at the empty air for hours upon end. It was dedication, at the very least, and he allowed himself to admire it¡ªeven if they didn¡¯t have any magic or spiritual potential. He shut his eyes in frustration. He hadn¡¯t come in contact with any Stream water during his time in the mountains, either, and he was no better than them. A little tougher skin, maybe. A drop of Stream water, a drop of mana, and he¡¯d annihilate them, but until then, he had nothing. Gravel crunched beside him. Myrrir¡¯s eyes shot open. On instinct, he reached for his hip (his sword was still gone) and tried to cycle his Arcara (his spirit did nothing). But it was just Tye. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Myrrir snapped. ¡°You brought me here on purpose? To your old homeworld, so you could get buddy-buddy with the people of this village? They captured us. Was that part of your plan, too?¡± Tye silently sat down beside Myrrir, flicking his new olive-green robe out behind him. ¡°I am trying to negotiate your release, Captain. Please do not make this worse than it has to be.¡± ¡°Negotiate?¡± Myrrir exclaimed in disbelief. As soon as he raised his voice, the guard took a step towards him, hand on the hilt of his sword. Tye raised a hand to him. The guard dipped his head and took a step back. ¡°Nasyme wanted to kill you as soon as you told him what happened to his grandson. I negotiated a less severe punishment¡ªexile. Which doesn¡¯t matter much to you; you never planned to return here, yes?¡± Tye paused, then said, ¡°And no, this was not part of my plan. I only wanted to help you achieve what you wanted. I have never been to this village in my life.¡± ¡°Great. Wonderful. So¡­his grandson¡­?¡± ¡°The Hyovao¡¯s old captain.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Myrrir nodded. The Hyovao¡¯s captain might have been a very minor God-heir, but he certainly hadn¡¯t gotten powerful enough to stop himself from aging¡ªor to defeat Myrrir. But Nasyme had gotten to Captain, which was enough to extend his life a long while, and make him appear younger than many of his children. ¡°What am I waiting for, then?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°I¡¯ll tell him what he wants to know, then leave.¡± ¡°There is a mild problem. One of the bluecoats in the convoy escaped, and he went telling stories about a powerful God-heir running rogue right under their noses. Whether it was you or Nasyme he was worried about doesn¡¯t matter. They mustered five First Lieutenant stage God-heirs from the surrounding sectors, which was the best they could gather given the circumstances. These God-heirs are entirely loyal to the Elderworlds and Karmion.¡± Myrrir shut his eyes and groaned. ¡°We go back to the port, they find us. Either they know it''s me and attack¡ªI¡¯ve failed enough times¡ªor they think I¡¯m the rogue God-heir and attack.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t fend off five at once, not in your state.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°At least something¡¯s getting through your thick skull.¡± Myrrir crossed his arms, then glanced warily up at the guard. But it didn¡¯t seem like the guard spoke much of the Galactic common tongue. He was probably safe. ¡°The Elderworld army and Commander Neule are going to attack this place in a month. They¡¯ll take their God-heirs with them, and we¡¯ll escape in the chaos.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Tye nodded, and smiled as though he was happy Myrrir was finally catching on. ¡°If you tell Nasyme what he wants right away, and linger until the battle, they will be suspicious. I hate to say this, but you must be uncooperative.¡± Myrrir scrunched his lips together and sighed. ¡°I¡¯m good at that.¡± ¡°Very much so, Captain,¡± Tye said. ¡°But while you are waiting, you should make the best use of your time. You have a spirit to repair.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Your channels are damaged, yes?¡± Tye asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°The spirit, soul, and body are all one system. Your soul doesn¡¯t need mana any more than your base muscles do.¡± ¡°How does that help? My soul and body aren''t having problems.¡± ¡°Your channels can¡¯t fix the damage done to them unless everything else is fixed, too. Everything is intertwined. I don¡¯t imagine your spirit will be willing to start healing if your soul is still aching.¡± ¡°My soul is fine.¡± Tye made a skeptical face, then inched away. ¡°Just¡­remember this conversation, yes?¡± ¡°Yes, Tye, I¡¯ll remember it.¡± Every morning after, Myrrir¡¯s guard summoned him to the pagoda bridge, where Nasyme always awaited him. ¡°Tell me the story of my grandson,¡± Nasyme always commanded. ¡°For he was dear to me.¡± ¡°What makes you think I know?¡± Myrrir tried. It didn¡¯t work. He had carried the grandson¡¯s sword. ¡°Why do you care so much?¡± Nope, didn¡¯t work either. ¡°I hear he wasn¡¯t very nice. Do you still want to know?¡± Yes, Nasyme still wanted to know, no matter what horrible acts his grandson had committed. Nasyme resorted to asking more subtle questions to Myrrir: ¡°What was it like growing up as the favoured son of a God? It must have been rewarding; it took me four hundred years to reach captain, and I hear you did it in around half that¡­¡± ¡°Two-hundred and fifty.¡± ¡°How often did your father visit you? Before the war began and the Gods descended, I mean.¡± ¡°Before? A few times.¡± Nilsenir only ventured down to the mortal realm once every few years, as the previous Mediators permitted. ¡°What are the extents of the authority of Piracy? It must be broad¡­¡± ¡°There are many Paths.¡± Gunpowder was only one, though most of Nilsenir¡¯s children had some control over it. ¡°Do your injuries extend to your mouth as well?¡± That, Myrrir figured, was a joke. He answered, ¡°My betters taught me decorum.¡± Nasyme rolled his eyes. ¡°I would offer wisdom, but I imagine your ears are closed to it.¡± ¡°The wisdom of God-heirs doesn¡¯t count for much.¡± At that, Nasyme snorted. ¡°You included,¡± Myrrir continued. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you hope to accomplish with your little rebellion, but today, or in a decade, the Elderworlds will crush you. It is the only way Karmion deals. Well, now he knows that there¡¯s a God-heir here with high spirit potential, and a Captain, at that. You won¡¯t even get to torment another convoy.¡± ¡°Still upset about the convoy? They were bluecoats; barely sapient.¡± ¡°What does that little lightning-fried mind of yours think you can accomplish? What do you want?¡± Nasyme smirked. ¡°If I tell you, then you have to return the favour. What do you want?¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Myrrir spat. ¡°A free planet. It is simple. No overlords, no bluecoats, no colonial offices. Only fields and hills for our horses to roam.¡± ¡°That¡¯s hopelessly na?ve.¡± ¡°I am aware, but I can¡¯t change my dream.¡± Nasyme crossed his arms. ¡°And you? Why have you been roaming the galaxy, hunting down a half-phoenix?¡± ¡°My father told me to.¡± Myrrir squinted. Tye must have told the man a lot. ¡°So¡­you have been hunting the most powerful¡ª¡± ¡°Most potential power.¡± ¡°¡ªperson in the galaxy, hoping to trap her somehow, because your father¡ªwho has now disowned you¡ªtold you to?¡± Myrrir tightened his hands into fists. ¡°So he will pass the godly authority onto me when he dies!¡± ¡°Ah, there it is.¡± Nasyme and Myrrir stared at each other for a few seconds, looking straight into one another¡¯s eyes. Finally, Nasyme leaned back and shook his head. ¡°Tell me what happened to my grandson.¡± Myrrir didn¡¯t. It was going to be a long month. ¡°Ah, the sweet smell of¡­wheat. And more wheat! How much did this guy need? By the Stream, it¡¯s no wonder Karmion didn¡¯t see a use for Talock¡­¡± Wren marched down the main thoroughfare of the tent village on Harvest Sanctuary¡¯s Stream-facing shore, hunting for anyone who looked like they knew anything. But the only useful thing she saw was wheat. It grew between the tents, or had been packed down by hundreds of horses and thousands of walking people. Most of the people in the village were mortals, all looking to push some sort of service or another to the God-heirs who had flocked to the planet. She tuned their chatter out. Her moth wings folded behind her like a cloak, swaying in the faint breeze, and her fur collar rustled. At the end of the thoroughfare, though, was possibly the most legitimate of all the services: a pub. It was a round, half-fabric-half-wood structure about two-storeys tall, with a plain white tarp for a roof. A sign stood outside the entrance, but she couldn¡¯t be bothered to read it as she ducked through the tent¡¯s opening. Smoke wafted out the entrance, but inside, everything was hazy. A bunch of sailors sat in a corner, but there were a few God-heirs here¡ªshe could feel the tingle of their presence in the back of her neck. One of them had to know something about a ship covered in golden ornaments¡ªthe Harmony. Or maybe they¡¯d seen pale white flashes of starlight. Or better yet, perhaps they had heard about a God-heir who wielded flame. Chapter 36: Together [Volume 3] ¡°There you are.¡± Larra smashed through a nearby wall. The bricks of the old housing complex crumbled away, and she marched through, setting sun shining behind her. ¡°Ah, fancy seeing you here¡­¡± Vayra said, backing away from the smashed hole. She whispered, ¡°Phas, get back inside me.¡± She lifted Adair up, then pulled him back inside the corespace as well, then drew the empty barrels back in. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost dissolved, streaks of white light streaming back towards Vayra. She and Phason¨¦ weren¡¯t ready to fight yet, and they knew it. They might be strong enough to escape, but if they were going to defeat Larra, they needed to reach Captain. She backed away, looking for a way out. She could run around a bit, try to lead Larra off the chase, then keep moving. But Larra was currently exerting a pressure of Vayra much higher than Captain. She lunged forward and struck Vayra in the chest with an open palm. Vayra shielded her chest to protect her ribs, but the force of the blow still knocked her back. She pushed a shield into her cloak as she smashed through the wall behind her and slid through the mud outside. ¡®That was one way out,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Watch¡ª¡¯ Before she finished her warning, Larra¡¯s wolf darted in from the side, leading with its jaws. It bit down on Vayra¡¯s left arm, her flesh-and-blood arm, and kept running, dragging her through the dirt. Yelling, Vayra struck the beast in the neck with Starlight Palms until its jaw unclamped. She rolled to a stop in the dirt and jumped to her feet. The wolf had dragged her all the way to the edge of the platform¡ªit was only three or four paces behind her. The rogue channel of Stream water rushed by below. This new, higher platform lingered just overtop of it, threatening to drop her down at any moment. She Braced her legs, preparing to turn the basic technique into the Astral Shroud, but Larra sped towards her. The God-heir slammed her three-part staff into the ground before Vayra could finish the full technique. If Vayra hadn¡¯t leapt to the side, the staff would have smashed through her shoulder. Larra snapped, ¡°Don¡¯t ever hurt Gnasher again!¡± Vayra tried to duck around Larra, to navigate away from the edge of the platform. Her Bracing technique crept up her hips, and it had almost expanded enough that she could push it into the Astral Shroud. But Larra¡¯s arm snapped down. She caught Vayra around the neck. One of the God-heir¡¯s large hands clenched around her windpipe. ¡°That won¡¯t work again,¡± Larra sneered, hoisting Vayra a half-foot off the ground. Vayra flailed, striking Larra¡¯s arm and trying to land a kick. It didn¡¯t work. The edges of her vision dimmed, and she reached for Larra¡¯s fingers instead, trying to pry them away one at a time. She dropped the Bracing from her legs and instead focussed on her arms. It didn¡¯t work. Larra tightened her grip. Just before Vayra¡¯s vision blackened entirely, Larra threw her to the ground. She landed hard on her back, coughing, and slid to the edge of the platform. Her head hit the wooden frame. She gasped, breathing erratically and breaking her cycling pattern. All of her techniques dropped. Larra still couldn¡¯t kill her. ¡°And this is the galaxy¡¯s saviour, huh?¡± Larra said. She bent down and ran a hand through her wolf¡¯s fur. ¡°A fragile, weak little thing who trembles before the might of a proper God-heir? Did you even get an enhanced body?¡± Vayra rolled over onto her stomach, rubbing her throat. Larra planted a foot down on Vayra¡¯s ankle. ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere. I¡¯ll put this staff through your shoulder and pin you to the ground if I have to.¡± ¡°You¡­need me¡­¡± Vayra grunted. ¡°Alive? Yes. But Father can come to us, I think.¡± She reached into one of her coat pockets and retrieved a wriggling pouch of Stream water. A messenger fish. ¡°You¡¯ll stay right here, in my custody, for the month it takes Karmion to arrive.¡± Phas, I have an idea, Vayra thought. ¡®What is it?¡¯ the Goddess replied, her voice booming around Vayra¡¯s head. How long does it take for your ghost to manifest? ¡®Whatever you¡¯re thinking, we don''t have time. It¡¯ll take about three seconds.¡¯ Larra would see the ghost before Vayra could do anything. ¡°Got nothing to say for yourself?¡± Larra scoffed. ¡°Ah, what am I thinking? A miserable, scrawny Discarded could never have stood against us.¡± Her wolf snarled in agreement. ¡®If I had a source of starlight-Arcara, I could manifest faster,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, reading Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®Then we could carry out your plan.¡¯ You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. The seer-core would have to do the trick. Vayra held her hand under her stomach, hopefully shielding it from Larra¡¯s sight, and drew out starlight from her scarf. It mixed together with her Arcara in the seer-core. Is that enough? she thought, directing the intent at Phason¨¦. ¡®It should be.¡¯ Vayra rolled over onto her back as fast as she could, and she released the seer-core. In a heartbeat, the starlight-Arcara snapped into position, forming the outline of Phason¨¦. Vayra immediately grasped the Goddess¡¯ wrist, feeding her a wisp of mana. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost formed a fist. She reached out and punched Larra in the chest. Her fist snapped through the air faster than a musket shot. When it hit Larra¡¯s chest, the air snapped and cracked, and a gust of wind washed over them both. Larra shielded her chest with water, but she still skidded back a few feet. The messenger fish tumbled out of her hand and onto the ground. It was just enough of a reprieve. Before Vayra could convince herself not to, she sprang off the edge of the platform. At first, she flailed her arms. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost disintegrated and rushed back inside her. They both plummeted, and there was no way the river was deep enough to catch them¡ªand that was if their bodies didn¡¯t break apart from the surface impact alone. But it was the same sensation as sending her consciousness to the corespace. She relaxed, retook control, and spread her limbs out, slowing herself as much as she could as she fell. She needed to protect herself from the impact. A shield would do the trick. She couldn¡¯t Ward her own flesh yet, but she could protect her clothes and the air around her. As she fell, she wove a basket of white light in the air beneath her, building a shield. At the last moment, she tucked her legs and arms up and scrunched into a ball. When she hit the water, the shield absorbed the impact. She blasted down through a few feet of water and straight to the muddy riverbed, and the shield absorbed the second impact too. The water tumbled and tossed her, and it swept her along without much care. It was moving faster than it looked from the top of the platform. The roots started at the edge of the greenhouse, pouring out their elixirs¡ªwhich seemed counterproductive for roots, but these were just broken transport tubers. It fed down a channel. There were a few rocks along the riverbed, which tossed the water around. A stone struck Vayra in the shoulder, and another impact knocked a panel off her mechanical leg. At a set of rapids, she latched onto a rock and pulled her head up above the water, gasping for air. She didn¡¯t have long. The rocks were slippery, and her fingers were already slipping. With the few seconds she had, she took stock of her surroundings. All around, the walls of the river valley closed in. Half of the channel had rigid, terraformed slopes, but years of rushing water had eroded the lower basin until it was smooth. Ahead, the river dipped down into an underground cavern. ¡°We need to get out!¡± Vayra yelled, trying to scramble higher up on the boulders to keep herself from falling back down along the river. One of her arms slipped, but no matter how hard she tried to pull it back the other direction and haul herself up, the water resisted her. ¡°Larra can control water! She¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡®She controls freshwater, not half-refined elixir,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Then she¡¯s coming for us!¡± ¡®She¡¯d be just as foolish to drop herself in the river!¡¯ ¡°You said it was a good plan!¡± ¡®I thought the part where I punched Larra really hard was a good plan!¡¯ ¡°What happened to reading my mind? Oh, this¡­is going nowhere!¡± Vayra tried to look over her shoulder, to see where the river would take her, but her fingers slipped off the rock, and the current carried her away. She shielded her head with her hands. Every time she felt the bottom of the river, she kicked off and pushed herself up, grasping a breath before the water tugged her back down. The iridescent mixture of half-refined elixir washed around her. She couldn¡¯t see much underwater except a blur, but when the river dipped underground, she couldn¡¯t see anything¡ªbarring the faint glow of the water itself. Then everything fell out from underneath her. She tumbled off a ledge and down a waterfall, then straight into a deep, rocky pool. With a kick, she launched herself away from the swirling basin of the waterfall and out into the center of the pool, where the water was calmer. Once she was In the center, she swam to the surface, treading water to keep her head up. Between the glow of the water and a few beams of light, it was bright enough to see a few yards in every direction. The walls were rigid stone, with rocky shelves at even intervals. There were a few holes that led all the way back to the surface, and pollen from a flower forest above trickled in through them. The elixir was turning thicker and more golden. There was only one waterfall pouring into the basin, but a few other rivers trickled away, running deep underground. When it exited the pond, it was mostly golden. It¡¯d flow off into the ground, leaking into the soil and feeding the plants, which would further refine it as it ran downhill. Vayra swam over to the lowest stoney shelf and hauled herself up onto the shore, then flopped onto her back. She should have felt some boost for advancing to First Lieutenant, but right now, all she could register was exhaustion. But she needed to get climbing. She needed to get out of this cavern. ¡®Vayra, we need to rest,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡°Larra could be right behind us.¡± Standing up, Vayra reached out for the next ledge up. She wrapped her fingers around one of the slippery stones and pulled herself up. She made it one rock up, then a few more, until her grip gave out and she tumbled right back to the same ledge she had started on¡ªonly inches away from falling back into the pollen-elixir mixture. ¡®More than likely, Larra is waiting for us on the surface. And if you want to get away, you can¡¯t be exhausted.¡¯ Vayra pushed herself up to a sitting position and leaned back against the wall behind her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to keep running. I want to win.¡± ¡®And you know what we have to do to get there.¡¯ Vayra was silent for a few seconds. ¡°Do you think she was right? Are we useless?¡± ¡®Only if you let yourself be.¡¯ Vayra exhaled. ¡®It¡¯s hard, I know. They¡¯re sending their best, favoured children at you, and you haven¡¯t had a chance to see how strong you really are against someone the same strength as you. Well, here, we¡¯ll prove it. We¡¯ll send Larra and her wolf running home with their tails between their legs. We just have a little more work to do to get to that point.¡¯ With that touch of encouragement, Vayra breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll rest, but only if you keep watch.¡± ¡®Adair and I will keep our eyes out, and we¡¯ll wake you up if anything goes wrong. Then tomorrow, we¡¯re getting out of here.¡¯ Chapter 37: Crevice [Volume 3] Vayra woke up to early morning light washing across her face. It streamed down from a hole high above and caught in the mist, beckoning her out of her slumber. She pushed herself up to her feet, then stretched out an ache in her back. Overnight, the bites Larra¡¯s wolf had left had mostly healed, and her cloak had dried off. Phason¨¦¡¯s glowing white ghost sat at Vayra¡¯s feet, petting Adair while feeding him sips of elixir and ripped-up chunks of salt-pork. ¡°Good morning, Vayra,¡± the Goddess said. ¡°Feel rested?¡± Vayra rubbed the back of her head. Everything was a little clearer, and not just like she had slept well. Her vision was sharper, and when she used her spiritual sight, the different swirls of Arcara and spiritual power in the air were sharper. That was what First Lieutenant felt like. When she shut her eyes, she could practically feel the energy of the elixir bubbling behind her. She couldn¡¯t say exactly what it was, but there was something strong behind her, exactly from the direction of Phason¨¦. ¡°First Lieutenant, down,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Now comes the real trick: we push ourselves up to Captain.¡± Vayra inched closer to Phason¨¦ until they were sitting side-by-side. ¡°Sorry for being snappy with you yesterday. And thank you for helping.¡± ¡°That¡¯s part of my job, Vayra,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Well¡­¡± Vayra crossed her arms and shifted away. She chewed the inside of her lip, then added, ¡°Thank you anyway.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that.¡± ¡°What did you mean?¡± ¡°That I¡¯ll always be here to help you, no matter what.¡± Phason¨¦ tilted her head, then leaned forward so she could stare right into Vayra¡¯s eyes. ¡°Are you alright? Having a mid-life crisis a few decades early? What¡¯s it with these questions?¡± ¡°I just¡­¡± Vayra sighed. ¡°You know anyway.¡± ¡°I want you to say it, anyway. We¡¯re stuck together. If we can''t be honest with each other, we¡¯re going to have serious problems.¡± She reached out and grabbed Vayra¡¯s hands with her ghostly fingers. With a mischievous smirk she said, ¡°Is it Glade? Boy troubles?¡± ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not like that.¡± Vayra expected herself to blush again, but she didn¡¯t. Phason¨¦ already knew the answer. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s pretty handsome. Cute. Whatever you call it. But¡­I know where we stand on that topic, and so do you.¡± She accidentally fed Phason¨¦ a little bit of mana as she cycled. ¡°If it hadn¡¯t been for you, yesterday, we wouldn¡¯t have made it out. I promise you, I¡¯m going to start standing on my own two legs. And before you get onto me with all that ¡®oh, you don¡¯t have to do it alone¡¯¡ªI know. But I want to be strong and raise us up together. I want to be the one who protects, too. I want to hug you after a fight and tell you that everything will be alright, too.¡± Phason¨¦ gave a curt nod. ¡°I understand.¡± Still a little cold. ¡°How¡­how do you feel about me?¡± Vayra asked. It was a vague question, but Phason¨¦ would know the intent. ¡°Feel? I feel lucky to have ended up with you.¡± Phason¨¦ shifted closer. ¡°Look, when I first bonded with you, when you first took the seekerstone, I wasn¡¯t too pleased, and we¡¯ve had our spats between then¡­¡± Vayra nodded, waiting for something else to happen. Phason¨¦ opened her mouth, as if looking for the right words. ¡°You remember when Glade said that he thought you were the perfect person for the job?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t believe it back then, but he saw something I didn¡¯t. There¡¯s this¡­spark in you, and I believe you can do what needs to be done.¡± Vayra pulled her hand out of Phason¨¦¡¯s, then lunged forwards and hugged the ghostly apparition. ¡°Thanks, Phas.¡± Adair climbed out of Phason¨¦¡¯s lap and curled up between both of their shoulders. ¡°I need a better nickname for you now. Orangie? No, that¡¯s terribly uncreative¡­¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find something.¡± Vayra inched away carefully. Adair stayed on her shoulder, clinging on with his tiny claws and mewling right into her ear. She didn¡¯t want to pull away from Phason¨¦¡¯s moderately warm strands of white starlight, but there was still a climb to make. She called the three empty barrels out of her corespace and set them down on the ledge. ¡°This elixir has to count for something, right?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°It¡¯s still a golden elixir,¡± Phason¨¦ remarked. ¡°It will still fuel you with raw, almost-purified spiritual energy¡ªwhich is what we need to hit the peak of First Lieutenant.¡± Vayra stretched her fingers out, then crawled to the edge of the ledge. She held the barrel down and started scooping water from the basin. ¡°So¡­First Lieutenant. As I get closer, we¡¯re supposed to add the finishing touches to the corespace. Some trails, ornaments, the like. But¡­once then, once we finish that, set the core in place¡­what then? What does it take to advance?¡± ¡°You will need plenty of Arcara and mana¡ªpushing yourself to the peak of the stage as you would do normally. Three barrel might be enough, though we¡¯ll be safer with four. But you¡¯ll also need to come to a certain¡­revelation.¡± ¡°Revelation?¡± Vayra Braced her arms with a basic technique, using the simple boost in strength to haul the barrel back up to the ledge. It was full. She pulled it back into her corespace. ¡°To bridge the gap between First Lieutenant and Captain, you¡¯ll need to truly understand the purpose of your Path. Some God-heirs have Paths set out for them, of course, but if they don¡¯t understand their Path, what its purpose in the world is, they¡¯ll never advance to Captain.¡± ¡°Do¡­lots of people get stuck at First Lieutenant?¡± ¡°Lots of God-heirs get stuck there, yes. In the past, a few Mediators have gotten stuck there for decades, though they were well before my time.¡± ¡°How will I know if I have the revelation right?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯ll start advancing, and you won¡¯t be able to stop it. Your body will be remade once more.¡± Vayra nodded. She had the second barrel filled up, and she started on the third. ¡°Where are we heading? I¡¯ve¡­I¡¯ve seen glimpses of the future. We tried the kausisia, and¡­I saw some things. It might help.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯ll help,¡± Phason¨¦ assured her. As she spoke, she looked directly at Vayra, and Vayra caught a whiff of calmness from Phason¨¦. It was faint, but it was unmistakably one of Phason¨¦¡¯s thoughts. Phason¨¦ continued, ¡°But¡­at some point, we¡¯re going to need to get out of the greenhouse dome as a whole. If we have what we need to hit Captain, then we need to think about an escape route.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a way over to the other half of the facility in the upper control room, right?¡± Vayra couldn¡¯t see the upper part of the greenhouse dome from such a deep little cavern, but it was still up there somewhere. ¡°And if we get over there, then we can leave.¡± ¡°If we make it to the central wall of the facility, then climb a bundle of roots, we¡¯ll start reaching some of the old workers¡¯ bunks, and some minor control rooms. I figure there might be some stronger, smaller elixirs there, and maybe even some fancy weapons.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s a plan.¡± Vayra hoisted the last barrel up and drew it into her corespace. She was expecting it to feel at least a little heavy, but the core was stronger now. It was full, but it didn¡¯t sag. Everything was wrapped up neatly, like cargo on a ship. She hopped a few times. Maybe there¡¯d be a faint sloshing sensation. Nothing. That¡¯s what a stronger core got her, then. She examined her arms, checking the phoenix feathers to see if there was much of a change. ¡°Only difference I see is the ears,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Feathers poking out, now.¡± Vayra reached behind her ears. A few red feathers lined the upper ridge, having now completely emerged from her skin. ¡°Huh¡­¡± ¡°It looks like fancy jewelry,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It looks nice, Vayra.¡± Vayra couldn¡¯t resist a smile. But then she said, ¡°Alright, get back inside me. We have a cavern to climb out of, then a greenhouse to cross.¡± Phason¨¦ dissolved and slithered back inside Vayra. ¡®Before we reach the top, get the Astral Shroud up. If Larra¡¯s waiting for us, we¡¯ll be ready to outmaneuver and outrun her.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll be ready.¡± Vayra didn¡¯t sense anything to signify the God-heir, but Larra¡¯s veils had been strong before. Vayra bent down in front of Adair, then picked him up. ¡°Alright, kitty. Back to safety you go.¡± She drew him back into the corespace to protect him. Then, sliding her hands into a crag in the rock, she began to pull herself up the cliff wall. It sloped inwards as soon as she made it more than a few feet off the original platform, but the fingers of her mechanical hand were more than strong enough to hold her in place, especially with the First Lieutenant grade Arcara. With the proper application of spiritual power, she used her mechanical hand as an anchor. Her prosthetic leg, with a boot still on it, wasn¡¯t as useful, but she didn¡¯t dare to take the boot off in case she needed to run when she reached the top. Just when the ceiling began to slope back at an almost forty-five degree angle and she feared she couldn¡¯t hold on anymore, she found a set of roots draping down from the ceiling. They were normal, pale roots that absorbed water instead of ejecting it, and when she grabbed them, they bore her weight. She adjusted her course slightly, aiming for the nearest hole in the ceiling. It was ten yards away, and she would fit through it¡ªjust barely. The moment she reached the hole, she paused, trying to let her newfound and subtle sense of regional awareness take over. A faint tug came from the direction of the pool below, and nothing came from above. Once she reached the hole, she wasn¡¯t at the surface yet. A thin chamber, mere inches wider than her shoulders, led up to the surface¡ªnearly five fathoms above. Staying as quiet as she could, she pressed her hands against the walls and lifted herself up through the hole. All she needed was a friction fit, and she climbed faster than before. Before she reached the top, she spent a half-minute charging and activating the Astral Shroud. When it burst out around her in a cloud of white flame, the air hummed around her, loosening pebbles and dirt. She scrambled to the top as fast as she could, then leapt out onto solid, muddy ground. Before she could even look around, a knife of seething water blasted at her shoulder, nearly stapling her to a flower-tree. Had it not been for the Shroud, she wouldn¡¯t have ducked in time. Larra threw off her cloak, unveiling her spiritual presence, but it was too late. Vayra was already sprinting away towards the greenhouse¡¯s central wall. She promised herself: next time she and Larra met, she wouldn¡¯t run. Chapter 38: Collapse [Volume 3] By the time Glade mustered the stomach to eat the rift beast, he had advanced to Master. He hadn¡¯t left the rift since, and his only purpose was to gather a massive base of Arcara. But he hadn¡¯t eaten anything. Now, his stomach gurgled and gnawed, begging him to just give it some sustenance. He built a fire with the empty wooden remains of casks and used it to cook the cleanest, least slimey strips of the beast¡¯s flesh. In his spiritual sight, it pulsed black and red, and when he cooked it, it glowed bright red. But he was hungry enough, and he scarfed down a few bites before he noticed a change. It was bitter and had the texture of coal¡ªif coal was malleable enough to chew. Like eating pure, condensed ash. His muscles vibrated. Invisible swords of power lanced through them, ripping at his channels and binding them tighter to the surrounding flesh. The channels weren¡¯t the blood vessels, he knew that much. They didn¡¯t a physical presence, but they existed nonetheless, and the better tied to his form they were, the better control over his magic he¡¯d have. Before he could take another bite of the rift-meat, his stomach lurched. He threw up. It was only once, and only half of the contents of his stomach. He took a few more bites of the meat before lying down and letting his body process it. It wasn¡¯t a proper cycling position¡ªhe wasn¡¯t sitting cross-legged with his hands in his lap¡ªbut he cycled his Arcara anyways. When he didn¡¯t feel any burning or stinging in his muscles, he sat up and kept eating until he wasn¡¯t hungry anymore. Halfway through the process, he felt his sword calling to him, almost begging him to rip it out of his sheath and use it. He felt the metal filings in his pouch begging him to fly out and be used in a technique. When he finally stood up, it was like a veil had lifted off his mind, and his bodily control had doubled. He moved quickly without a Bracing technique, and ran over to the keg of mind-elixir to refresh himself and fill his channels with more material to integrate. His body¡¯s singular purpose was to wield a sword. That was what it had been tuned for, and that¡¯s why it wanted him to draw so desperately. He nodded, satisfied, then continued the process. When Wren slipped into the greenhouse, she knew she wasn¡¯t the first¡ªthat was a good sign. Someone had wedged the outer doors open with a mound of rigid dirt. But, as far as she knew, the Mediator wasn¡¯t travelling with a stone-Path God-heir. Either the reports were wrong, and the Mediator wasn¡¯t here, or there were a great many other God-heirs here as well. She settled for the latter. Passing God-heirs had seen puffs of flame and flashes of white light inside the greenhouse, and though most were being quiet about it (no one wanted to get their loot confiscated by an army of Karmion¡¯s servants) there were some who told Wren what she needed to know. Inside the foyer of the greenhouse, a wedge of glass separated one half from the other, completely blocking off one side. She, as a First Lieutenant, was never going to break through. So she ventured to the western side, keeping her spirit veiled as best she could. It was hard¡ªshe needed a Bracing technique to lift off from the ground with her moth wings, just so she could fly short distances. Most of their race, those with no spirit potential, had lost their ability to fly long ago. She half-walked-half-fluttered across the greenhouse for a few hours, searching for any sign of her targets. If her prey was trapped on the other side, that¡¯d be a problem, but she¡¯d find out. She¡¯d do something to one of them. Her old master, who abandoned her, or the new apprentices who thought they could replace her. Maybe she¡¯d collect a bounty for the Mediator or seek Karmion¡¯s approval, but that was at the back of her mind. She passed a group of lower Lieutenants who were fighting a horde of angry nymphs, and she ignored them¡ªthe nymphs would make quick work of them¡ªand passed a camp of a few terrified Quartermasters who were debating turning back to reap the rewards of the low-quality spirit grains in the fields outside the greenhouse. She asked around among any groups of First Lieutenants she could find. Supposedly, they had felt the spiritual tingles of an Admiral every once in a while, and most of them believed it was coming from the central column of roots that ran up along this side of the central dividing wall. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. If Nathariel was anywhere, he would be there. She had no delusions of beating an Admiral, but she could make his life more difficult. She¡¯d advanced a stage since they had last met, and he hadn¡¯t. By the time the sun rose, Wren had her course. A small fire flickered upon a cluster of conks, nearly a third of the way up the central wall. The conks had grown around an old maintenance platform. As she approached, Nathariel would sense her. He probably already sensed something, but there were other God-heirs around, and the chances of him distinguishing her without direct concentration would be slim. The closer she got, the higher those chances got. She had to make it count. She pushed Arcara into the base of her wings. Wood dust surrounded the thorax-like lump on her back, strengthening and supporting it. The stagnant, still air rushed around her. By the time she could make out the details of the platform, Nathariel¡¯s spiritual presence unveiled itself¡ªshe¡¯d recognize that presence anywhere. Dim, slightly cracked, and wanting to give up. He was preparing to use his magic. He¡¯d noticed her. Wren targeted the platform¡¯s supports. Her Reach techniques were by far the strongest, but usually, she relied on wood chips and dust. But this old, rickety wood was a suitable subject for her techniques. A bolt of fire-Arcara seared past the side of her head, and she swerved to avoid another one. Those were just distractions, though. Already, her body was heating up. The Arcara inside her channels felt warm. Nathariel was trying to set her Arcara on fire. She reached out with invisible tendrils of un-moulded Arcara, gripping a single support beam of the platform. But the tangled strands of her now-external Arcara reach began to glow, showing their routes and giving them volume¡ªwhich they shouldn¡¯t have. They were about to burn. As soon as she gripped the support beam, she tucked her wings and dove. The weak, rotten beam cracked. She recalled her Arcara and cut off her Bracing technique. The further she fell, the cooler her channels became. They hadn¡¯t burnt yet, but they had been close. As the ground¡ªa tightly-knit orchard¡ªrose up to meet her, she spread her wings behind her like a cloak, catching herself. She had almost landed, when a blast of fire smashed into her wing. It knocked her into a spiral and sent searing pain all across her back. She might have been out of range of Nathariel¡¯s most deadly spiritual attack, but his physical fire wasn¡¯t as limited. She tucked her wings around her like a cocoon and plowed through the trees. The leaves and twigs smacked and sliced, but she crashed through the upper layer in seconds and tumbled through the dirt. She flopped unceremoniously on her back, looking up through the hole in the canopy she¡¯d created. The platform, now a distant blur on the greenhouse¡¯s central wall, creaked and groaned in the early morning silence. Then, with a chorus of cracks, it collapsed and plummeted. Wren smirked. Hanging onto the edge of a conk with one arm, Nathariel grumbled aimlessly to himself. He swayed in the air, trying to register what had just happened. He clasped Pels¡¯ wrist with his other arm, and he held tight to the mortal man. It wasn¡¯t really an exertion of effort, not with his standard strength-based enhanced body. But they couldn¡¯t hang forever. Nathariel hoisted the man up to the edge of the conk they hung off, then climbed up himself. Only two of the conks in the cluster remained. The rest had been stripped off when the maintenance platform had collapsed. The crane and the sheet of glass it carried had sheared through a couple fungal growths, and the platform itself had smashed off a few more. ¡°The boy¡­¡± Pels whispered, kneeling at the edge of the conk. ¡°He was still in the rift.¡± ¡°He would¡¯ve had a little more time inside,¡± Nathariel muttered. ¡°Will he be fine?¡± ¡°The rift will close,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°When the conks hit the ground, there won¡¯t be enough powerful Arcara to maintain it. It is¡­not likely he will make it out.¡± Nathariel spun away, his robes snapping along with him. ¡°We have to go back and help him,¡± Pels insisted. Nathariel raised his eyebrows. He set a hand on the column of roots climbing up the facility¡¯s center. He slotted his fingers into a groove, looking for the best spot to keep hauling himself up. ¡°Quite unexpected from you, Pels.¡± Pels scowled. ¡°I don¡¯t leave my crew behind.¡± ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, you were once very much willing to leave them behind.¡± ¡°They weren¡¯t part of my crew then. But people change, eh?¡± Pels asked. ¡°You¡¯re proof of that.¡± He stood up, but he kept staring off the edge of the platform. ¡°Aye, and Glade is as good as dead.¡± Nathariel let out a soft sigh. ¡°We have made lots of progress. If we don¡¯t keep climbing, we will likely lose both Vayra and Glade. He would want us to keep climbing, for the Mediator¡¯s sake. It is his oath.¡± Pels stepped back from the conk¡¯s edge. ¡°And the mothfolk? She¡¯ll be a problem, won¡¯t she?¡± ¡°Not if she can¡¯t fly. She¡¯ll be landlocked until her wing heals.¡± Pels threw his arms down and exclaimed something incoherently. After a few seconds, and a few deep breaths, he asked, ¡°Why are you so cold about this all, Nathariel? For a fire-Path, I¡¯d have thought¡­you¡¯d be a little more fiery.¡± ¡°Vayra is our best tool to fight Karmion.¡± Nathariel let go of the root. ¡°She might understand that, and she might not.¡± Pels clenched his fists. ¡°She¡¯s not just a tool. Neither of them are, though everyone keeps treating them like it. Kings, Elders, and God-heirs alike¡­but they¡¯re people, Nathariel. Would you treat your own son this way?¡± ¡°I never had any children of my own.¡± ¡°Answer the question,¡± Pels demanded. Shaking his head, Nathariel turned back to the strand of roots. ¡°You¡¯re not their father, either.¡± ¡°Neither of them have a father.¡± Nathariel slotted his feet into a crack in the root¡¯s outer surface. He waited for a few seconds, then said, ¡°If you fancy yourself a father, then help me save one of them while we still can, then.¡± They both continued to climb. Chapter 39: Assassins [Volume 3] Myrrir had almost become so absorbed with watching Nasyme he didn¡¯t hear the creaking floorboards and shifting ceiling until it was too late. He had been watching Nasyme for the whole afternoon without the God-heir knowing¡ªor so he hoped. He¡¯d followed the bald man through the fields at a healthy distance, watching him train some of the younger Moro-ka with their Jai swords. He¡¯d followed the man along a path to the stables and watched him feed the horses. He¡¯d followed the man back to his personal house on the opposite side of the valley. It was at Nasyme¡¯s house when Myrrir thought he could feel someone else following them. The house was a plain, broad complex with thin walls and lattice windows, but its roof was steeper than most. As far as Myrrir could tell, Nasyme only lived there with his great granddaughter. They sat on the porch, practicing and refining a style of runic calligraphy side-by side. Myrrir had never taken the time to learn runes, nor had his upbringing ever included writing beyond what was absolutely necessary, but he could appreciate the beauty of the brush strokes and swathes of black ink. The strokes glittered with flecks of starsteel, and when Nasyme dipped the sheets in a pitcher of Stream water, they glowed vibrant colours before bursting apart into a puff of sparks. Nasyme patted his granddaughter¡ªa young woman about twenty years old¡ªon the back. She didn¡¯t seem to have much spirit potential, but she used what little she had for runes. But the two were chattering aimlessly, and they didn¡¯t hear the creaking wood like Myrrir did. They didn¡¯t notice someone else approaching like Myrrir did. Myrrir backed away from the edge of the porch, slipping back into the shadows. He was about to try climbing to the roof to seek a better vantage point, but a black-gloved hand clasped over his mouth. He had gotten used to not cycling Arcara, but he still tried. Nothing happened. He drove his elbow back, smashing his attacker in the gut with blunt force, then grabbed the arm and threw the man down to the ground. The attacker wore all black. Black leather armour, black coat, black mask. He blended in perfectly with the twilight sky and deep shadows. Myrrir lunged and planted his elbow down on the man¡¯s neck. If the attacker was a God-heir, he¡¯d used magic. He¡¯d use his enhanced strength to throw Myrrir off. But he didn¡¯t. Myrrir kept pressing, and the man¡ªa mortal¡ªgurgled until he died. Myrrir leapt to his feet and pressed his back against the outside wall of Nasyme¡¯s housing complex. He heard a soft leathery creak, then a faint metallic ting. There were other attackers, and they were drawing weapons. He wanted to do nothing. It¡¯d be the easiest. But there were logistical concerns. These had to be assassins¡ªthe Moro-ka didn¡¯t dress like this, and who else would? Chances are, they were of Elderworld origin. If they killed Nasyme, then the First Lieutenant God-heirs wouldn¡¯t ever leave the port, and Myrrir wouldn¡¯t be able to return to his ship without a fight. He peered around the corner, glancing at Nasyme and his granddaughter. The both of them looked so serene and peaceful, and a pang of aimless longing skewered through Myrrir¡¯s gut. He scrambled up the vines on the side of the house, then crawled up the side of the thatched roof. There were five assassins on the front eave, ninety degrees from him, and each of them carried a small crossbow¡ªfirearms would be too loud. The bolt-heads glistened a pustulent shade of green; there were runes carved along them. One assassin was still pouring a vial of Stream water over the tip of the bolt, charging the runes. He didn¡¯t want to know what would happen if one of those hit him. The green had to be a poison aspect of some kind. He lodged his feet in the gutter and inched along the edge of the ceiling. The assassins bent down, pointing their weapons. The time for subtlety was over. With a shout, Myrrir charged along the roof. An assassin whirled around and fired his crossbow. Myrrir ducked to the side, and the bolt whistled over his shoulder with a trail of green sparks. He tackled the assassin at the hips. The force of the blow carried them both over the edge of the roof. Myrrir landed hard atop the assassin, cushioning the fall and incapacitating the man. Before the rest of the bolts fired, Myrrir spun around a pillar supporting the front eave. It put him right on the front porch, facing Nasyme and his granddaughter. ¡°Myrrir?¡± Nasyme asked softly. He leapt to his feet and drew his Jai. His granddaughter stared at Myrrir, her big brown eyes inquisitive. Myrrir pointed up at the eave above, and suddenly, he realized the genius of using mortal assassins. No spiritual presence meant no alerting tingle and a harder spirit to scan. ¡°Assassins,¡± Nasyme whispered. ¡°Tame, get inside please.¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The granddaughter¡ªTame¡ªobeyed quickly. She rose to her feet and retreated through the house¡¯s open door. The four assassins swung down off the eave, landing in the lawn in front of the porch in crouches. They fired their crossbows. Nasyme dove behind the short calligraphy table, flipping it up and dumping the ink. The bolts thudded into the table. The assassins threw away their crossbows and drew short daggers or Elderworld straight sabers. Three converged on Nasyme, and one approached Myrrir. With the element of surprise gone, they stood no chance against Nasyme. Lightning crackled down the edge of his ruby Jai. But Myrrir was unarmed, and his assassin wielded a saber. Myrrir dove for the pot of Stream water that Nasyme had been testing his runes in earlier, but the assassins advancing on Nasyme kicked it away. Nasyme blasted the man with a bolt of lightning, but the Stream water was gone. Myrrir¡¯s assassin sliced at him. The tip of the saber whistled past Myrrir¡¯s nose, then cleaved back the other way. Myrrir dipped his head, but the blade still smashed off a peak of his glassy hair. It wrenched Myrrir¡¯s neck to the side. Then the assassin kicked him. Myrrir staggered back, falling through the house¡¯s door and landing hard on his back. He found himself in an open foyer of sorts, thin walls on all sides. Ink paintings hung from the walls, and a few spare Jai swords waited beneath them on racks. His old jade sword hung on the far wall¡ªright above Tame. But she held a musket and was fumbling with the pan. The assassin drove his saber down at Myrrir. Myrrir rolled to the side, then sprang back to his feet. With a roundhouse kick, the assassin flung Myrrir to the other side of the room, sending him skidding along the wooden floorboards. He landed right at Tame¡¯s side. She shouted something in their native language. Myrrir grumbled, ¡°Pardon me,¡± then reached up and grabbed his jade sword from the rack. It fit comfortably in his hands like an old shoe. When the assassin charged him, Myrrir pushed the saber to the side, trapping it against the wall. The assassin punched, but Myrrir ducked. The assassin had a second vial of Stream water clipped to his belt. Myrrir snatched it up and crushed it in his hand, glass and all. A wisp of mana rushed into his body, and he used it to cycle a brief pattern before it ran out. It was just enough. He drew a wisp of gunpowder out of Tame¡¯s musket¡¯s pan. He thrust his hand out, guiding the gunpowder into a needle. It blasted straight through the assassin¡¯s neck. Clutching his throat, the assassin fell back onto the floor, writhing and bleeding. Myrrir slumped down in the middle of the foyer, panting. After a few seconds, Nasyme marched in, pointing his Jai directly at Myrrir. But when his head swivelled towards the assassin¡¯s body in the middle of the floor, he delivered a brief bow and said, ¡°Thank you.¡± Myrrir shook his hand out. He¡¯d crushed a glass vial with it, and it was bleeding. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re welcome.¡± He turned his sword over and stabbed it tip-first into the floorboards. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll want that back.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Tomorrow evening,¡± Nasyme said, ¡°you will learn to use it properly.¡± ¡°The Jai is heavy,¡± Nasyme said. ¡°Once you get it moving, you cannot let it stop. You must let it flow.¡± ¡°A bunch of spiritualist, martial-artist rambling,¡± Myrrir grumbled. ¡°Bunch of words that sound nice, but in the end, mean nothing.¡± ¡°They mean nothing to you because you refuse to listen,¡± Nasyme said, twirling his sword around him in a complex pattern. ¡°Look at the mountains, taste the air. Look for the beauty around you, and find something to fight for.¡± Today, no lightning crackled on its edge. ¡°I am not using my enhanced body.¡± Myrrir hadn¡¯t found any Stream water for the rest of the day. There might have been some in the village, somewhere, but he didn¡¯t know where. The closest he could see was the hazy outline of the Stream itself rising above the edge of the mountains, but it was miles away. ¡°If I was using my enhanced body, I wouldn¡¯t need your fancy fighting style,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°You are an excellent warrior, Myrrir,¡± Nasyme said. ¡°Brave, bold, rushing into fights and giving it your all¡ªthat is something I respect very much about you. But there is more to life than fighting. You must also be an excellent person, and you may find that you fight better because of it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m far from that.¡± ¡°I am aware, from what Tye tells me.¡± Nasyme tilted his head back to Myrrir¡¯s shed higher up the hill, where Tye stood on the porch. The old man was watching them. ¡°Myrrir, it has been three centuries since I advanced to Captain, and I will not advance any further. My body is decaying, and I am aging again. I am not afraid of death either, but I am afraid of dying without leaving a mark. The bluecoats are amassing an army in the pass. In three weeks¡¯ time, the Moro-ka and I will attack. We will have every advantage, but there are not enough of us, and we will die.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Myrrir shrugged. ¡°You could come with us. We would gladly have you. You could make a mark and fight for something.¡± ¡°And die with you?¡± Myrrir shook his head. ¡°Not in the cards for me. Ever since I was old enough to know my name, I was promised my father¡¯s Godhood. I will have my favoured position back.¡± He turned his jade sword down again and stuck it into the dirt. Then he sighed. ¡°But¡­I¡¯ll admit, the calmness here is pleasant. This is the first time¡­in my entire life that I¡¯ve gone more than a week without cycling Arcara. Barring yesterday.¡± ¡°Then enjoy it while it lasts. Soon, there will be no more villages like these.¡± ¡°I presume you want me to tell you what happened to your grandson before you die?¡± ¡°God-heirs do not have a pleasant life,¡± Nasyme said. ¡°I understand what it is like growing up without a father. I was conceived and then abandoned, and I regret doing the same to some of my own children, no matter how little spirit potential they end up with. I must know what happened.¡± ¡°If I tell you, you won¡¯t kill me?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°I pity you. I would not kill you for that. A mortal life lived to its fullest can be more rewarding than ten lives of God-heirs.¡± Myrrir rolled his eyes. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll tell you what happened to the old captain of the Hyovao. But I will not fight alongside you.¡± Chapter 40: Runestones [Volume 3] When Vayra reached the center wall of the facility, her legs ached. She needed to take a break before she climbed to the upper control dome. At the very center of the greenhouse¡¯s dividing wall, a cord of the thick roots¡ªten paces wide each¡ªran up along the wall, stretching all the way up to the control room. Conks had formed around them in clusters, feeding off the pumping elixirs. A stack of housing hovels rested against the base of the root cord, stacked up against the wall and growing upward like a stalagmite. They were simple wooden hovels with sloped, thatched roofs. A few of the windows were intact, but even in the early morning, no light seeped out of them. Abandoned. Vayra found a door near the bottom and pushed it open, then crept into the complex. Larra might have been following, but it had been a long run to the housing complex, and Vayra had pushed her First Lieutenant limits just to maintain the Astral Shroud; the God-heir would have to be a few hours behind, at least. Everything ached. When Vayra climbed up rickety stairways or passed over crumbling wooden walkways between houses, her legs just wanted her to stop moving. Finally, when she neared the top of the hovel complex, she sat down on a crunchy, dusty cot and leaned back against the wall. A window let in the orange light of the sunrise, as did a hole in the roof. There wasn¡¯t much in the room, but the drawers caught her attention. A spiritual weight bled out of it, beckoning her closer. ¡®This would have been a shift manager¡¯s house,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡°What makes that special?¡± ¡®The shift managers would have all been God-heirs, and decently powerful ones at that.¡¯ Curious, Vayra pushed herself off the bed one last time and hobbled over to the drawers along the opposite wall. She pulled them open one-by-one and rummaged around inside them. Most of them just held dust, rusty trinkets, and books about farming. Nothing helpful. When she was halfway through the drawers, she unveiled a map of the greenhouse. It wasn¡¯t terribly useful, and the parchment was crumbling and old (it was too fragile to roll up and bring with her), but it laid out a schematic for the central column of the facility. The control dome was supposed to be accessible by a staircase, but that had long since crumbled away, leaving the root cord as the only way up. ¡°Those little red dots on the map,¡± Vayra said, ¡°what are they?¡± ¡®They probably mark storerooms and elixir vaults. You will find some decent loot up there.¡¯ ¡°Loot?¡± ¡®Maybe some nice weapons. I seem to recall them having wraith-swords and Arcara-Moulded muskets.¡¯ But Vayra kept searching the drawers for now. There was still something in there that weighed on her spirit. When she reached the bottom drawer, a red glitter drew her eyes. She pulled the wooden drawer open all the way, revealing a handful of small stones at the back of the drawer. She pulled them out and set them into the light. Each was a different shade of opaque ruby¡ªred jade. They had once been polished, but now, most of them were scuffed and scratched. They were about the size of her thumbnail. Only two were perfectly hexagonal; the others were chipped or cracked. The perfectly hexagonal gemstones were the only ones that glowed. ¡®Runestones¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra picked up the two faintly glowing stones and brushed the dust off them, revealing a pattern in their center. It looked almost like some of the calligraphy she¡¯d seen, though more rigid and utilitarian. ¡°What do they do? Do you recognize the runes?¡± ¡®This first one is a Khatrul rune,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. She didn¡¯t need to specify which one she was talking about¡ªVayra subconsciously knew she meant the one on the left. ¡®That means ¡°disrupt¡± in ancient dwarven.¡¯ ¡°And the other?¡± ¡®Nhassa,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Regenerate.¡¯ Vayra pressed her flesh-and-blood hand against the ¡®disrupt¡¯ rune. She ran her finger along the rune¡¯s surface, scraping out more dust and revealing starsteel flecks. When she fed it mana and Arcara, it lit up for a second¡ªbefore sending out a pulse of invisible force. A spiritual wind blasted away from the stone in a foot¡¯s radius. When it hit Vayra¡¯s Arcara, the Arcara stalled, disrupting any flow. The disruption pulse even repelled the flakes of ambient mana in the greenhouse air. She raised her eyebrows and shook her hand out, trying to dispel the uncomfortable tingling sensation the disruption field had left. ¡°Phas, how¡¯d that work?¡± ¡®Moulded Arcara cannot cut through gemstones. You recall this one restriction, correct?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡®Gemstones are the scattered remnants of the Streamfather¡¯s skeleton. They contain a great deal of power in them, though it¡¯s difficult to tap.¡¯ If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°You keep mentioning the Streamfather¡­¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled softly. ¡®The Discarded wasn¡¯t taught much, was she?¡¯ ¡°It wasn¡¯t exactly easy to find in the books I read.¡± Despite living her first nineteen years as a street urchin, she had found a great deal of books in Old Uckoe¡¯s library. ¡°They mentioned the Streamfather a lot, as if they already expected me to know what he was.¡± ¡®Long ago, a demonic fiend from realms high above descended to the mortal realm. The Streamfather, the first Immortal Emissary of the first High Pantheon, descended and fought the Foe off. They destroyed each other in the battle, and the weakened remains of their bodies scattered across the galaxy¡ªgemstones for the Streamfather, and shadowthorns for the Foe.¡¯ Vayra gulped. Just the thought of the shadowthorns brought back memories of her earlier encounters with Myrrir. She rubbed her eyes, trying to purge the memories. A shadowthorn might not have much effect on her now, but once, it had nearly destroyed her¡­ ¡­A few months ago. Not even a year. ¡®It felt like longer, didn¡¯t it?¡¯ Vayra nodded. She picked up the gemstone. ¡°So¡­when I use this, the gemstone amplifies the power through the bones of an ancient heavenly being?¡± ¡®Exactly. It resonates with your mana. That being said, the gemstones on their own aren¡¯t incredibly powerful. It requires a continued connection to the user to direct its power.¡¯ ¡°Just like the ignimaids,¡± Vayra breathed. On Muspellar, she¡¯d seen mermaids playing in the lava flows¡ªthey protected themselves from the immense heat with runestones. ¡®Precisely.¡¯ Vayra turned the stone over, then set it onto her mechanical hand. The plate on the back of her hand had three empty sockets, each specifically designed for runestones. She set the disruption stone onto the panel of dark wood, then tugged a coiled starsteel wire up from the socket and wedged it into the engraved tips of the rune¡ªwhere she would fuel it with mana. Once the rune had been bound and attached, she held her hand out. She fuelled the rune through the starsteel wires like she was pumping mana through her channels, trying to use the disruption pulse, but it let out such a small wave and immediately halted the flow of the mana for a few seconds. ¡®The runestone is a part of your arm,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It¡¯s a part of you now. You control the wave of resonance. Push it away from you. Concentrate your willpower and activate the rune.¡¯ Vayra pulled her arm back like she was about to punch something, then conjured her seer-core in her other hand. She held the core in front of the runestone. She fed the stone mana once more, and a wave of invisible resonance blasted away from her mechanical hand. She guided it with an exertion of willpower¡ªtelling the stone what she wanted it to do, and how exactly to do it. It was almost like cupping an invisible hand around the back of the stone and telling it to ¡°send your effort the other way¡±. The stone obeyed. This time, only an arc of invisible disruption blasted away from the stone. It cleaved through the seer-core and dispersed it, then carried on to the following wall. The wave cut through the air with a ringing tone until it hit the opposite wall of the room¡ªhard enough to shake loose a shower of dust. ¡°Nice¡­¡± she whispered. ¡®Now, don¡¯t use it too often.¡¯ Vayra looked down at the back of her prosthetic hand. The runestone was glowing a lot brighter than before, and veins of power passed through it, threatening to shatter it into smaller pieces¡ªlike the other, useless runestones. ¡°Should¡­I be worried that other God-heirs might be carrying runestones, though?¡± ¡®Unless they have obvious bodily modifications, no. They wouldn¡¯t be able to control the stones like you could.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then picked up the regeneration runestone. ¡®We can take that one, though I don¡¯t suppose it will be too helpful for us specifically,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Not with my Emissary-level healing and your bodily enhancements. Better to destroy it than let someone else take it.¡¯ Vayra delivered a short nod, then stomped her foot down on the gem until one of the corners broke off. She had to Brace her leg with her basic technique to output enough strength. When the stone chipped, it stopped glowing. She walked back to the cot and sat down. She fiddled with her single disruption runestone for a few moments before she was confident that it wouldn¡¯t fall off the back of her hand, then practiced a few more waves of cleansing disruption. To keep practicing, she summoned Adair out of the corespace and allowed him to drink some more elixir, but to keep it from frying his little mind as he slurped it up, she pushed gentle disruption waves through him. It halted the half-purified Arcara and dispersed it before it could do any harm. When Adair finished drinking, he curled up in her lap and let off a noise that sounded halfway between a purr and a mumbling child. She ran her hand down his back. Now, he was big enough to cover both of her hands if she held him up. ¡°Wasn¡¯t thinking that raising kittens would be part of my Mediator duties,¡± Vayra muttered, leaning back on the old cot. Her eyelids were heavy, and once she settled into a regular, calming cycling pattern, darkness fell¡ªwhether she wanted it to or not. When she closed her eyes, visions of Myrrir washed through her mind. First, of him wielding the shadowthorn, then of him slicing her arm off in a single powerful blow. The nightmare shifted, and her mind replayed the visions that Nathariel¡¯s Arcara well had shown her¡ªserving at Karmion¡¯s side willingly. Then¡­her mind filled in the gaps of what would happen if she didn¡¯t go along willingly with Karmion¡¯s plan. An unstoppable force lifted her off her feet and her back into the tangled trunk of the Namola tree, and Karmion bent its roots around her limbs, forever imprisoning her. Either way, the galaxy burned. She sprang upright in the cot, panting and sweating. She hadn¡¯t even meant to drift off, but she was exhausted. Adair clung to her shoulder, mewling in fright, and she grabbed him so he wouldn¡¯t fall off. After a few seconds, his purrs resumed. She pulled him closer to her chest, and with every purr, a touch of anxiety fled her body. ¡®Vayra, we have time,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I will keep watch for Larra while you sleep.¡¯ ¡°That¡¯s¡­not what¡¯s keeping me up.¡± She laid down, but her mind wouldn¡¯t settle. Then, a faint heat emerged behind her. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghostly form appeared, sitting cross-legged on the cot, just behind the small of her back. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Vayra,¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯m keeping watch now. You¡¯ll be alright.¡± She set a shimmering white hand on Vayra¡¯s shoulder. The weight made Vayra¡¯s breathing slow down again. She settled back into a regular cycling pattern, continuing to integrate elixir and push herself closer to Captain. ¡°Rest, Vayra,¡± Phason¨¦ said gently. ¡°When you wake up, we can scale the central column.¡± Chapter 41: Healer [Volume 3] When Glade reached the peak of Master, he realized something was wrong. He turned back towards the rift opening, and all he saw was flashes of Nathariel¡¯s Arcara-fire. The man was attacking something. The light flashed through the rift slowly, and almost so slowly that Glade barely recognized a problem. By the time he turned and sprinted to the opening in the rift, the platform was already collapsing. Outside, everything began to fall, and he had to watch it in slow-motion. He was about to jump out of the rift when a sheet of glass sheared down through the conks, severing them from the side of the greenhouse wall and sending them tumbling through the air. If he crawled out of the rift now, he¡¯d be plummeting through empty air. So he sat down cross-legged on the white sand, staring through the opening, watching the outside world tumble around¡ªand entirely powerless to do anything about it. Shards of wood tumbled slowly like snowflakes, until they passed through the opening and blasted in like cannonballs. After one nearly took off his head, he dropped to his stomach and sheltered behind the corpse of a second rift-beast that he¡¯d killed recently. When the rift fell halfway to the ground, its edges began to waver. With the conks dispersed, the diminished power wouldn¡¯t sustain the rift for much longer. The opening inched shut, air rippling around it. Glade was about to break cover, but a shard of wood rippled past him. It blasted him in the shoulder with enough force to send him flying a few yards back across the desert of the rift. He tried to sit up, but the shard was embedded in his shoulder. It stung¡ªno, it blazed¡ªwith pain. It had nearly impaled all the way through. Holding it in place with one hand, he pushed himself up and staggered back towards the rift opening. The conks and debris hit the ground around the rift, sending up a wave of dust, mud, and wind. The air rushed through the rift opening, blasting out at him. He tucked his head and pushed towards it. The rift was only the height of an average man now, and it was rapidly shrinking. He reached out. By the time he plowed through the wind and a hailstorm of mud, the rift was only half his height. He reached through it with one hand, then, shouting in pain, reached through with the other. The rift¡¯s edges tightened against his shoulders, pressing directly against his human willpower. It wanted to thrust him back and trap him inside. Slowly, he¡¯d lose his mind. He¡¯d decay like the rift-beasts, turning into something entirely unrecognizable. That couldn¡¯t happen. He still had a job to do. Pushing his Arcara to his hands, he pressed against the rift opening. This time, he shouted with effort. He pulled his head through the rift. Outside, the air was settling and dirt rained down on him. Through the dust, a silhouette approached. He blinked, trying to clear the air, but he couldn¡¯t see. All he could tell was that a humanoid silhouette was approaching. He clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst. Any moment, the silhouette would blast him with an arcane technique¡ªor, more likely, destroy him with a weapon of the mortal world. The silhouette reached out a hand. Glade blinked. ¡°Take it!¡± a voice yelled. He clasped the shadowy wrist. His fingers wrapped around a gauntlet, and something pulled on him. As he passed through the rift, he blacked out. Glade coughed himself awake. Dust flew out of his mouth, and his throat stung¡ªlike he¡¯d just tried to eat a nest of hornets. He bolted upright, one hand on his throat, and the other hand clutching his wounded shoulder. When he made it upright, his head whipped around. He sat at the center of a crater, only a few yards away from the central wall of the greenhouse. Wedges of the conks stabbed into the ground all around him. One had cracked, and it leaked a vibrant blue liquid from its internal channels. Glade nearly rushed forwards, trying to capture some of it in his hands¡ªhe recalled what Nathariel had said about the material inside the conks, and how powerful it was¡ªbut he barely made it a few steps before his legs collapsed beneath him. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. But he¡¯d left all the elixirs in the rift, and it closed. He¡¯d need something. He was about to push himself up again when a flicker of movement caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, there was another silhouette. He stopped and ripped his sword out of its sheath with his good arm. Cycling Arcara, he prepared to defend himself. But whoever it was¡­wasn¡¯t in an aggressive stance. A woman perched atop a mound of debris, sitting with her hands between her legs and staring directly at him. Glade couldn¡¯t make out any weapons on her. He staggered in a circle to face her, keeping his sword ahead just in case. ¡°Ah, good morning!¡± the woman called. The mid-afternoon light fell over her, turning her into less of a silhouette and filling out the colours and shapes of her form. Her hair was the only thing that stayed inky black. Glade rubbed his eyes. She was wearing a sleeveless robe that reminded him of overlapping white bandages, and a heavy sash overtop. Vines and twigs wound around her legs, and a twisted rope of roots made her belt. And two rabbit ears poked out the top of her head. She was a Lapinn¡ªa race of rabbitfolk from the outer reaches of the galaxy. He looked harder, trying to pick out any weapons she might be carrying, but Lapinn God-heirs usually only ever practiced healing Paths. He saw no weapons. Glade scrunched his eyebrows, then reached up to his shoulder. A bandage wrapped around the wound, and the shard of wood had been removed. But, above all of that, the muscles didn¡¯t slip and grind against each other like they usually did while recovering from a stab wound. There was only a soft weakness and a sting. ¡°Greetings.¡± He turned his sword over and bowed, unsure how powerful this Lapinn was. She didn¡¯t look any older than twenty years, but it was hard to tell with God-heirs¡ªand he was certain she was one. Who else would have healed him? Who else would be wandering around a greenhouse like this? Then he spared a glance up. He took a quick scan of her spirit (she had probably already scanned his). Second Lieutenant, as best he could tell. ¡°I am Glade Charl Arvitir,¡± he said. ¡°You have my gratitude for helping me.¡± She had to have been the one to help him out of the void. The Lapinn jumped up off the rock and landed on the ground in front of him. She snatched his hand and shook it in a friendly gesture before he could protest, then said, ¡°Ameena.¡± ¡°Your¡­name?¡± ¡°Aye.¡± She nodded, her ears flopping forwards. They nearly poked Glade in the eyes, but he raised his chin, and they slapped his cheeks. She was a few heads shorter than him, and on his level, she had to stare up at him. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re welcome for helping you, and all that. I was hoping you¡¯d not be one for formalities¡­I dunno what I was expecting from an Orderman like you, though.¡± He gulped. She knew what he was. God-heirs were rarely friendly to the Order of Balance. His grip tightened on his sword. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Orderman,¡± she turned away and took a few steps away. ¡°If I wanted to kill you, I could have.¡± She snapped her fingers, and the tips glowed with a dark emerald light. ¡°Your Rootline would have been easy enough to snap, and your Arcara easy enough to harvest.¡± ¡°Rootline?¡± Glade breathed, taking a few shaky steps after her. His legs were finding balance again. ¡°Orderman doesn¡¯t know?¡± Glade stopped and scowled. No one had ever told him about it. ¡°It¡¯s the essence of your life, the main Arcara channel running between your soul and core,¡± she said. ¡°Aye?¡± The Order had just called that the governing channel. He nodded anyway. ¡°I¡¯m leaving, now,¡± Ameena said. ¡°Good that you¡¯re awake and all.¡± She took a few more steps into the woods, but Glade ran around in front of her. It made his wounds ache more, but he needed to stop her. ¡°Why? Why save me? You are a God-heir. We are supposed to hate each other.¡± ¡°I saw someone fall from the sky and I thought I¡¯d help. There was an angry moth lady over yonder.¡± She pointed over her shoulder off to the north. ¡°Maybe a mile away. Tried to help her, too, but she tried to skewer me with a stake of wood, so I buggered off. She was a First Lieutenant.¡± Glade tilted his head. That wasn¡¯t really the answer he was looking for. ¡°But¡­me?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Ameena rolled her neck around. ¡°I don¡¯t really like the Order, but I was hoping to find someone to venture around here with, ¡®cause the nymphs are getting nasty, and there are plenty of God-heirs looking to rip us weaker ones to shreds. But I¡¯m not going with the Order, ¡®specially not if you¡¯re going to be all formal and stuffy.¡± Glade paused, taken aback for a moment. Then he stepped out of her way. ¡°I did not need a companion, either.¡± As soon as he said that, it sounded like he was just trying to save face. He knew it. ¡°I needed to get back to my friends.¡± If Nathariel and Pels hadn¡¯t found him yet, that must have meant they were still climbing. They must have thought he was dead¡ªor trapped in the rift, and close enough to dead. ¡°Climbers?¡± Ameena asked, marching off into the forest at the edge of the crater. The trees were a normal size, and here, they were only starting to send out buds and tiny white flowers. ¡°If they were up where you fell from, you¡¯re never catching up to them.¡± Glade shut his eyes and sighed. Nathariel would climb faster than Glade could¡ªhe¡¯d be able to support Pels better when he didn¡¯t have to worry about Glade and ascend all the way to the top of the dome. Glade wouldn¡¯t catch up. ¡°You¡¯d have better luck scavenging around here.¡± He conceded with a dip of his head. ¡°Thank you for the advice. I¡ª¡± ¡°Look, Orderman, I¡¯m heading to the old guardsman barracks. There¡¯s a staff there that I¡¯ve been eyeing. Come if you want, and keep up if you can, but I¡¯m not waiting.¡± Then, with a three-foot effortless hop, she took off through the woods, sprinting to the south. Glade stood completely still, trying to parse the conversation in his mind. Wren, the mothfolk bounty hunter was here, and she¡¯d made the rift fall. There was a healer who was looking for a team, and above all that, there was no way he¡¯d catch up with Nathariel or Pels now. He shut his eyes, and in a few seconds, he knew what his duty demanded of him. He needed to get stronger now¡ªnot just Vayra. He still had to reach Captain in time for the tournament. Scouring the wreckage, he searched for anything useful. Eventually, he pulled up a mostly intact keg. He filled it with the leaking elixir from the conks to replace what he had lost in the rift, then fastened a shoulder strap out of rope and tied it over his shoulder. Then he sprinted off in the same direction Ameena had gone. Chapter 42: Rootspire [Volume 3] Vayra wedged the fingers of her mechanical hand into a crag in the root and hauled herself up an arm¡¯s length. She scraped the tips of her boots along the rough bark surface until they found traction again. Then, with her flesh-and-blood hand, she reached up and jammed a wedge of sharp stone into the root like it was a climbing pick. The root column running up the interior of the greenhouse had been exposed to the open air for so long it had gotten a rough outer coating like a tree¡¯s bark, and only in her spiritual sight could she see the Arcara whirling beneath the surface. She had been climbing from midday until evening. With the sun sinking below the horizon, it was marginally cooler inside the greenhouse and much more pleasant weather to climb in. She had already made it a quarter of the way up the greenhouse wall. By the time she reached the first set of conks, a few of Harvest Sanctuary''s moons had risen. The outer dome distorted their light into a colourful rainbow that hurt to stare at for too long. The conks themselves trembled with accumulated spiritual power, but she doubted she¡¯d be able to break them open without dropping a wedge of glass on them¡ªand that would never happen on this side of the dome. There wasn¡¯t even any scaffolding to hold sections in place. As she climbed, Adair clung to the shoulder of her cloak. It was best if he got to see the outside world, instead of spending all his time growing up in her corespace. He might not turn out to be a very good mouser, but he¡¯d be good at climbing and clinging onto people¡ªand he might even learn a little bit about magic. While she sat on the edge of the conk, catching her breath, she looked down. Larra could be behind her, still, and no doubt was. But even Vayra¡¯s First Lieutenant eyes found no evidence of it. ¡®She¡¯ll be behind us,¡¯ Phason¨¦ assured her. ¡®I can try to sense her, if I come out there and you feed me some mana.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯d rather not make any bright light.¡± Vayra had only been using strength-based Bracing techniques during the day, but at night, they¡¯d shine too bright and be a beacon to her exact location. ¡°That is, until we know that Larra has locked onto us again.¡± The Astral Shroud wasn¡¯t very good for climbing; it didn¡¯t boost her strength like the basic Bracing technique did. But Vayra had spent her entire life climbing up the rough wooden surfaces of Tavelle and scampering around the alleys. She didn¡¯t doubt her climbing speed or endurance. She just didn¡¯t know if it¡¯d be enough to keep outrunning Larra¡¯s strength-based body. ¡®The bigger and bulkier she is, the harder time she¡¯ll have climbing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed. ¡®Her Bracing might help her to a certain extent, but don¡¯t expect miracles from her.¡¯ ¡°No miracles from Larra sounds nice,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But I¡¯ll plan for the worst.¡± After a few minutes to catch her breath, she kept climbing. As she climbed, she continued to integrate more and more of the elixir. She¡¯d gotten through one and a half of the barrels she still carried with her (along with feeding touches of it to Adair), but that alone wouldn¡¯t be enough to push her to the peak of the stage. She had to finish the corespace. She split her attention, dropping in and out of the corespace as she climbed. When she was inside the corespace, she worked on setting up its interior. First, she laid out the essence of a small cabin at the top of the central hill, nestled among the silver pagwart. The cabin had walls of stacked logs, each layer building something slightly better onto the foundation, and then she topped it with a thatched roof. She kept the cabin¡¯s inside tight, using it to visualize how much area she had within the core to store other physical items¡ªabout seven barrels¡¯ worth of floorspace. Then she laid out trails through the night garden, setting round cobblestones into the ground and winding them around the pond. When she started, she set them down aimlessly, but Phason¨¦ instructed, ¡°Concentrate, Vayra. Focus the trails on where your Arcara travels through the core. This is how you visualize it, so visualize it well. You are setting the structures of your core.¡± In between bouts of climbing, she focussed on layering the trails in the most direct and fastest routes through the core. Her nature was slippery and quick, and her Arcara had to be the same. At that thought, the pathways turned a little shiny and a little slippery, as if a rain had just fallen onto the stones. The leaves of the pagwart glittered with dew. With her consciousness flashing in and out of her core, she kept climbing. She kept drawing more and more elixir out of her corespace and purifying it using the technique Nathariel had taught her. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Once she finished laying the trails in her core, she willed the air within to turn pleasantly humid and pleasantly warm¡ªa temperature she could wear a simple blouse and trousers and not be cold. Nathariel¡¯s final instruction had been to seal the last stage of additions¡ªthe cabin and the paths, the touches to the air, the dewy ground. She gathered up her Arcara and blasted a purifying wave through the core, locking everything as she had forged it. The core¡¯s final adjustments had been made. She kept climbing and purifying Arcara. Her mana was depleting with how fast she was consuming it to cycle, and she had to be nearing the peak of First Lieutenant. By the time she reached the next set of conks and paused to take a break, it was midnight, and she had finished the barrels of elixir. Her core was full again, and Arcara flooded her channels. She felt ready to burst any moment, but not in a bad way¡ªin an¡­ascending way. But nothing happened. She hadn¡¯t expected to advance to Captain¡ªthere was still an insight to reach before she could trigger the advancement¡ªbut she had expected to feel something. Anything to tell her she had done it right. ¡®When you get the insight¡ªthe Path revelation¡ªright, you¡¯ll know,¡¯ Phason¨¦ told her. ¡°What would the insight be?¡± Vayra asked, dangling her legs off the edge of a giant conk, catching her breath and letting her arms rest. ¡®This is one of my earliest vivid memories of advancement,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®My insight was relatively simple: ¡°I am not the wind. I am not the void. I guide the way. I am the in-between.¡± ¡¯ ¡°And that triggered the advancement?¡± ¡®It did. I spoke it aloud, and it was enough to push me onwards. It consumed all the Arcara in my system, and in a matter of seconds, my body was remade as a Captain.¡¯ ¡°Remade? Will I get my limbs back?¡± ¡®I doubt that. They are gone for good. But your connection to your artificial limbs will likely improve.¡¯ They kept climbing after that. Vayra kept her head down, watching below for any sign of Larra. She still saw nothing. By morning, she figured she was about two-thirds of the way up the center wall of the dome, but it was hard to tell. The ground blurred into a single field, splattered with different patches of colours. She paused at a single smaller conk. It would be the last break she got before she¡¯d have to climb the final stretch to the upper dome¡ªthere were no more conks above her¡ªso she took an extended rest to let her limbs recover. ¡°What is my Path, Phason¨¦?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®Well, you certainly don¡¯t have any techniques laid out for you,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You have a grand smattering of all sorts of techniques. You have the Starlight Palm, from my Path of the Astral Hammer. You have the basic shield, a common Ward technique that almost any Path would have. You have the Shroud, a Bracing technique of your own creation, and then you can funnel a Starlight Palm through the pistol? Well, that¡¯s something that fire-Path God-heirs do all the time.¡¯ Vayra stood up and marched to the center of the conk. ¡°Right, so it¡¯s not an easy answer.¡± ¡®Were you expecting an easy revelation?¡¯ She sighed. ¡°I suppose not.¡± With a gentle nudge, she helped Adair up to her shoulder, letting him perch. ¡°I was supposed to make my own Path, after all.¡± She patted her haversack, feeling for the Godscourge book that Old Uckoe had given her all those months ago in Tavelle. Back then, there hadn¡¯t been much in it that she understood, but it had described the process of forging her individual enhanced body. ¡®Let¡¯s run through all your techniques,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®See if anything clicks for you. It¡¯s daylight, now, so we won¡¯t make a big sight.¡¯ Vayra started off with the Starlight Palm. A basic Reach technique, it manipulated the element under the reign of her Path. But it was just a basic offensive technique. Her shield didn¡¯t even have a name, aside from being a Ward technique¡ªit was the same, basic and uninsightful. Next, she mustered her scythe. It was a Mould technique, and though it didn¡¯t have a name, the scythe did: Hereph¨­s. It had once belonged to Phason¨¦¡¯s brother, but he¡¯d been killed by a different God. It was entirely theirs now. A tool for cutting wheat? Yeah, that had so much to do with starlight and killing Gods. ¡®It¡¯s a tool for cutting down old growth that¡¯s stayed well beyond its time,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra swung it a few times, letting it whistle through the air¡ªand working in tandem with Phason¨¦ to control it. Then, she threw it a few feet through the air ahead of her. It spun for a few seconds, whizzing and popping with the starlight-Arcara, then flew back to her hand. This time, she caught it. Then she dispelled the technique altogether and activated the Astral Shroud. As the first technique she¡¯d come up with entirely on her own, it was best suited for her. Her new core, with its defined pathways for Arcara, supported the Shroud even better than before. It took less mana to maintain the Shroud, and the white fire parted the air for her. She took a single step and crossed the conk in a blink. Adair clung to her shoulder still, mewling excitedly. Finally, she drew her pistol, and used it to fire a beam of starlight far off into the distance. She concentrated the beam around the pistol, and with her new core, the technique stayed as a tight bar of light for a few hundred yards before dispersing. She tucked the unloaded pistol back into her belt. ¡°Between them all? Well, they¡¯re mostly offensive or speed-based. Except for the shield.¡± ¡®For bringing down enemies thrice your size, and enemies with a much higher power ceiling.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. It was definitely an arsenal, not a bulwark¡­ She just needed to tie it into herself somehow to reach the revelation. ¡®How about you check the book, now that you¡¯ve gotten a little more advanced?¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. ¡®Maybe there¡¯ll be something about finding a Path insight. You still need to give your limbs a break from climbing, but we don¡¯t have forever¡ªand you¡¯ll need to reach Captain before we go board-to-board with Larra.¡¯ Chapter 43: Revelations || Butcher [Volume 3] Vayra and Phason¨¦ scoured the Godscourge book¡ªa small leather-bound tome with a black cover¡ªuntil they reached a segment where it discussed the transition from First Lieutenant to Captain. The flag officers¡ªCaptain, Commodore, Admiral, and Grand Admiral¡ªwere all a realm of sorts. It didn¡¯t involve an ascension to a higher plane of existence, but the stages were very different in terms of advancement. It was all based on self-insight and revelations. But, thankfully, there were a few pages about the Path revelation. First off, a Path¡¯s techniques, aspects, and purpose all had to align. In theory, everything about Vayra¡¯s Path lined up. She had carefully crafted her techniques for offense and punching up well above the user¡¯s weight. It was the revelation¡¯s job to make sense of it all to the user, to craft it into a neat statement, to search through a sea of meanings and land on the one. According to the book, it could be hatred, it could be ambition, and it didn¡¯t matter how cruel or unjust. It just had to be deeply personal and genuine. Vayra tried a quick: ¡°I want to live the life I never had.¡± Nothing. ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone else to grow up the way I did.¡± Again, nothing. ¡°Phas, how was your revelation personal?¡± Vayra asked. She sat at the edge of the enormous conk again, dangling her legs over the edge and watching the root between looking at the pages. If anyone was climbing behind her, she¡¯d notice. ¡®I grew up in the shadow of my mother, a prodigy who claimed Godhood over wind when she was only a century old. I was one of hundreds of children, and I was never even in the running for the godly authourity. I knew I didn¡¯t want to be like her, using wind-aspect Arcara my entire life. She was cruel and ambitious, and she didn¡¯t really care about us. To distinguish myself, I deviated from the wind Paths she had laid out. At first, I wanted her attention and love, but then I realized I wanted something more: to be my own person.¡¯ ¡° ¡®I am the in-between¡¯?¡± ¡®I wasn¡¯t the best or most gifted of her children, but I claimed a previously unclaimed authority because I became a symbol of stars and their power. But starlight isn¡¯t known for its raw power. It guides sailors, it illuminates the night sky. It gives little kids something to look at and dream about.¡¯ Phason¨¦ paused. ¡®In essence: I knew I would not be the one to change the galaxy, but I¡¯d be the one to guide another to that destiny.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯d be me.¡± ¡®That¡¯d be you. I know it doesn¡¯t help that much.¡¯ ¡°Well¡­it does help,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯m aware of my duties, Phas, kinda like you were. Just, I don¡¯t know how to turn that into a revelation.¡± She turned back to the book and reread the last line of the passage about Path insights for what had to be the tenth time: Focus on the one thing you want the most, more than anything in the galaxy. You must be honest to yourself; nothing less will do. There is only one truth, and that is insight, and insight is truth, and truth is insight, and insight is truth, and on and on. ¡®We¡¯ll keep working on it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®But look out below.¡¯ Vayra stared down, peering through the beams of midmorning light. When she focussed her First Lieutenant eyes, she picked out a small black speck on the roots far below. She slapped the side of her head, and the speck came into focus just a little better. But there was only one person who could be climbing up behind her. ¡°Alright, Phas,¡± Vayra said, standing up and tucking the book back into her haversack. ¡°It¡¯s time to keep moving.¡± Myrrir stood on the porch of his little shed, side-by side with Tye. The sun was setting over the tranquil valley. He took a deep breath. For the first time in his life, Myrrir didn¡¯t feel the need to dip his hands in Stream water and absorb mana. His channels didn¡¯t feel as strained as they once did, but it was hard to say. For the moment, he chose not to care. The Moro-ka riders had gathered at the base of the valley, far off in the distance. Nasyme had once again offered for Myrrir to travel with them, to fight alongside them, but Myrrir turned the offer down. The best he could do was tell Nasyme the story of the old captain of the Hyovao. He had told the story as best as he remembered: he had boarded the ship, killed the captain¡ªNasyme¡¯s grandson¡ªand freed the crew. But it satisfied Nasyme¡ªenough that the God-heir had mustered his army the moment Myrrir had finished. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. There were a hundred riders, maybe, coated in their lamellar armour and bearing Jai swords. Their horses trotted anxiously, kicking up a cloud of dust. Nasyme Braced his voicebox, and with a thunderous shout, he yelled something in the language of the Moro-ka. The army trotted off down the valley. They would marshal in the foothills, gathering with other bands of Moro-ka from the mountains and foothills before riding off to battle. Like Myrrir most of the villagers watched. Some wept, and others bowed respectfully. Myrrir sighed, then shrugged. The riders left the valley. Not knowing what to do with himself, he turned away. It wasn¡¯t long after the Moro-ka left the village that everything started to fall apart. Within a few days, a group of bandits rode through the village, stealing a few horses and plundering the bridge pagoda. Up on the hill, Myrrir and Tye were far enough from the path of destruction, and it didn¡¯t affect them. ¡°When will we leave, Myrrir?¡± Tye asked. ¡°Soon, the fighting will begin, and we would do well to escape before then.¡± ¡°Nasyme will attack in about a week,¡± Myrrir said, recalling their older conversation. ¡°If we¡¯re trying to make it back on foot, we should leave tomorrow¡ªat the latest.¡± ¡°You¡¯re cutting it close¡­¡± the old man warned. Myrrir scoffed, then said nothing more. He cast a longing gaze outside. ¡°You have a choice to make, Myrrir,¡± Tye said. ¡°Stay here. Live out the rest of your days. Give up and forget about everything, and you will have peace.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give up,¡± Myrrir snapped. ¡°I am going to the tournament.¡± Immediately, his channels started to ache again. He ignored it. He could push through. The favoured son of Nilsenir did not lose. ¡°An old man can hope,¡± said Tye. ¡°I can hope¡­¡± The next morning, Myrrir and Tye gathered provisions from the mill. Tye spoke kindly to the miller in the local tongue, and the miller handed them pouches of rations willingly. Tye bowed with his fists together, and Myrrir copied the gesture, then tucked the pouches into a pack. They wouldn¡¯t have horses, so it¡¯d be slower, but they had plenty of time to catch up and make it offworld while the bluecoats and Elderworld God-heirs were distracted. He patted himself down. He wore his old red robes, but his armour was long gone. His jade sword hung heavily on his hip, like it didn¡¯t belong. Everything was in order. He forced himself to lift his foot and turn around. Just when he was about to start walking, marching off towards the shore with the Stream centered directly in his vision, a shout sounded from off in the distance. Myrrir¡¯s head whipped to the side, locking on to the source of the noise. It came from Nasyme¡¯s house. He didn¡¯t need his Captain-stage hearing to lock onto it. The building¡¯s thatched roof was burning. He thrust his pack into Tye¡¯s arms, then sprinted across the valley towards the burning house. Another pack of bandits circled the building, clad in dark robes and mismatched armour. They whooped and hollered and shouted curses, all while swinging around rusty metal replicas of Jai swords. One of them held Tame by the hair and dragged her outside, kicking and flailing. Myrrir splashed through the river at the base of the valley and sprinted up the other shore. Halfway up the other side of the valley, though, he stopped. He shouldn¡¯t be interfering with the business of mortals in some lowly reach of the galaxy. It wasn¡¯t his place. But he couldn¡¯t just let the bandits have their way. If he could accomplish one thing before he left¡­ No. He was just blowing off a little steam. He ripped his sword out of its sheath and charged up the slope at the nearest bandit. With a high swipe, he smashed through the man¡¯s hip, knocking him off his horse. When he fell to the ground, Myrrir slammed the sword down, crushing the man¡¯s neck and cleaving his head off. He slashed straight through an unmounted bandit, then spun and hacked another in half. A horse charged at him, and he slashed through the beast¡¯s unprotected chest, then cut the fallen rider in half. With a shout, he leapt up onto the burning porch. Another bandit stood on it, arms full of trinkets pilfered from the house, but Myrrir cut his head off in a single swipe. Tame¡¯s calligraphy equipment remained out on the porch¡ªincluding the bucket of Stream water. Myrrir dunked his hands in the water and let mana flow back into his body. A bandit pointed a musket at him, but he held his hand out. The gunpowder exploded backwards, and the firing mechanism burst apart. Myrrir sensed more gunpowder in a flask at the man¡¯s hip. With reaching tendrils of Arcara, he pulled it out of the flask, then flattened it into a sheet and used it to rip the bandit into two halves. With a cloud of gunpowder hovering behind him, he marched around the outside of the house, shredding the bandits. None of them even had an inkling of spirit potential, and none of them put up a fight. It wasn¡¯t as satisfying as he hoped, especially not when his spirit started to scream in pain. His channels ached, charred and decaying, and they threatened to rip apart. They bulged where the char was the thickest and where the damage was the greatest. But his techniques held, and his magic didn¡¯t fail him¡ªeven when he reached the man dragging Tame by her hair. Myrrir shut his eyes and shook his head, then blasted four separate tendrils of gunpowder into the man. The last tendril glanced off the man¡¯s armour with a spark, and all the tendrils ignited. In a contained flash, the entire upper half of the bandit¡¯s body exploded into red mist. It wasn¡¯t what he had been hoping for, but it worked. Tame covered her ears and screamed¡ªthe blast had been right next to her¡ªbut aside from a film of blood covering her, she was fine. Still, Myrrir knelt in front of her. He stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to think of what he might say (if anything), and giving a bit of time for her hearing to recover. In the distance, Tye watched, and for a moment, Myrrir let himself wonder. In another life, he saw himself a peaceful villager. He might have lived at the edge of the village, quiet and reserved, but no one hated him. When he grew older, he married a woman much like Tame, and they had children. But this little idyll had already fallen apart. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Myrrir asked. He stood straight up, purging all emotion from his voice and stepping back coldly. ¡°Who¡­are you?¡± Tame breathed. ¡°I am Myrrir, former favoured son of Nilsenir.¡± He didn¡¯t belong here. ¡°It is not¡­your sword,¡± Tame spat. She crossed her arms and turned away from Myrrir, weeping. ¡°Not proper.¡± She was right. He¡¯d butchered the bandits, and they had deserved it. He¡¯d butchered Moro-ka before, and Nasyme wasn¡¯t here to shield him any longer. ¡°Leave!¡± Tame yelled. ¡°Leave! Do not come back here¡­ever!¡± And so Myrrir did. There was nothing left for him here. Chapter 44: Upper Dome [Volume 3] Vayra climbed the rest of the distance to the upper control dome in a matter of hours. Though the upside-down dome was smaller than the main greenhouse, it was all relative. The upper dome was still large enough to fit an entire harbour inside it¡ªand, like the main dome, the central dividing wall still divided it in half. Vayra reached the top of the root cord. Like the other intersections between root and glass, years of neglect left the root pressing right up against the glass, with absolutely no way to squeeze through. She hung in place for a few seconds, the fingers of her mechanical hand wedged tight into the cracks in the root and her stone dagger jabbed straight into the side flesh of the root. But the longer she hung, unmoving, the more time she gave Larra to catch up. The woman was no longer a distant speck. Vayra could make out her every detail now¡ªdown to the flowing, dark cloak. But, a few yards to the side, there was a hole in the bottom glass of the control dome. It was rectangular and entirely intentional, and chunks of wood hung around the edge. ¡®There used to be a staircase here,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®It wound all the way up from the worker housing, but that¡¯s long since crumbled.¡¯ ¡°It had to be the staircase, huh?¡± Vayra shifted over to the edge of the root, keeping her fingers and hands wedged into the bark. She got as close as she could to the opening, but there was still a vast distance to leap. She targeted the far side of the rectangular hole; it¡¯d be the easiest to latch onto. ¡°Alright, kitty,¡± she whispered to Adair. ¡°Hold on tight.¡± Adair¡¯s claws sank into her cloak. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to leap, but a blast of sharp water-Arcara surged past. She lifted a hand and shifted to the side. The water splashed against the Moulded-Arcara and glass of dome above harmlessly. Vayra swung for a few seconds before grabbing hold of the root with her other hand. Larra was in range. As quickly as she could, she Braced her legs and pressed them up against the root, then kicked off. She sailed through the air, reaching up for the ledge. If she missed, it was a straight plummet to the surface. Miles below¡­ Her fingers latched onto the edge. Her flesh hand slipped, but her mechanical arm clung on. It was up to her willpower and Arcara control, not the strength of her muscles. Yelling, she pulled herself up the to ledge, then rolled inside the upper dome and splayed her arms out to the side. She¡¯d been climbing almost for a day and a half, and now had to do this. Her muscles burned and her lungs heaved, but she pushed herself up. She didn¡¯t know how long she had until Larra arrived. The floor around the stair hole was wooden boards stacked atop the glass, keeping as flat as it could until it reached the edges, where the dome sloped up. The light from below didn¡¯t illuminate the dome much, so she conjured her seer-core and held it up. This level was two storeys. It was a lobby, with different hallways and chambers branching off in all directions¡ªall except towards the central wall. On the other side of the central glass dividing wall, there were more rooms, and the control dome continued, but there was no way over to the other side. At least, not yet. ¡°Alright, Phas,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Where are we heading?¡± ¡®We need to keep near the central wall, and we need to get as high as we can. If there¡¯s a way to cross between them, it¡¯s higher up there.¡¯ Vayra drew her pistol, ready to funnel power through it, and took a step. Dust clouded the air, and it turned everything hazy. Brown wisps swirled around her feet. After a few more steps, her toes clipped a thin wire. Moulded Arcara. It had been almost invisible, and with the dust, entirely shrouded. It shattered when her boot scraped it, evaporating into sparks. Vayra gulped. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡®Magic tripwire,¡¯ Phasone said. ¡®Be wary. You should have been paying attention with your spiritual sight.¡¯ ¡°You could have reminded me¡­¡± Vayra pulled Adair off her shoulder, then drew him into the corespace. She raised her pistol and held it ahead of her, turning in a circle. The walls, made entirely of twisted branches and vines, shifted. A mud golem pushed out of the wall¡ªpre-formed and solid. It let out a deep bellow that made Vayra¡¯s arms shudder, then smashed the ground with its fists. The wooden boards cracked, revealing the unbreakable dome floor beneath. It was exactly like the golems protecting the kausisia platform, except there was only one, and its armour wasn¡¯t nearly as rigid or complete. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡®It¡¯s not as strong, then,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. Vayra squinted at it, allowing her spiritual sight to take over, and she weighed the strength of its Arcara against hers. She couldn¡¯t see its core¡ªit probably didn¡¯t have one¡ªbut the Arcara felt about the same strength and purity as her own. She raised her eyebrows, then pointed the pistol at it. She fired a beam of starlight-Arcara. The concentrated beam blasted a thin hole straight through its chest, but the golem kept charging. It was twice as tall as she was. A little finger-width hole in its chest did nothing. She dove to the side, avoiding the golem¡¯s charge and letting it slam itself into the opposite wall. From deep within her core, she caught a wisp of thoughts. Her single straight beam was excellent for breaking heavily armoured targets and hurting smaller God-heirs, but she¡¯d need something more substantial to take out the golem. Phason¨¦? Vayra thought. Was that you? But she already knew the answer. It was. Phason¨¦ wanted them to use the scythe. It made the most sense. Vayra donated control of her mechanical arm, and the scythe began to form. With a quick glance at the seer-core, she determined that she had about half her mana supplies, accumulated from the ambient mana in the air. It¡¯d be enough. Then, as the scythe was forming, she consumed the rest of the seer-core to activate her Astral Shroud. The golem turned around with a creak. It raised its fists, tightening them and turning them into hammers. Then, with another bellow, it charged. Vayra clenched and flexed all her muscles, then let everything fall loose again. She took a step to the side, but instead of letting the Shroud¡¯s speed run wild, she only moved a single pace out of the golem¡¯s way. As the creature lumbered past, she swung the scythe¡¯s blade through the back of the golem¡¯s calf, sending it stumbling. The scythe left a bigger gash than it ever had before at the lower stages, and the edges of the cut glowed white-hot instead of red-hot. The brute was done for. Vayra sprinted forwards, catching up to the golem in a flash. She hacked through the rest of the golem¡¯s leg, then spun around it, delivering a pattern of cuts that she and Phason¨¦ had drilled into themselves. The Astral Shroud burned around her hands, and it started to crawl up the haft of the scythe. Each swipe came faster and faster, and the shining, burning scythe blade slid through its target with ease¡ªwhether it was a big cut or small. In seconds, she flashed around the fallen golem, cleaving it up into hundreds of tiny pieces. Finally, with a pop, it burst apart into chunks of mud and roots, scattering across the floor. The power fled out of its channels and filled the air, joining the ambient mana. Vayra deactivated all of her techniques and dropped to one knee. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll admit it¡­that felt good.¡± Aside from nearly burning through most of her mana, that is. ¡®Unless you find a patch of unpurified Stream water that you can draw mana from, you¡¯d best start conserving it. Let the ambient mana here fill you back up.¡¯ Vayra nodded in agreement. She stood back up and kept walking, but this time, she kept her spiritual sight active. It might have required a little more concentration, but if there were traps, she¡¯d find them. Reforming her seer-core, she set off into the darkness of the nearest tunnel. There would have to be a stairway in here somewhere. Glade spent a day running through the forest, trying to catch up with Ameena. He only used his enhanced body sparingly¡ªto leap across gullies or skirt around the largest patches of the orchard. But, at midnight, when the moons shone directly down on the greenhouse from above, he had to stop. He had reached the peak of Master already, and he hoped he had prepared his core enough¡­ The run, the little extra cycling and conversion of mana, was enough to push him over the edge. As Nathariel had explained, he wouldn¡¯t have to undergo such a rigorous core preparation step like Vayra did¡ªbeing a human with mild spiritual potential, his core had never been set to an element or altered in any way, and he didn¡¯t need to cleanse it and make it malleable to a Path. It already was. A spike of energy ran through his core. He stopped running, using his mana and following Nathariel¡¯s instructions, as best as he remembered¡ªand following Vayra¡¯s process. That still reigned vivid in his mind. He found a sheltered crater only a few paces away, and he tucked into it. On one side, a fallen log hid him from view, and on the other side, a mound of dirt and rotting fruit shielded him from sight. He didn¡¯t know how long it would take, but he shut his eyes and got to work. If he held it back, he could hurt himself. By the time he finished the advancement, he wanted to collapse, and there wasn¡¯t much he could do about the encroaching darkness and exhaustion. He might have passed out for a few hours, or it might have just taken hours to complete the advancement, but when he opened his eyes, it was morning. He had lost a lot of ground. But then he lifted his fingers, opening and closing them, and they tingled with newfound strength. They wanted to move. They wanted to latch onto his sword¡¯s hilt, and he wanted to swing it. Shutting his eyes, he tried to ignore the sting in his channels. They felt like they were about to crumble or rip, or both. His weak potential wasn¡¯t supposed to have so much power flowing so quickly. But he¡¯d made it to Third Lieutenant, against anyone¡¯s expectations. He had to keep going. He took off into the woods, travelling in the same direction that Ameena had. Sooner than later, he¡¯d find the guardsmen¡¯s fortress¡ªand maybe something to keep himself advancing. Chapter 45: Arsenal Upgrade [Volume 3] Vayra wound her way up through the dark control dome, jumping over arcane tripwires or avoiding some hallways altogether¡ªif they had too many traps, she skipped them. Whenever she found a staircase, she used it to ascend higher up the dome. ¡°Where exactly are we aiming for?¡± she asked Phason¨¦ as they ran. ¡®There should be a control room at the very top,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®If we can make it there, we can cross over.¡¯ So she climbed as high as she could, searching the winding halls for any stairways they could use. The hallways themselves were easily twice her height, made entirely out of woven branches and tacked-on planks of wood. Normal-sized conks grew on some corners, and vines dangled from the ceiling. With each breath, she sucked in musty air. It didn¡¯t smell as rotten up here (except when she passed a puddle of freshwater that had been fermenting for who-knew-how-long), but the air tasted different. Ambient mana had accumulated high up, trapped by the dome, and flecks of iridescent dust absorbed into her skin. Her mana well refilled, and the higher she climbed, the faster it absorbed. ¡®The control room we need should be on the other side of a guardsman¡¯s post,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Don¡¯t know where it is, but you¡¯ll know it when you see it. The post will have weapons and such in it; it¡¯ll be hard to miss.¡¯ As she ran through the hallways, a set of crashes rang out deeper within the dome, then a few splashes of water. ¡°Sounds like Larra made it up.¡± ¡®Be careful,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®There are multiple routes through this place. We can¡¯t come face-to-face with her before we¡¯re ready.¡¯ They arrived in a storeroom room with a few glass decanters of refined elixirs that shone even brighter than the raw material from the ground. There was an entire rainbow¡¯s worth of colours. When she picked one bottle up, the liquid sloshed with a ringing tone, like hundreds of tiny bells chiming. When she plucked the cork off, a fruity odor seeped out. ¡®Using fruits from the other side of the facility, they probably enhanced the efficiency. Less energy gets wasted, and it¡¯ll cost less mana to integrate it.¡¯ Vayra, though, was already at the peak of First Lieutenant. More Arcara wouldn¡¯t help, now¡ªit was only her Path revelation¡ªbut she kept the decanter and drew it into her corespace. It¡¯d be helpful later. She couldn¡¯t pass it up. For good measure, she grabbed all the decanters off the shelves of the storeroom and pulled them into her corespace. A few of them glowed purple, and there was one turquoise one, but none of them would help her at this point. They were physically lighter than the barrels, and certainly took up less volume, but the spiritual weight of so much condensed energy weighed down on her core. When she was half full, and the weight was interfering with her ability to fight, she left a few behind. Reluctantly. Maybe Nathariel had underestimated how much power this place had. ¡®If he has never been to a God¡¯s greenhouse before, there is a good chance he underestimated the stored-up value here,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. After that, they kept moving. They passed another storeroom filled with barrels of long-rotten food, then through a minor control room with roots and thick starsteel wires winding all around the walls. The roots were all spirit-water-accepting ends, though, and the wires were inactive¡ªsave for a few loose Arcara sparks from unwanted conducting. Vayra climbed four more sets of stairs before she arrived at the top of the dome. There was nothing to block the outer glass, and the sloping exterior glass of the main greenhouse dome was the only ceiling. A few fan-plants would have kept it ventilated, but their leaves had withered, and the tight enclosed space on the exterior of the dome had turned into an oven. All the vines inside it had withered away. She had drifted away from the central wall significantly, though, so she ran back toward the wall, trying to get out of the exposed room as fast as she could. When she reached another hallway with significantly more vine coverage, she stopped and leaned against the wall. Her mana had refilled entirely, and although she had been moving quickly¡ªand sometimes running¡ªit was nowhere near as exhausting as the climb up the main root cord. She pushed off the wall and continued down the hallway. At the end, a set of massive doors awaited her. They were wooden, but when she pushed on them, they didn¡¯t budge. The sideways brass handles suggested they would slide apart, but with her spiritual sight, she noticed a pattern of runes around them. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡®Arcara locks,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Good thing I know the combinations.¡¯ ¡°What is it?¡± ¡®Can I have your left hand?¡¯ Vayra gave up control right away, then turned her shoulder forward so the hand could reach the lock. Phason¨¦, using Vayra¡¯s hand, tapped a pattern into the rune circle. Different tones chimed out as she flooded different runes with Arcara, and when tapped out quickly, it had the exact same melody as the song Phason¨¦ had sung for Vayra during the advancement from Master to Third Lieutenant. With a rumble, the lock acquiesced. Vayra took back control of her hand and pushed on the handle as hard as she could. At first, it didn¡¯t move. It was too heavy and dusty and old. After a few seconds of Vayra scrambling against the ground to no effect, Phason¨¦¡¯s white ghost appeared¡ªand Vayra knew exactly what she wanted. She stepped away from the handle and placed her hand on Phason¨¦¡¯s shoulder, giving the Goddess a little extra mana. With a single grunt, Phason¨¦ heaved the doors open. ¡°Thanks,¡± Vayra whispered, then stepped through. Phason¨¦ dematerialized in a flash, and the strands of light flooded back into Vayra¡¯s chest. On the other side of the doors was a small room with a complete ceiling of rough wooden boards to block out the outside light. It smelled of pipe-smoke and gunpowder¡ªa bit charred and a bit sulphuric. She blinked, recoiling from the scent for a second, before looking around. The little room had a table in the center, and a skeleton still sat at one chair with playing cards in its hand. Its flesh had rotted away long ago. Along the edges of the room were racks of weapons. There were a few silver swords and few scythes and spears, and along the opposite wall, she noted muskets and casks of gunpowder. ¡°This is the guardsmen¡¯s room, isn¡¯t it?¡± she whispered. ¡®Correct.¡¯ ¡°Then¡­the main control room should be exactly on the other side of that door.¡± Vayra held her hand out to the light of the seer-core illuminated the other side of the room as well. Another doorway awaited, this time with only a simple swinging panel and no locks¡ªand no magical traps, as far as her spiritual sight could tell. She walked over, about to push on the door, when Phason¨¦ said, ¡®Wait!¡¯ ¡°What?¡± Vayra lifted her hands, as if she was about to set off a trap. ¡®Look in that chest over in the corner,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. ¡®Some of the guardsmen would have been God-heirs, and you don¡¯t know what kind of equipment they might have had. I sense something in the chest¡­¡¯ Vayra turned in a circle, looking for any sort of chest. A glimmer of brass caught her eye beside the musket rack, and she approached it. It belonged to a small wood-and-brass box that had been carefully tucked into the corner. ¡°I don¡¯t need special senses to tell you that a chest like that is good to open.¡± Vayra knelt in front of it. The closer she got, the more she sensed an arcane weight emanating from the box and pulling on her core. But this time, she approached with her spiritual sight active. There were no tripwires, but a set of roots conducted Arcara in a loop, and they wrapped around the outside of the chest. She¡¯d have to break at least one to open it. ¡®If we break the roots, chances are we¡¯ll activate some sort of trap.¡¯ Vayra followed the roots over to the wall, then pulled a panel of wood aside. An inactive root-and-mud golem waited behind it, with a rigid and firm face¡ªexactly like the Commodore-grade golems Vayra had unleashed on Larra earlier. It wasn¡¯t active, and it didn¡¯t exert any spiritual power or pressure, but she figured it¡¯d awaken if she broke the loop of spirit water inside the roots. ¡®Break the root,¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested, ¡®then pour a trickle of one of those elixirs down the opening. It¡¯ll simulate Arcara flow and to keep the golems pacified for long enough to open the chest, and when it wears off, we¡¯ll be long gone.¡¯ Vayra called up a decanter from her corespace and unplugged it. The moment she pulled open the chest, she poured a dribble of the glowing golden liquid on the torn root. The wall shifted and the panel shook, and for a single second, the golem shuddered. Vayra jumped to her feet, ready to run, but there was only one rumble. The dribble of elixir was holding. She poured a little more for good measure, then knelt down to examine the contents of the chest. A silver pistol rested on a bed of paper gunpowder-and-shot cartridges. Vayra gingerly picked the weapon up. Its handle was a pale wood, and a Moulded Arcara filigree covered it. The Arcara was solid blue, and it had the texture of amber. When she tapped it with her fingers, the Arcara let off a few sparks of energy, just like starsteel would. This Arcara had been Moulded by a proper smith, though, and it would last for centuries before decaying. She picked it up and ran her hand down the barrel. An ornate pattern of starsteel carvings swirled along the side of the barrel, and at the tip, a ring of swirling, calligraphy-like runes rimmed the muzzle. ¡®Those are amplification runes,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®When something passes through the barrel and fuels them, they¡¯ll make the shot more powerful. Or¡­in your case, they¡¯ll make the beam of starlight you fling out a little stronger.¡¯ Vayra grabbed it by the handle, feeling the Moulded Arcara tingle against her skin. The firing mechanism looked normal¡ªthis pistol could still use normal shots¡ªbut she could also funnel her power through it. ¡°Well, I¡¯m keeping this,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Sounds like an upgrade.¡± She pulled her old pistol out of her belt and set it back down in the chest. ¡°Sorry, old guy, but I need to stay as light as possible.¡± She tucked the new pistol into her belt, then stood up and turned back to the next door. Judging by how much their added elixir had dimmed in the trap, Vayra figured they had about a half-hour before the golems activated. Half-hour to get the central wall down? That didn¡¯t seem so bad. She pushed the door open and stepped into the next room¡ªthe control room. Chapter 46: Sword Friend [Volume 3] Glade had been worried he might never find the main guardsmen¡¯s outpost, especially after losing sight of Ameena. But, halfway through the next day of running, he arrived at the top of a hill and looked out over the landscape. A small stone fortress perched on the next hill to the west. It had star-shaped walls, but wooden buildings had been stacked onto the ramparts, and newer cobblestone additions spilled over the main fortress wall, boxy and haphazard. But its builders had probably never intended it as a first line of defence, nor to hold up to a long siege. Rather, it would¡¯ve been a headquarters. That meant it¡¯d be less resistant to an invader like Glade, while still housing some decent treasures. Glade navigated across the small valley towards it, sliding down terraformed ridges of dirt and sprinting across flat ledges. The orchard continued for another quarter-mile, but closer to the fortress, the trees thinned, and he found himself running across a band of bare soil. The walls rose steeply ahead. An old, rusting portcullis barred the main entrance, and he probably could have broken it down given time, but he chose the easier route. He turned to an overflowing mound of old stone structures just to the left. They might have been additional barracks, or just individual cycling chambers for the fortress¡¯ inhabitants, or maybe they did have some defensive purpose. When Glade fuelled his enhanced body and flooded his muscles with a touch of mana, he leapt up to the roof of the first lower cobblestone box. Its flat wooden ceiling shook under the impact of his landing, and when he kicked off and sprang to the next level, the old boards shattered. He hopped from box-to-box until he was high enough to leap over the main wall of the fortress. His feet clipped the crenellations, and he skidded to a halt on the rampart. Rusty cannons lay strewn about, having crushed their rotten carriages long ago, and other wooden debris littered the ground. The inside of the fortress was plain, but there were so many little buildings crammed into it that he couldn¡¯t see the ground level. He ran around the edge of the rampart, searching for a way down and trying to make a mental map of the fortress. The back of his neck began to tingle when he reached the east side of the fortress. At first, it was a logical tingle¡ªif Ameena was here, then he¡¯d sense something. But then it built and grew stronger, until it was at least thrice the strength that he had felt from her before. There were more God-heirs here. He drew his sword and ducked into the nearest wooden shelter built upon the wall. A weapons rack hung on the front wall, laden with dusty, cobweb-crusted muskets, and a shelf ran along the back wall. The shelf was a little more useful¡ªit had probably once been covered in orange, mana-restoring elixirs, but now there were only three left. He plucked them all up and clipped them to his belt just in case. Then, he veiled his core, as best as Nathariel had taught him. Either he was facing someone thrice as strong as Ameena, or he was facing a group of God-heirs. Neither sounded particularly pleasant to deal with. Once he had his veil set in place, he crept out onto the rampart and walked around, drawing closer to the source of the tingle. He rolled his feet with every step, trying to avoid any sort of debris that might make a sound. He passed a set of barracks, revealing a small courtyard. He dropped to his stomach as soon as it came into sight. At the center of the courtyard stood a pair of sun-Path God-heirs¡ªthe golden halos behind their heads gave them away. They wore white vests and cumberbunds, and they carried straight sabers at their hips. Glade crawled into cover at the next wooden watchhouse on the ramparts¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t be able to see him with their bare eyes. He made it inside, controlling his breaths and holding his Arcara in place, but the two God-heirs started whispering and clamouring. One drew his saber¡ªGlade heard it hiss out of the scabbard. ¡°First the lapinn, now this? This was supposed to be our score!¡± said one. ¡°And now you say that First Lieutenant moth lady is headed our way? This was a bad idea!¡± Glade shut his eyes. He felt a pressure thrice the power of Ameena¡¯s. If she was here, and there were two other God-heirs¡­they must have been Second Lieutenant each. ¡°Well, just kill him!¡± one of the God-heirs snapped. Not good. Something screeched outside. Glade dove to the side¡ªjust in time for a beam of golden, concentrated sunlight to blast through the wooden wall where he had been hiding. He ripped the veil off his spirit and ran his hand down the fuller of his sword, conjuring a razor-thin wedge of Arcara along the blade. Another smaller beam of light blasted through the second half of the wooden hut, and it came too fast to dodge. He slashed his sword through the beam, using his Arcara to split the attack. It crashed around him like a wave, shredding the old wood around him and kicking up a cloud of wood chips, but the technique didn¡¯t hit him. But he wasn¡¯t the Mediator. He couldn¡¯t take on two Second Lieutenants at once. He sprinted out along the battlements, splitting and slashing a few more beams of concentrated sunlight. They melted the stone and seared through crenellations, leaving behind molten stone. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. One of the God-heirs leapt up onto the ramparts in front of Glade. Beams of yellow light swirled around the blade of his saber. It swished at Glade¡¯s head. Glade spun his sword, deflecting the man¡¯s blade into the ground, then leapt off the ramparts and down into the courtyard. On one side, the other God-heir closed in. He looked slightly older than the other, but they could have been close brothers, with their yellow-blonde hair. Glade didn¡¯t need to mess with them, either. They had set up camp in front of an armoury with heavy stone doors¡ªopen doors. The doors had runeic markings all over them. It was probably a locking mechanism of some kind. If he could get inside¡­ He sprinted across the courtyard, tucking his head down. He dodged and deflected beams of sunlight into the ground or the surrounding buildings, whirling his sword as he ran. He used a complex defensive pattern that the Order had drilled into him since he could lift a sword, but it protected all his vital points. He dove through the open doors of the armoury, then grabbed both halves and heaved them together. His Dawnspear body carried the bulk of the effort. The doors slammed together with a puff of dust, and he flooded the rune-lock with a stream of Arcara. It cycled through the runes of both doors, sealing them together. Panting, he leaned back against the sealed doors. The fortress¡¯ main armoury was a hall thrice his height and large enough to be a stable for a detachment of dragoons. Shelves and racks lined the walls, all filled with powder kegs, muskets, bayonets, sabers, and a few field cannons. Light filtered in through thin windows near the ceiling. At the back of the hall, there were a few mismatched weapons, stacked cleanly in rows. As he caught his breath and stood up, he gulped. The doors had been open, and this place had practically welcomed him in. There had to be a reason the two sun-Path God-heirs hadn¡¯t gone in. ¡°Ameena?¡± he called. Maybe she had holed up in here, setting a trap. Nothing. He held his sword ahead of him, ready to address any sort of threat he might find. When he reached the end of the hall, the floorboards hadn¡¯t even creaked. He walked back and forth in front of the weapons at the back of the hall. There was a hand-cannon for grapeshot and a few ornate sabers. Many of the weapons had rusted and crumbled over the years, turning into tiny little razors on the ground. Glade bent down, about to scoop them up into his pouch of metal filings, when he noticed a pale horn. A voidhorn. He picked it up. There was nothing special about it, save for a ring of starsteel engravings around the mouth, but it was about as heavy as a metal ingot. To his disappointment, when he pulled the leather cap off, there was nothing inside. But some of these weapons would be very valuable. A gold-starsteel mace hung a few feet above, and, controlling the voidhorn with a puff of Arcara, he drew the weapon inside. He also took a few daggers, and a musket made of Moulded Arcara. If nothing else, they could sell the weapons or trade them. But the moment he set his hand down on the hilt of a giant sword¡ªit was twice as thick as his longsword and a few feet longer, with a splayed tip and an empty cutout down the center¡ªa wind blasted through the armoury. There should have been wind anywhere in the greenhouse. The gale picked up all the flakes of rust and tiny razorblades. First, it whirled into a silver-red tornado at the center of the room, before condensing and taking the shape of a dog-sized, wingless dragon. Glade whirled around and pointed his own longsword at it. He let the giant sword fall back against the wall. The rusty dragon pranced forward in a flash and pounced. Glade raised his sword and wedged it into the creature¡¯s jaw. An image of the bookwyrm of the Mascant archives flashed through his mind¡ªthough this was more of a swordwyrm, it had the same general makeup. It even had eyes of darker rust flakes, staring right at him with their vertical slits. A swordwyrm would be drawn to armouries and blades, just like normal dragons were called to hordes of gold. But this one wasn¡¯t nearly as big as the bookwyrm had been. It must have been younger. Heaving the dog sized creature back and away, he held up his hands. ¡°Wait! I mean you no harm!¡± He held his sword out to the side in a gesture of friendliness, but the Arcara technique along the blade glinted. That could be seen as a threat. He swallowed nervously, then held out his pouch of metal filings. He dumped out a trickle of them as a peace offering. The swordwyrm inhaled them in a single breath. Then, it lowered its front legs and raised its haunches. Its reptilian tail wagged. ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Glade breathed. The swordwyrm pounced on him like a dog chasing after a stick, knocking him to the ground. It stretched out a metallic tongue and licked his cheek, and he feared that it¡¯d scrape all his skin away¡ªbut the particles of the tongue turned all their sharp points inwards. In a breathy voice, it uttered, ¡°Sword friend¡­sword friend!¡± Glade raised a hand and patted it on its head, careful not to slice his hand on any of the razorblades along its back. ¡°Uh¡­sword friend?¡± The dragon hopped off to the side, then pranced in a circle. ¡°Free? Walk? Walk far?¡± ¡°You¡­want to leave?¡± Glade asked. He¡¯d never heard of a wyrm wanting to abandon its horde before. ¡°Bigger horde. Want. More swords. Want. Not enough swords here.¡± Glade raised a hand and ran it through his hair. He groaned, then lowered his arms. ¡°You want out of here? I can get you out of here.¡± He just hoped the wyrm wasn¡¯t imprinting on him. ¡°Free?¡± the wyrm asked, its tail wagging. It trotted in a circle. ¡°Deal. We leave. You open doors. Then break boundary lines.¡± Before Glade could say anything else, the wyrm dematerialized into a puff of rust. It whistled through the air, then snapped onto the hilt of the giant sword like it had just been bound to a magnet. It wove around in complex patterns, turning into swirls on the sword¡¯s blade. Wyrms could be bound, he figured, and there was something keeing it here. Even with the doors open, it must not have been able to leave. He walked over to the sword and pointed his voidhorn out towards it, preparing to draw the weapon in. But there wasn¡¯t enough room in the horn for such a large weapon¡ªthe starsteel ring around the horn¡¯s mouth sputtered and sparked with Arcara, denying the weapon access. With a sigh, Glade heaved the sword up. ¡°Listen, wyrm. We need a way out of here. Can you help me fight those men outside? Or get me out?¡± As if in response, the sword slipped out of his hands. It fell to the floor, but instead of falling with a metallic clatter, it hovered on a bed of air. ¡°Help sword-friend. Will help! Sword-friend flies!¡± Glade took that as a ¡®yes.¡¯ Hesitantly, he stepped onto the floating giant sword. Chapter 47: Traitor [Volume 3] Vayra stepped into the main control room of the greenhouse. It was dim. The ceiling had been covered in boards and intertwined twigs, and the only light came from a complex formation of roots, where a bolt of vibrant green Arcara swirled around in a pattern. The entire room was round, but a glass wall still ran through the center, dividing the control room into an eastern and western half. In her spiritual sight, it was nearly as bright as the sun, and she had to look away. She couldn¡¯t pick out any obvious magical traps, so she deactivated her spiritual sight and relied only on her normal eyes. The entire floor was the same unbreakable glass as the center wall, and it allowed a view straight down through the control dome and to the ground floor of the greenhouse. She stepped hesitantly onto the floor, her body telling her not to, then spun around in a circle. All along the room¡¯s walls were sloping control panels with rune-lines, starsteel wires, and rudimentary mechanisms. She couldn¡¯t say what any of it did. ¡®Controlling some irrigation systems, communicating with the more sentient plants, sending orders to the ground-level workers,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®All via Arcara systems, of course.¡¯ But Vayra didn¡¯t need to know how that worked. She ran to the center of the room. She needed to drop the central wall and get out of here. She peered through the misty sheet. ¡°There has to be a way to drop it. You said there¡¯d be a way to cross it, and Larra wouldn¡¯t have trapped us with no way to get herself out.¡± Vayra ran her hand along the wall, feeling for gaps or abnormalities. At the precise center, her fingers slotted into a gap. A complex rune-lock made an ornate mandala in the glass. ¡®That¡¯s it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Fuel it, and the wall falls.¡¯ ¡°Seems like intense security.¡± ¡®Safety measures in case anything goes wrong in one half of the greenhouse.¡¯ Vayra set her hand against the bottom corner of the mandala and pushed mana and Arcara out into it. The channels of the rune began to fill up like water rising in an aquifer, but the more mana she put in, the more tiny, thread-like channels that hadn¡¯t been visible before appeared. Vayra barely filled up an eighth of the mandala before her willpower failed her. Her spirit didn¡¯t have enough strength to push the Arcara and mana through. The light dribbled out of the mandala and flowed back into her body. Panting, she slipped down to her knees. ¡°We¡¯re¡­not getting through that.¡± ¡®Not alone, and not without extra strength¡­¡¯ Vayra blinked. ¡°What do you¡ª¡± A set of hands slapped up against the glass on the other side of the glass wall. She took a step back in fright, before a face emerged out of the gloom of the other side of the room. It was rugged, scarred, but faintly kind. It was Nathariel. Captain Pels rushed to the man¡¯s side. He said something, but the glass muffled his voice. ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel yelled, his voice barely making it through the glass. Pels stepped away and plugged his ears. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She nodded. There was no way she¡¯d push her voice loud enough to pierce through the glass, even if she used a Bracing technique on her voice box. But where was Glade? She pointed to her hair, then at her white cloak, then mouthed, Where? ¡°He fell!¡± Nathariel shouted. He grimaced and looked down at the ground for a few seconds. ¡°He didn¡¯t make it! He¡¯s gone!¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. She swallowed, and her eyes began to sting. Something warm beaded in their corners, but she wiped her eyes and pushed the regret away. Now wasn¡¯t the time. Larra would be here any minute, and Vayra had to get out. ¡°We need the strength of two God-heirs to open the lock!¡± Nathariel yelled. ¡°Can you help me?¡± Again, Vayra nodded. Nathariel placed his hand at the top of the mandala on his side of the glass and pushed a wave of his own Arcara, with a flame-orange tint to it, into the lock. Vayra started at the bottom again, pushing up. Nathariel¡¯s power made it about a third of the way through the lock, and she made it a quarter of the way again, before both of their willpowers failed them. ¡®You need more pushing strength. You need the raw willpower and Arcara flow that the Mediator Form provides.¡¯ Vayra inhaled slowly. She could try, but she doubted she would¡ª Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Nathariel shouted out an incoherent warning. Vayra spun around. On the other side of the room, a silhouette appeared in the same doorway she¡¯d entered through. Watery cloak, long coat, three-part staff, and a wolf. Larra. ¡°Trapped, are we?¡± Larra let out a soft laugh. ¡°Then let¡¯s make this quick.¡± Myrrir and Tye stood on a ridge. Cannons flashed in the distance, muskets popped, and men and horses screamed. A bolt of lightning shot down from the clear sky¡ªNasyme¡¯s doing¡ªand blasts of other Arcara aspects shot off in the distance. The battle took place in the foothills, with the snow-capped mountains distant and the ground smooth. There were a few forests, but the bluecoats had assembled in an open field with a few hills, and that was where Nasyme¡¯s army met them. Myrrir laid down on a distant ridge, watching from a distance. The Moro-ka horsemen gathered, preparing for a final (and pointless) charge. The bluecoats had set up on a hill, and their battle-lines were thick¡ªand they had cannons to support them. It was suicide. While the horsemen prepared for a final charge, a skirmish lingered in the valley, still shrouded in smoke and burning debris. That was where Nasyme duelled the First Lieutenants. Myrrir waited until he had seen at least four different types of God-heirs. He¡¯d seen stone, wind, and sword-aspect so far. After a few more minutes, a tendril of wood chips sheared through the smoke, whipping around before snapping back towards Nasyme. That was four. If all the Elderworld God-heirs were all preoccupied with Nasyme, it meant the road was clear for him. Myrrir slipped down from the ridge and stood back up. ¡°Come on, old man,¡± he said. ¡°We need to keep moving while we still can.¡± ¡°Myrrir, you still have a choice. Go help him. Together, you would be strong enough.¡± Not when Myrrir barely had any mana in his system. ¡°No.¡± He turned away and kept walking, keeping the Stream firmly in his sights. A suicide charge? He still had so much to do. ¡°I am not throwing away a hundred years of advancement to help some backwater primitives kill themselves with honour¡ªor something like that.¡± ¡°You could return to the village and live out a peaceful life.¡± Myrrir shook his head. ¡°They hate me. I have no life there.¡± ¡°Then make amends. Explain yourself. Learn the language and customs, and¡ª¡± Myrrir kicked an especially tall clump of grass, then shut his eyes. ¡°No. This is traitorous talk. We still have a job to do, and I can push through it. There¡¯s no ¡®cleansing my channels¡¯. I¡¯m scarred, and only when I reach Godhood will my channels be repaired.¡± ¡°Myrrir¡­¡± Enough. He was tired of an old man¡¯s nagging and complaining, and he was about to threaten Tye with charges of mutiny, but he couldn¡¯t voice it. He opened his eyes and increased his pace. They¡¯d make it back to the port soon enough¡ªthe road was just ahead, clinging to the side of a hill before dipping into a patch of forest, but a contingent of mounted bluecoats and brown-coated officers waited on the road, sitting on horses. They had an excellent view of the battle, but they were also blocking the way. Myrrir mustered his seer-core and took stock of his resources. Arcara levels were stable, but he only had whispers of his mana left from the fight with the bandits at the village. It would be enough to plow through a small crowd of mortals if they caused any problems. Myrrir increased his pace until he reached the road, then lowered his head and marched onwards. The mounted bluecoats called out to him, demanding that he stop and identify himself. He didn¡¯t stop, but he did yell, ¡°I only want to pass along this road. Let me and the old man through.¡± There were about ten bluecoats. A few of them moved their horses to the side, and one of the Elderworld officers called out, instructing them to let Myrrir and Tye through¡ªthey already had one battle to oversee. But the officer furthest to the back raised his hand. ¡°You two, halt.¡± Myrrir spared a glance up. It was Commander Neule. He wore a pristine tricorn hat and a powdered wig, and Myrrir barely recognized him. Maybe he would have forgotten Myrrir¡¯s face as well. ¡°Mercenaries,¡± Neule said. ¡°Did you¡­think I would forget your faces?¡± Apparently not. Myrrir sighed. ¡°You failed me,¡± said the Commander, ¡°and you are trying to leave?¡± ¡°Myrrir¡­¡± Tye hissed. ¡°Turn back. You have every sign, every reason. Stop this.¡± ¡°Seize them!¡± Neule shouted to his guards. Myrrir whipped his hand out, flinging an incoherent, cannonball-sized mass of gunpowder at Commander Neule¡¯s head. It tore the air and blasted a few of the guards aside, before smashing through Neule¡¯s head with a boom. The rest of his body slumped down, falling off the side of the horse in a bloody heap. All the other officers stepped back, drawing pistols or sabers. Myrrir ripped his jade sword out of its sheath and pointed it at the nearest officer. ¡°Any of the guards take a single step, and I swear on the Stream, I¡¯ll rip his head off too.¡± In truth, he didn¡¯t want to. It¡¯d just hurt his channels more. But to make the threat real, he called his gunpowder back to his hand. ¡°Stand down!¡± the officer hissed. The bluecoats lifted their muskets and uncocked them. ¡°Apologies¡­sir. What do you want from us?¡± ¡°I already told you,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°I just want to pass.¡± ¡°Go, then,¡± the officer said, motioning with his hand. His fingers were trembling. ¡°Wait!¡± another officer called. ¡°Tellisse, how are we going to explain the¡­Commander¡¯s death?¡± The first officer gulped. Myrrir glanced back between him and Tye. Tye opened his mouth to speak again, but Myrrir had finally had enough. He grabbed Tye by the back of the neck and pushed him towards the officer. ¡°Here¡¯s your assassin. Take him. Do whatever you want. I don¡¯t need him anymore.¡± ¡°Myrrir!¡± Tye snapped. He spun around, his face a mixture of shock and rage. ¡°What are you doing? Think about¡ª¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Take him.¡± Without waiting around to see what the officers would do, Myrrir walked away¡ªalone. The guards seized Tye, no matter the old man¡¯s thrashing and kicking. Once Myrrir made it into the trees, he sheathed his sword and returned his gunpowder to his powder flask. He had a ship to return to and a tournament to enter, and nothing¡ªand no one¡ªcould hold him back anymore. Chapter 48: Backed Into A Corner [Volume 3] ¡°I¡¯ll hand it to you, girl,¡± Larra spat. ¡°You¡¯ve made my job more difficult than it¡¯s ever been before. This chase has been more than enjoyable! But it¡¯s time to put it to an end.¡± ¡°Phas, scythe,¡± Vayra whispered, giving up control of her mechanical hand. The scythe began to form. She had everything she needed. Mana, Arcara, and techniques. But if she couldn¡¯t make it to Captain, Larra would win. Larra sprinted forwards, her boots ripping up the floorboards behind her. Vayra ducked to the side, letting Larra¡¯s staff smash into the glass. Cracks spread across the wall, threatening to shatter the mandala lock, but they didn¡¯t touch it. But neither of them could afford to let the wall take any more hits like that, unless they wanted to be trapped here forever. Vayra dove between Larra¡¯s legs and rolled to her feet on the other side of the hulking woman. She swept the still-forming scythe back at Larra, trying to cut the woman¡¯s ankles. Larra raised a foot and kicked Vayra in the chest, sending her flying across the room. Vayra smashed into a wall of control panels. The wood cracked beneath her, and a shower of loose panels from the roof fell onto her. She rolled to the side to avoid a swipe from Larra¡¯s three-part staff, then pushed herself up. The scythe had formed entirely, now, and she was ready to fight. Larra spun around to face Vayra, twirling her staff at her side. ¡°I thought you were trying to take me alive,¡± Vayra grunted, brushing wood chips off her shoulder. She unclasped her cloak and let it roll off her shoulders. She¡¯d need to be at her very best performance, and a cloak would just get in the way. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what a First Lieutenant can survive without,¡± Larra sneered. She threw her own cloak off, then pulled her coat off too. ¡°If we¡¯re getting serious.¡± Vayra took stock of the situation. They stood in the center of their half of the control room. Vayra had her back to the central wall again, and Larra had her back to the guardsmen¡¯s room. Straining her eyes, Vayra examined the glob of elixir outside¡ªthe only thing keeping the trap from going off. The elixir had dimmed to a quarter of its previous brightness. Any moment, the trap would trigger, and a guardian golem would charge out of the walls. Larra spun her staff down along the floor, ripping up debris and floorboards. Vayra threw out a Starlight Palm to blast the debris away, then another to knock the staff aside. Her attack worked. The little palm strike deflected the staff just enough that it didn¡¯t smash down on her shoulder¡ªthat wouldn¡¯t have worked before reaching First Lieutenant. Gnasher, Larra¡¯s wolf, charged up from the other direction. Phason¨¦ uttered a faint warning, and Vayra struck the beast with the blunt end of her scythe, sending it tumbling back across the room, before circling the blade around and sweeping the white-hot head at Larra, forcing her back as well. Larra ran her hand through her wolf¡¯s watery mane, and the power radiating off of her surged. With the help of Gnasher¡¯s tooth, she boosted herself straight to an Admiral. ¡°No more messing around. One last chance: surrender, and I¡¯ll make this painless.¡± Vayra glanced over her shoulder. Nathariel and Pels were watching. ¡°Not a chance am I going with you willingly,¡± Vayra said. She and Phason¨¦ flourished the scythe like they had practiced a hundred times before, then met Larra in a bind. Vayra Braced her arms, then let the white light expand and seep down across her shoulders. It burst into white flame, and she pushed it even further until the Astral Shroud erupted over her entire body. She bashed a flurry of strikes into Larra¡¯s staff, then flashed to the other side in a blink of an eye and tried to drive another gash into the woman¡¯s back. Even as an Admiral, Larra couldn¡¯t keep up with the raw speed of the Shroud. The scythe left a thin gash down Larra¡¯s back. It would have cut a normal human in two, but the woman¡¯s hardened skin resisted the blade, and her flesh was like stone. Phason¨¦ shouted a faint warning, and so did Nathariel, but the Vayra couldn¡¯t fight back against Larra and Gnasher¡¯s combined onslaught. She blocked wolf jaws and ducked under staff swipes, she dodged and deflected, yet no matter how slippery she made herself, all it took was one swipe. The tip of Larra¡¯s staff bashed into Vayra¡¯s chest, and she barely had enough time to push a shield into her chest before the force of the blow flung her back across the room. She skidded to a halt in the hallway between the control room and the guardsmen¡¯s room. The elixir in the trap barely twinkled, now. A pulse of Arcara seeped through the root, and the wall in front of the golem shifted. She needed more time to prepare. She needed to reach Captain. Using the haft of her scythe as a crutch, she pushed herself to her feet, feigning that she was ready to keep fighting. Larra let out an enraged shout, then tucked her head and barreled towards Vayra. When Larra was only feet away, Vayra used the Shroud¡¯s speed to drop to the ground and push herself flat against the wall. She flashed out of the way, and Larra sprinted past harmlessly. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The woman ran straight into the guardsmen¡¯s room¡ªand just in time for the trap to trigger. A golem spilled out of the wall and lumbered towards Larra, swinging its fists around. Vayra jumped back to her feet and sprinted back into the control room. She fed mana into a panel just beside the doorway, and a thick wooden sheet slid into place between the guardsmen¡¯s room and the control room. It wouldn¡¯t keep Larra out normally, but if the god-heir was preoccupied with a golem, she wouldn¡¯t be able to spare the time opening the door. Vayra deactivated her techniques and ran to the center of the control room. She sat down cross-legged and shut her eyes. ¡°Phas, we need to hit Captain. It¡¯s now or never.¡± ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel yelled through the glass. ¡°You and your Path are one and the same. Think about what you are, and the revelation will be easier!¡± She held her hands out. A boom ripped through the air from the other room. Larra would destroy the golem in minutes. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about the future or the past,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®You are not who you once were, and you can choose who you will be.¡¯ Vayra did her best to meditate, clearing her mind and searching for answers. This minor enlightenment needed to come faster. Glade pressed his foot down on the tip of the giant floating sword, angling it down. The swordwyrm, controlling aspects of both sword and air Arcara, lifted the blade. When Glade angled it, it began to move. It slipped through the air, slow and hesitant at first, until he found his balance. Holding his arms out, he pushed the blade down to the end of the armoury. The big stone doors blocked the entrance, but glowing golden light seeped through. The two God-heirs outside were trying to break it down. Before he reached the doors, he hopped off the blade with a stumble. Something had been keeping it trapped in here, and he needed to disable it. Just in front of the armoury¡¯s sliding doors, a small seal of runes had been carved into the floor. It barely glowed, but there was still a touch of mana in it. He bent over it, and though he was no expert on runes, it definitely wasn¡¯t the strongest seal. Either the swordwyrm would have become strong enough to overcome it in a few years, or the mana would eventually have faded from the loop. But he didn¡¯t tell the swordwyrm that. ¡°I break this seal,¡± he said, looking directly at the wyrm, ¡°and you help me defeat them. Understand?¡± The swordwyrm angled itself and shook side-to-side, as if wagging its hilt. ¡°That better be a ¡®yes¡¯,¡± Glade muttered. Then, he drew a tendril of metal filings out of his pouch with his Reach technique and blasted it across the seal. It scoured away the edges and defiled the calligraphic scripts, and the little mana that was left in it flooded off into the air. Then, walking side-by-side with the swordwyrm, Glade approached the armoury¡¯s main door. He drew his own mana and Arcara back out of the lock by placing his finger in it, then heaved the two stone doors apart. Immediately, bolts of concentrated sunlight rushed into the armoury, searing anything past the entrance with their enormous heat. The swordwyrm floated upright and deflected one with its blade before it hit Glade, and Glade sliced through another with the Arcara-enhanced cutting edge of his own sword. Before any more blasts could surge towards him, he flung his tendril of metal filings out at the nearest God-heir. The blast caught the man in the chest, shredding his vest and the skin beneath, and flinging him back across the courtyard outside. Glade sprinted out into the open, where the God-heirs couldn¡¯t pin him with ranged attacks. They seemed to specialize in that, but if he could get up close¡­ The swordwyrm followed him. He half expected it to take off once it was out in the open, but it stayed. It deflected two more blasts of golden light before clattering to the ground. Glade poured his mana reserves into his Dawnspear body and sprang across the courtyard, trying to reach the God-heir he¡¯d already hit. The man stumbled back again, trying to create distance. He used a Bracing technique¡ªor at least, he started one¡ªbut Glade led with a low swipe, slashing across the man¡¯s ankle and using the Arcara in his sword to disrupt the technique. The man fell onto his back, rage in his eyes. He pulled his arm back, trying to conjure another technique, but Glade drove his sword through the man¡¯s neck before the technique could fire. The other God-heir pulled his arm back. A sphere of light formed in his hands, as bright as the sun. Glade wouldn¡¯t be able to deflect such a highly-charged technique, and he had no cover to hide behind. The swordwyrm popped back up, ready to honour its half of the deal, but Glade doubted the blade would last long against it either. He winced, readying himself to take a hit¡ªor worse¡ªbut before the God-heir could let off the technique, a hailstorm of wood chips and sawdust rained down on him. It shredded him into a pulp, swirling around and ripping through flesh. The half-formed ball of sunlight burst apart into harmless sparks as the sun-Path God-heir collapsed, gurgling and screaming. After a few seconds, he stopped moving entirely. A downdraft blasted the dust and debris out of the center of the courtyard. Wings fluttered softly, and a shadow descended onto the courtyard. Glade craned his neck upward. Wren descended, her wings fluttering like a giant cape. She threw an unconscious body down onto the ground. It skidded across the ground and came to a stop beside Glade. Ameena. He backed up. The swordwyrm floated over to his side, hovering just off his shoulder like a shield. ¡°I figure I¡¯ll take the loot of this fortress as my prize now!¡± Wren laughed, dropping down to a crouch in the center of the courtyard. ¡°I thought you were dead, though! Should¡¯ve expected this much. Should¡¯ve expected one of Nathariel¡¯s disciples to live through a fall, though.¡± ¡°You should have killed me first,¡± Glade said. He crouched down beside Ameena, feeling for a pulse in her neck. She was still alive, but barely. ¡°I¡¯d rather save the weakest for last,¡± Wren sneered, tilting her head toward Ameena. Then, she drew her weapon¡ªa short musket with an axehead in place of a bayonet¡ªand walked towards him. Wood chips and dust swirled around her legs. ¡°I¡¯ll make you suffer real well, and that¡¯ll teach Nathariel not to abandon his apprentices again!¡± Third Lieutenant against a First Lieutenant? At least he had the swordwyrm with him. He held his sword out in front of him, then leaned towards the swordwyrm and whispered, ¡°I will give you a treat if we live.¡± The swordwyrm wagged its hilt in agreement. Glade charged. Chapter 49: Brute-Slayer [Volume 3] Vayra tugged herself into her corespace to give herself more time¡ªand to remove any outside pressures. It didn¡¯t help when Nathariel and Pels were staring straight at her, begging her to find the revelation she needed. But now, sitting at the center of her corespace, in the doorway of the simple cabin, she had to contend with Phason¨¦ and Adair. The Goddess paced in circles in front of Vayra, and Adair curled up in her lap, purring and letting off a soft mewl. It was hardly meditation. ¡°Emptying your head won¡¯t help you find insights,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to do,¡± Vayra said. She tried to keep her eyes shut and her legs crossed beneath her, but it was impossible to concentrate now. She almost wished she had her old core, with an empty, blank void¡ªwhere outside time stalled almost completely. Then, she¡¯d have all the time she needed to reach an insight. ¡°You don¡¯t reach an insight in an empty void,¡± Phason¨¦ said. She walked over and sat down behind Vayra. ¡°The strongest impulse for advancement is fear and desperation.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve got plenty of that.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°Phas, if I don¡¯t do this, it¡¯s not just me who¡ª¡± ¡°I know.¡± Phason¨¦ rested her chin on Vayra¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m counting on¡ªno, that¡¯s not good enough. I believe in you.¡± Vayra exhaled slowly and opened her eyes. She inched back until she was sitting side-by-side with Phason¨¦. They looked through the doorway of the little cabin, watching out across the starlit core. There wasn¡¯t much to see¡ªuntil Adair scrambled off her lap and down into the fields of pagwart. It was too peaceful. Her heart was still racing from the encounter with Larra, and from knowing that they would fight again. But she tried to take Nathariel¡¯s advice anyway. She tried to think about herself¡ªwhat she was. Half-phoenix, Discarded, Mediator who had an immense duty thrust onto her¡­ But would you go back? Phason¨¦ thought. It was directed right at Vayra. ¡°Never.¡± Vayra crossed her arms in defiance. Only in these past few months had she ever felt truly alive. Truly meaningful. ¡°There¡¯s something to strive for. Not just going meal-to-meal, doing the same thing over and over again.¡± But she didn¡¯t suppose that mattered to Phason¨¦. The Goddess had lived for centuries. She probably had so many memories that it all blurred into one. ¡°You¡¯re half correct,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°God-heirs, when we¡¯re working towards our Godhood, tend to get so wrapped up in advancement. The years blur into decades, and even centuries, and it¡¯s barely living. We stumble from tribulation to trial to cycling chamber and advancement ritual, not really feeling anything. Even if it was only for a few months, I have never felt more alive than I do now, spending my time here with you. And I wouldn¡¯t have wanted it to be with anyone else.¡± Vayra stood up slowly, careful not to push Phason¨¦ off too violently. ¡°But¡­I know what I am. Who I am is more important, isn¡¯t it?¡± Phason¨¦ nodded. ¡°Just you being the Mediator didn¡¯t instantly make me care about you.¡± Vayra caught an underlying whiff of emotion from that word care, but she couldn¡¯t pinpoint it. She probably couldn¡¯t say what half of her own feelings meant, though. ¡°You said something once, about how I was selfish, and that¡¯s it.¡± Vayra winced. ¡°I¡¯m worried that¡¯s who I am.¡± ¡°Why did you come all the way out here? Why keep going once you saved your brother?¡± That was a simple answer. ¡°Because I wanted to see the sights I never could before.¡± ¡°And why advance so far?¡± ¡°Because this stupid war was ruining it all.¡± Vayra took a step out of the little shed and walked down the slope of the corespace¡¯s central hill. Phason¨¦ trailed behind her. ¡°If I didn¡¯t put an end to it, all my favourite sights would be ruined before I could see them.¡± She stopped halfway down the slope. ¡°And the kausisia¡¯s visions seemed to agree with me¡ªor they thought the best way to show me my future was to tempt me with the destruction of the natural world.¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled. ¡°The kausisia doesn¡¯t have sapience. It doesn¡¯t decide what to show you. It taps into the Stream and looks into the patterns. It senses Fate and shows you a possible future.¡± She grabbed Vayra¡¯s hand and held it gently. ¡°Just because you want something doesn¡¯t make it evil.¡± Vayra turned around, but she didn¡¯t pull away. ¡°Do you believe in fate, Phas? In destiny?¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°At my Emissary level, I could only take glimpses into the Stream and judge possible futures. But there are so many possible destinies, and it¡¯s impossible to pick one out of the infinite. Everything you do has such far-reaching implications that the mind can¡¯t even fathom it¡ªeven if you develop a Bracing technique for your soul and enhance your mind beyond all possibilities.¡± ¡°So¡­¡± ¡°So I figure it¡¯s best to glimpse possible futures and make what we can out of it. There may be billions of possibilities, but only one ever happens. In essence, we do what we can, and the cards fall how we make them. We change what we can, and we face destiny with our chins held high.¡± Vayra turned her gaze back out across the pond, watching the slowly shifting starlight and ripples on the surface of the water. Flecks of mana and Arcara flowed through the air, following wisps and patterns¡ªshe was cycling outside the core, and energy was passing through it. I can change things. Vayra¡¯s consciousness was inside the core, but something stirred. It was just a tug, as if her core wanted to expand outwards and her channels wanted to be remade. She tried to cling to it, but it faded. ¡°Close,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°We¡¯re almost at the revelation.¡± Adair walked a figure-eight between Vayra¡¯s legs, rubbing up against her shins and brushing her with his tail. She bent down and brushed her hands through his fur, just hoping to feel the calming softness. But more than a wave of calm, he radiated a touch of spiritual energy. It flushed through her channels and up to her mind, washing through with calming clarity. She hadn¡¯t realized her fingers were shaking until they stopped. ¡°Was that you?¡± Vayra whispered. Adair meowed softly. ¡°Vayra, you say you had reasons for pushing yourself, and that may be true,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°But I need you to look deeper. No one makes it as far as you did that fast without something else.¡± ¡°Something else?¡± ¡°A deeper drive to climb. When you look at yourself and strive to be more.¡± Vayra chewed her lip for a few seconds. ¡°To be better?¡± ¡°Not necessarily.¡± More. Phason¨¦ radiated a simple memory: she sat alone in an empty, tall hall. The walls were made of pale marble with ridges of pulsing, Moulded Arcara interspersed. There were holes and windows, but never any glass in them¡ªit let in a cold wind. A woman sat at the end of the hall on a clear glass throne. Her hair was white, and she wore a plain, pale robe. ¡°Mother,¡± Phason¨¦ had said. ¡°Why? Why keep me here?¡± She was kneeling in front of the woman. ¡°How many of my children would seek to abandon our family¡¯s Paths?¡± the woman demanded. ¡°I have already lost Talock to his plants. Now you seek to craft your own Path and develop a Godly authority over starlight?¡± ¡°I want to live outside your shadow. I will bring our family more glory.¡± The memory cut off. Phason¨¦ blushed¡ªthe memory must not have been shared consciously. But Vayra knew what she had to do. ¡°I advance because I don¡¯t want to be abandoned anymore. I advance because I don¡¯t want to be a useless little Discarded who people pity and scoff at. I want to be a hero. There. That¡¯s why.¡± A wave of relief rolled off Phason¨¦. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°More, not better.¡± My Path is me. ¡°Sometimes the two go hand in hand.¡± Phason¨¦ walked a circle around Vayra and stopped when she was right in front of it. ¡°You want it. Now believe it. You¡¯ve come so far. Don¡¯t just choose to think about it. Know what you are, know your Path, and you¡¯ll have your revelation.¡± Vayra pulled herself out of the corespace. As the little inner world faded, flashes ran through her mind. Her friends, her mentors, all the planets in the galaxy who needed her, and all the Gods who needed to be sent back to where they came from. When Vayra¡¯s consciousness emerged from the corespace, she opened her eyes. Behind her, on the other side of the glass wall, two guardian golems had emerged, and Nathariel was fighting them. On her side, the door to the guardsmen¡¯s outpost door began to slide open. Larra was pulling it open, fighting against the mana Vayra had used to seal it¡ªand winning. The thick sheet of wood slid to the side, groaning and shuddering, revealing a trashed chamber behind. The trap golem¡¯s chunks had been scattered all through the room, but it had done its job. As Larra forced the door open, Vayra stood up. She knew exactly what to say. ¡°I can matter. I can make a difference. I am the Godscourge.¡± Her soul swelled and her willpower automatically expanded outward through her body. Her core sent a pang of energy all the way through her channels, before begging her to suck all the Arcara and mana back into it. She obeyed. Her energies didn¡¯t just fill the core; they fuelled it and expanded it. They disintegrated into sparks. A wave of force blasted off her body, scouring dust and splinters off the floor. The walls cracked and the control panels splintered, and even Larra, who was now outputting the strength of an Admiral, was pushed back. ¡°You think that will save you?¡± Larra exclaimed. ¡°Even if we were at the same stage, you¡¯d still lose!¡± A torrent of wind and white sparks absorbed Vayra. She couldn¡¯t see outside it, but she didn¡¯t need to. Her body was remaking itself, refining itself. It expelled a faint sludge of impurities, which evaporated and faded away in the vortex of sparks. The purpose she had crafted for herself before was now hammered into her very form. Body, soul, core. Her channels became more slippery, better for conducting Arcara quickly. Her body stayed lean and fast, and her soul¡ªthe source of willpower¡ªturned firm. She envisioned it as a small marble at the top of her neck. The lines of red feathers along her body peered through the skin, accenting every angle but never overtaking her skin entirely. Her scars faded, and everything seemed to reshape itself¡ªnot turning her into a different person, but an enhanced version of what she had been before. The swirling sparks faded out of the air. Vayra knelt in the center of the floor. Her muscles vibrated, her mind raced, and everything twitched, ready to be used. She was a brute-slayer, and a brute stood right in front of her. Chapter 50: You or Me [Volume 3] Glade compensated for his disadvantages in magical strength with an onslaught of attacks. He¡¯d fought Wren before. He knew if he could keep her on the back foot, he could keep the fight in his favour until he wore her down and won. He spun his longsword back and forth, hacking at Wren and pushing her across the courtyard. She blocked with the blade of her axe-musket, which she guarded with a sheath of wood chips and sawdust, or simply deflected his blade with whips of sawdust. The swordwyrm fought beside Glade, hacking and slashing without a pattern or precision. Neither of them landed a hit. When they reached the edge of the courtyard and Wren¡¯s wings brushed up against the wall behind her, she smirked. ¡°Nice try, but you never stood a chance. Not even with your little friend.¡± She flicked a spike of wood out to the side, which struck the flat of the swordwyrm¡¯s blade and sent it tumbling across the courtyard. At the same time, she smashed Glade in the chest with a palm-strike. He called his wisps of metal filings up, but he couldn¡¯t use any Ward techniques without tearing his own body apart. He only managed to deflect the strike a little and redirect some of its strength into his shoulder instead of his ribs. He still tumbled through the air and skidded back across the courtyard. Wren raised her short musket and fired. This time, she had loaded pellets of rusty grapeshot into it. The swordwyrm jumped in front of Glade, blocking the majority of the blast with its thick fuller. A few pellets made it past still, though. One blasted him in the arm, and another scraped his ribs. Glade leapt to his feet. She¡¯d brought rusty grapeshot. Had she been looking for something to hurt Vayra with? ¡°It¡¯s a real shame. You¡¯ve always put up a good fight!¡± Wren cheered. ¡°But I¡¯ll be picking off Nathariel¡¯s disciples, now! Maybe if you hadn¡¯t thrown your chips in with the wrong side, we¡¯d have been good friends.¡± Glade raised his eyebrows. ¡°Unlikely.¡± Elder Eman-Fa had often told Glade to be picky with women¡ªand to stay as far away from crazy as he could. ¡°Oh, well! You first, then the flame-birdy!¡± Wren flipped her musket over in her hands and held it like a regular battle axe now. ¡°You¡¯re not getting through me,¡± Glade said. He didn¡¯t know how far Vayra had made it while they were separate, but he wasn¡¯t taking any chances. He ripped a second mana elixir off his belt and downed it, letting a new burst of pushing-power fill his channels. He flourished his longsword, then held up a glob of metal filings above his left hand. It was all he had left. The swordwyrm floated in the air beside him, its tip angled at Wren. It let off a metallic growl. ¡°Good boy,¡± Glade whispered. Wren flung her arm outwards, launching a trio of wooden needles. Glade hacked one out of the air, and the swordwyrm blocked two more. She lashed out with a blast of sawdust, and although Glade cut through it, it exerted a pressure on his sword. He skidded back a few feet. Wren attacked from a distance, flinging more shards of sharp wood out from her sleeves or from her belt. Eventually, she¡¯d run out of larger shards, but she summoned up the chunks and sawdust and splinters and turned them into whips. Glade circled around the edge of the courtyard, trying to push his way in, but he couldn¡¯t. Wren had low spirit potential, just like him, but she¡¯d have stocked up on mana before the battle, and she had the best elixirs money could buy¡ªshe was a princess of a silk-spinning empire. Glade would run out before she did. They needed to get close again. ¡°Distract,¡± he commanded the swordwyrm. ¡°To the left.¡± The swordwyrm had a basic enough ability to speak and understand. It dipped off to the left, tip still pointed at Wren. It raced towards her as fast as an arrow, and she focussed all her attacks on it. The blade wobbled, and chucks of rust flew off the hilt, before she finally lodged a wooden stake in the central gap down the blade¡¯s fuller and pinned the wyrm to the ground. It shook and bucked, but it couldn¡¯t rip free from her control. But it had done all it needed. Glade had closed the distance with five long steps, holding his longsword high. He slammed it down at Wren¡¯s head, then blasted a spear of metal filings through her shoulder and wing. Any second, he expected her to jump up and fly, but she didn¡¯t. Either she was too exhausted, or too injured¡­and he suspected he knew which it was. The tip of one of her wings was charred and blackened. She might have been able to glide down into the courtyard, but she wasn¡¯t taking off again. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°We will try that again,¡± Glade said. ¡°It is you or me.¡± Vayra dove to the side. A knife of water sloshed over her head and splashed into the wall behind her. It broke apart with a splash. Gnasher tackled her midair, pushing her across the room and into a control panel. He tried to bite into her shoulder, but she struck his muzzle with a Starlight Palm and sent him staggering off in a circle. Vayra tried to activate the Astral Shroud, but she just didn¡¯t have enough mana and Arcara in her body after the advancement. The technique sputtered out before it even began. Larra flashed across the room, slamming her three-part staff down towards Vayra¡¯s head. Vayra rolled to the side. The wind in the staff¡¯s wake nearly flattened her to the panel, but she slipped down and rolled past Larra. ¡°Captain or not, you can¡¯t stand against me!¡± Larra shouted. ¡®Not without mana or Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Buy time.¡¯ Vayra sprinted across the room, putting as much distance between herself and Larra as she could. She hopped up onto a sloped panel halfway down the wall, getting as high as she could¡ªand immersing herself in as much ambient mana as she could. The glowing flecks whirled in front of her eyes and filled her channels, but only wisps at a time. It was nowhere near as effective as immersing herself in Stream water. And Larra wasn¡¯t just going to let her stand still and recover. She charged across the room, reaching for Vayra¡¯s mechanical foot. Vayra jumped off the shelf, but with her full-body Bracing technique active, Larra was a bit faster. She grabbed Vayra¡¯s foot and tossed her to the ground. Winded, Vayra rolled to the side. There was no time to think. She drove a Starlight Palm into Larra¡¯s ankle, making the woman stumble, then sprang to her feet. Sprinting, she ran to the other side of the room and continued to absorb mana from the rich air. She didn¡¯t use a cycling technique just yet. She needed to fill her reserves. Mana poured into her channels and pooled in her core. Now that she was a Captain, her core felt like it had twice the capacity it usually did. The mana pooled, ready to be used. She held it in place and kept gathering it. Larra chased Vayra around the room, but she was too nimble. Sprinting, jumping, dodging, Vayra wouldn¡¯t let herself be hit, and Larra¡¯s current speed advantage (Vayra hadn¡¯t activated any techniques, but Larra had Braced her legs) meant nothing when Vayra could swing under panels and spin aside like she was jumping through the alleyways of Tavelle. Once she had filled her core nearly two thirds of the way full of ambient mana, she stopped on the opposite end of the room from Larra. ¡°Fight me, vermin!¡± Larra shouted. ¡°If you have any honour at all, face me, toe-to-toe, and we¡¯ll see who comes out on top!¡± Halfway through the chase, Larra had dropped back down to Captain. She must have had enough sense to realize that Vayra was evading everything, and she didn¡¯t have the agility¡ªAdmiral or not¡ªto deal with it. ¡°Karmion picked the wrong heir to send against me,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Gimme one moment.¡± She tried to keep the exhaustion out of her voice, but it was hard not to pant. Adrenaline kept her going for the most part, but there was still a voice nagging her, telling her to collapse and fall asleep. Larra must have sensed false confidence. She patted Gnasher¡¯s head, and her spirit swelled to the strength of a Commodore. This time, Vayra felt it right away. It was a pressure right in front of her, like she¡¯d pushed her head too far underwater¡ªbut it only came from one direction. The tingle in the back of her head was still there, of course, yet this pressure had a specific pattern. It shook with a distinct frequency that could only have belonged to a Commodore. Vayra almost had everything she needed. Instead of converting her newly-gathered mana to Arcara through rigorous cycling, she had another solution. She summoned an elixir from her corespace¡ªone of the incredibly refined, top-grade elixirs she¡¯d found in the control dome itself¡ªand ripped the cork off. With a single swig, she downed a quarter of the bottle¡­ And regretted it. Yellow energy burned through the channels in her body, visible even beneath her physical skin¡ªand without any spiritual sight. Larra threw her staff across the room, letting it spin on a horizontal plane. Vayra barely had the wit to duck down to the ground. She drew in quick breaths and exerted a firm willpower to maintain the elixir purification cycling technique. The staff embedded itself into the wooden wall behind Vayra, shaking with a metallic twang. Vayra looked back at it and gulped. Larra sprinted towards her, throwing a punch at her face. Vayra arched her back further than she would have been able to pre-advancement, then spun to the side to dodge the snapping jaws of Gnasher. The elixir burned in her channels like fire, and it flowed with such violent strength that it threatened to rip them apart. But it was pure. It was almost already Arcara. She just needed to draw out the energy and integrate it. Using her mana, she directed it into thin strips and pushed it through her channels. A pang of spiritual pain shot through her body, but she could take it. While dodging a few more punches and Gnasher¡¯s swiping claws, she pulled the elixir under control. The moment she had enough Arcara to Brace her legs, she did. She launched herself to the other side of the room, then finished integrating the sip of elixir. ¡°Fight me! Just fight me!¡± Larra yelled. ¡°I didn¡¯t say I was ready.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. The elixir she¡¯d converted was barely enough to fill the bottom sliver of her core with Arcara, but once upon a time, it¡¯d have been enough energy to carry her from Mate all the way to Master¡¯s Mate. It was enough to fight back with. She pushed the simple Bracing technique on her legs harder, and with a snap, it burst into the Astral Shroud. Everything became clearer. ¡°Now I¡¯m ready.¡± Chapter 51: Last Push [Volume 2] Vayra unleashed her full arsenal. She drew her pistol from her belt and fired a beam of light through it. The new pistol conducted the power of her Arcara better, and when it passed the opening, it bulged, surging with even more strength¡ªthe rune-ring enhanced it. The light screamed across the room. Larra jumped to the side, avoiding the beam by inches. Vayra held the technique. She maintained a straight line of power and swept it to the side. It seared through the panels and branches of the wall behind, and it moved faster than Larra. The woman stomped her foot down, then, with her staff, smashed through the beam of light, scattering it and dispelling the technique. Some of the Arcara that Vayra had used scattered, but she called the rest back to her. Larra sprinted towards her, head tucked. Water-Arcara swirled around her body in veins, a full-body Bracing technique. Gnasher bounded along behind, and he shared the technique. Larra was enhancing both of them. Not to mention exerting the power of an Admiral. When the two arrived, Vayra unleashed the power of the Astral Shroud. She flashed around to the other side of Larra and pummelled her with well-placed, fast Starlight Palms. They burst out seemingly at once, leaving searing white handprints in the air wherever Vayra struck. They detonated with a boom, sending Larra stumbling. Gnasher opened his jaw, moving to pin her with his claws. Sharing the Bracing technique, he was faster than she remembered. When his claws raced through the air in front of her nose, they snapped together with an enormous boom. Vayra conjured the scythe. Now that she was a Captain, it appeared faster than she was used to. In a blink, the haft had snapped into existence. She wedged it into Gnasher¡¯s jaw. As the blade formed, she twisted, knocking Gnasher off to the side. Larra was brushing herself off and turning back to the battle, but Vayra threw the scythe at her. The Moulded, searing Arcara whirled through the air, spinning and whistling, and the blade nearly sliced right through Larra¡¯s stomach. Larra swatted it down to the ground before it did any damage, but Vayra followed it with another blast of her pistol¡ªthe beam blasted her right in the center of her chest. She raised a shield of water to block it. Freshwater evaporated into mist and steam. Larra wrenched the gasses back under her control and used them to refuel the shield. Vayra cut off the beam before she wasted any more Arcara. She readied herself for a counter attack, but before Larra could leap in, Gnasher charged from the side. He caught Vayra¡¯s right shoulder in his jaw, right at the brink between her mechanical arm and the flesh, and forced her to the ground. His teeth sank into flesh and shattered the outer panels of the upper arm. Vayra held back a scream. In an instant, Phason¨¦ shared a plan with her through their mental link. It would have to work. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost slipped out of Vayra¡¯s body, and their hands brushed together. Vayra transferred a pulse of mana, and Phason¨¦ used it to empower her ghostly form. With the little wisp of mana, she punched the wolf in the muzzle. It let go of Vayra¡¯s arm. Phason¨¦ punched it again, and the wolf tumbled across the room. Jumping to her feet, Vayra prepared herself to face the next onslaught. ¡°So much for getting rid of the scars¡­¡± she muttered. Phason¨¦ had run out of mana, and her physical form disintegrated, rushing back into Vayra. ¡®Then stop taking hits.¡¯ Larra unleashed a heavy barrage of staff swipes, and she even mixed in a few blasts of water. Her staff bent and twisted as required¡ªthe strand of freshwater flowing through it manipulated the staff¡¯s three sections. Vayra blocked and dodged, but each swipe was fast and powerful. Vayra used every tool she had, from shields to scythes to simple pulses of starlight. Larra bashed the pistol out of her hand, then struck her mechanical arm. A shard of the wooden outer layer bent inwards, wedging into the elbow joint and stiffening it. Vayra tried to block or deflect with the scythe, but each strike hit too hard. Her elbows threatened to buckle. Even with the Astral Shroud, she couldn¡¯t dodge everything. Even Gnasher, sharing Larra¡¯s full-body Bracing, was strong enough to knock her off her feet or grab onto the half of the scythe and tug her off-balance. When she found an opening and lashed out¡ªand Larra left plenty of openings¡ªbut her scythe wasn¡¯t powerful enough to chew through the shields of water entirely, and she left only light cuts in the Admiral¡¯s Arcara-imbued flesh. The woman in front of her was too advanced. It was simple. When will she have to drop back down to Captain? Vayra thought, directing it intently at Phason¨¦. ¡®When her Captain body can¡¯t contain the power anymore,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, but it radiated a mental sense of guesswork¡ªeven if the Goddess¡¯ voice was confident. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. But Larra had taken a break before this fight, too. They still had plenty of time where they would have to deal with her as an Admiral. ¡®We have a few more tricks,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You need the Mediator Form. It¡¯s the only way you¡¯ll be strong enough to cut her skin. Draw mana from my heavenly reserves, use my Arcara system, and empower yourself with my core.¡¯ With Larra¡¯s shields up, it still wouldn¡¯t be enough. ¡®You have a runestone. Use it.¡¯ When Larra struck Vayra in the chest, it knocked her off her feet. Vayra slid along the ground until she bumped up against the glass wall behind. Her mechanical arm, still under Phason¨¦¡¯s control and holding the scythe, shifted awkwardly. The scythe left a red-hot gash through the ground. Larra spun her staff, then threw it like a javelin. A watery spearhead formed at its tip, and it blasted through Vayra¡¯s mechanical hand, pinning her to the wall glass wall. A few of the rope tendons had ripped, and one of the wooden bones had been shattered completely, but she felt nothing. Except now, she couldn¡¯t move. She dispelled the scythe, then pulled against the staff. It was embedded straight into the normal glass sheet¡ªone of the sheets that sandwiched the Moulded Arcara beneath¡ªbut it wouldn¡¯t budge. Short of ripping the mechanical arm off her body, she wouldn¡¯t get out. Larra laughed, then strolled across the room. Gnasher ran circles around her legs. ¡°I told you: your fight was futile.¡± She dropped her Bracing technique, but she kept outputting the strength of an Admiral. ¡°Now, are you going to finally hold still?¡± ¡®Vayra, remember your virtues?¡¯ ¡°Of course,¡± she whispered. Each step Larra took made the floor shudder. Light seeped out of the hallway on the opposite side, silhouetting her and making her even more imposing. ¡®We¡¯re not done yet,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You still have an ability to match her scaling.¡¯ Vayra stared directly at Larra. She ran through the virtues as best as she could, and the minor revelations that had triggered the Form before. Inner strength. She tightened her fists. She wasn¡¯t giving up, and she wasn¡¯t dying here. I¡¯ve been weak my entire life. There¡¯s always been someone stronger. But now, that doesn¡¯t have to be true. Trust. I trust you, Phason¨¦. I trust you to always be there for me, to hold my hand when I need it, and to lend me your wisdom and power. Duty. ¡°Godscourge¡­¡± she breathed. ¡°That is my duty.¡± Now, after hitting Captain, she knew what that truly meant. Defend those who can¡¯t defend themselves. Fight the battles they never could. Mortals¡­animals, like Adair, and even the natural world. Strands of starlight poured out of her scarf. A detailed outline of Phason¨¦¡¯s appearance formed atop her collarbones, then climbed up her neck and out to her limbs. It swirled in her veins. Now, Vayra understood the Form better. It worked because she was drawing on Phason¨¦¡¯s Emissary reserves and resources. She was temporarily borrowing Emissary-grade Arcara, and Phason¨¦¡¯s Arcara system, trapped in the heavenly realms, now shared some of its strength with Vayra. Vayra smiled as her will intertwined with Phason¨¦¡¯s. Glade tumbled back across the courtyard for the last time. It had to be the last time. He was almost out of mana. His mouth was dry, his throat ached, and a headache ground behind his eyes. He slid to a halt beside Ameena. The swordwyrm tumbled through the air, then grated along the cobblestones, and came to a rest at his feet. Ameena mumbled something incoherent, then reached out to the side. Not unconscious anymore. She was probably trying to tell him something. He leaned closer. She whispered, ¡°Order¡­of Balance¡­brings hope¡­¡± ¡°What happened?¡± he hissed. She had said she was looking for a staff here, but he saw no evidence of it. ¡°Moth,¡± Ameena groaned. Her head lolled back, and though she was still breathing, she wasn¡¯t going to be any help. Glade rolled to the side, avoiding a barrage of wooden pellets. A larger stake¡ªthe last one Wren had¡ªraced towards the wyrm, but Glade grabbed the giant sword by the hilt and pulled it out of the way before the stake could pin it to the ground¡ªor worse, shatter the blade entirely. He pushed himself up, leaning on the hilt of his own longsword for strength. ¡°Swordwyrm? Do you hear me? I need one last push¡­¡± ¡°Sword friend,¡± it uttered. Glade had a cut along his forehead, and it was bleeding into his eyes. Another gash ran down his leg, and a deep cut ran through his bicep, but Wren wasn¡¯t doing well, either. She bled clear, white blood from a wound on her wingtip¡ªGlade had managed to cut a tip off. The swordwyrm had left a gash along her cheek and carved a few marks down her calf. Panting, Glade said, ¡°I¡¯ll cover you. She expects you to be the distraction, but I can take a few more hits. Then you take her out.¡± The swordwyrm bobbed up and down like it was nodding. Side-by-side, Glade and wyrm sprinted at their foe. Glade ducked off to the left. Wren was here in the name of chaos. Glade was here for the good of the galaxy. He wanted it more. Wren ignored the wyrm and launched a spear of sawdust and wood chips at Glade. He hacked it apart down the center, but a second whip of dust raced towards him from the side. It caught him across the shoulder. He spun and sprawled out along the ground¡­and just in time for the swordwyrm to strike. It caught her across the back with a heavy blow. She staggered forwards¡ªinto Glade¡¯s waiting blade. He jumped to his feet and rammed the longsword through Wren¡¯s gut. She coughed and sputtered, but her eyes still shone with malice. She raised a hand, as if about to use one last technique. He ripped the sword out, then slashed through her neck, severing her head before the technique could start. Chapter 52: The Form [Volume 3] Glade fell onto his back. First, he breathed heavily just to catch his breath, but it turned into a laugh. He¡¯d done it. Wren was gone. Dead. He¡¯d defeated a God-heir¡ªor close enough to one. The swordwyrm flopped across him, landing hard on his stomach with the flat of the blade. It knocked the air out of his lungs again, but he put a hand down on it gently. ¡°You are free to leave. Your half of the deal was fulfilled.¡± The swordwyrm didn¡¯t budge. ¡°Alright then,¡± he whispered. He had a pet flying sword now. ¡°You want me to help you eat more swords, is that it?¡± The swordwyrm shifted side-to-side, wagging its hilt. After a few minutes of laying still, unmoving, Glade sat up. A flash of light seeped out from the very top of the central control dome, miles above. He might have chalked it up to a glint of sunlight, but it happened again a second later, then three more times. It was Vayra¡¯s starlight, and brighter than he¡¯d ever seen it before. She was fighting someone, and another surge of powerlessness bled into him. If she died, and he had been so far away¡­ Then the white light held. The universe breathed a sigh of relief, and a deep sense of harmonic, balanced willpower radiated from the upper dome. He¡¯d only felt a power like this once before, and it had been much weaker. She was using the Mediator form. Vayra and Phason¨¦ became one. Phason¨¦¡¯s white outline traced over Vayra, forming a long skirt that looked more like a waist-cape, then wrapping up into a detailed ghostly casing. It meshed with the Astral Shroud, two parts of one whole, and their wills combined. The scythe appeared, its Moulding more intricate than ever before. Vayra and Phason¨¦ reached across their body and ripped the three-part staff out of their mechanical hand. They cast it aside and let it tumble across the floor. They pushed their hands back against the wall, filling the glass with free-flowing high grade mana. A pressure on the other side of the wall built¡ªNathariel was doing his part¡ªand the mandala-lock began to fill up with orange and white Arcara. Vayra and Phason¨¦ barely paid any attention to it. White light bathed everything. Larra¡¯s face lit up in shock, then annoyance. She rushed forward, and Gnasher approached from the side. Vayra and Phason¨¦ flashed to the side, trailing sparks through the air, then swung at Larra. The God-heir grabbed the haft of the scythe, and as an Admiral, she was still strong enough to throw them to the side. But Vayra and Phason¨¦ didn¡¯t stumble yet. They clung tight to the haft of the scythe and planted its blunt end down. Larra restored her own Bracing technique, and tendrils of water wrapped around her. She punched Vayra and Phason¨¦ in the chest, and it was still enough to send the pair sliding back a few feet But Vayra and Phason¨¦ were ready for the next punch. They caught Larra¡¯s fist in their mechanical hand and squeezed. The ring finger and pointer finger didn¡¯t respond to commands¡ªtheir artificial tendons had been ripped¡ªbut three fingers were enough to crack Larra¡¯s bones. With their flesh and blood hand, Vayra and Phason¨¦ smashed Larra in the gut with the scythe¡¯s blade. Larra¡¯s shields absorbed the sharpness of the blow, but Vayra and Phason¨¦ asserted enough to send the God-heir flying across the room. Gnasher pounced, enveloped in a Bracing technique and protected by wards. Phason¨¦¡¯s will suggested that they end the fight, and Vayra¡¯s will agreed. They swatted the wolf¡¯s muzzle down with the haft of their scythe, then punched its chest with their mechanical fist. As soon as the knuckles came into contact with the wolf¡¯s watery shield, they activated the disruption rune. A pulse of invisible spiritual energy cleansed all the techniques within a foot-radius arc, leaving an exposed hole. Before the shields and Bracing returned, they stabbed the blade of the scythe into the hole, relying on the speed of the Astral Shroud. Gnasher yelped and whined. Vayra and Phason¨¦ moved quickly. As the beast collapsed, its insides seared by a white-hot blade of light, they ripped it out to the side. Gnasher fell silent and still. They pushed the wolf¡¯s body over to Larra with a kick. Phason¨¦ meant it as a threat, and Vayra meant it as an offering of condolences. It had been a humane death, but it was still the death of a companion. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Gnasher¡¯s body began to disintegrate into blue ash. Whatever he had truly been, he had no blood. All that remained was his black, cracked tooth, which Larra picked up. Her face twisted in rage, but her spirit declined. She fell back to a Captain, and it had to be an involuntary drop. Vayra and Phason¨¦¡¯s spirit trembled. Vayra¡¯s will began to divert from Phason¨¦¡¯s. The Mediator Form destabilized, and a tiredness rolled through Vayra¡¯s spirit. She had channeled high-power Arcara, higher than ever before, and she couldn¡¯t hold it much longer. She fell to her knees, the last dregs of white light flowing off her. She and Phason¨¦ separated once more. Their beings unwove from each other, becoming separate wills once again. Larra scoffed, then kicked the dust of Gnasher. ¡°You¡¯ll pay! Without your form, what are you?¡± Vayra looked up, trying to catch her breath. ¡°Without your artifact and beast, what are you?¡± ¡°So it¡¯s an even fight!¡± Larra jumped forward, and Vayra struck her in the forehead with the haft of her scythe, sending her sliding back along the ground. Larra stood up and took a fighting stance. She was still going? The glass wall behind Vayra crumbled. The Moulded Emissary-stage Arcara dissolved like a sugar cube in the rain, and glass shards peeled off before crashing down on the wooden floor and shattering. Nathariel and Pels stood behind her. Nathariel¡¯s spear glowed, its tip flaming orange, and Pels pointed a pistol at Larra. Larra¡¯s eyes widened even further, but she wrenched her face under control a moment later and took a step back. ¡°You¡ª¡± Nathariel whipped a bolt of flame at her. She barely dispelled it with a sloshing pulse of water, then spun around and sprinted out of the control room. Slamming her hand into the wall, she reactivated the doors and locks as she ran. Vayra pushed herself to her feet, preparing to chase after Larra, but Nathariel gently grabbed her shoulder. ¡°You need to rest. You are in no state to fight her fresh after advancement, and so soon after using the Mediator form.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done it before,¡± she said, trying to heave herself forwards. ¡°Letting her escape is a mistake.¡± ¡°Running into a trap is a mistake,¡± Nathariel asserted. ¡°Don¡¯t make a fool of yourself. You won. She lost her advantages, and she is nothing more than a normal heir, now.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve used the Mediator Form and been fine. I¡ª¡± ¡°And you never channelled so much high-power Arcara. Rest, before you cripple yourself.¡± ¡®He¡¯s right, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®We cannot get ourselves killed or trapped because of this. Don¡¯t turn your victory into a defeat.¡¯ Vayra nodded. She let her shoulders relax and fall, then, turning around, she sighed. After a few more seconds, she said, ¡°Thank you. Thank you all.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a Captain, now,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°And most of that was on you.¡± ¡°If you hadn¡¯t told me how to get through the Lieutenant stages and guided me to this point¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°It was a team effort, eh?¡± Pels said. ¡°You all can be happy and proud, but we still have a greenhouse to escape. Assuming you¡¯ve got everything you came for.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. She still had ten vials of high-grade elixir in her corespace, a new pistol, and she¡¯d advanced as far as she needed. ¡°I¡¯m¡­good. If we stay here any longer, we¡¯ll give Larra time to recoup and hunt us, or someone more powerful will catch on and we¡¯ll be done for.¡± She walked across the little room and picked up the pistol she had retrieved earlier¡ªit was too valuable to leave behind. ¡°And if we don¡¯t get moving, we might not make it in time to register for the tournament,¡± Nathariel said. Over the next few hours, the three of them navigated across to the other side of the control dome and down to the roots. Vayra let her channels relax. A little bit of char had built up from continual use of the Astral Shroud, and they were just exhausted. She flooded them, cleansing and purifying out the debris until they were clear, then called all her mana and Arcara back to her core to let the channels rest. When they reached the bottom of the dome, Vayra looked down. The entire central wall was dissolving. The structural Moulded Arcara collapsed, and the panes of glass began to fall. ¡°We might have overdone it,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°The¡­mandala lock did all that?¡± Vayra whispered back. ¡°You flooded it with a lot of Arcara, and these systems are old and finicky. It is likely a product of decay more than anything.¡± The three of them began a descent along the enormous roots on the wall. To aid their descent, Nathariel held a rope for them. He used his enhanced body to support the rope, belaying Pels and Vayra as they rappelled down the upright root-cords. When they reached the end of the rope, they dug in and paused, and Nathariel jumped down to their level. He dug his heels into the rough bark and wedged his hand into cracks to catch himself. Halfway down the root-cord, while the sun was still setting, the roots finally broke free from the decaying central wall. With a creak and a groan, the root began to collapse under its own weight. With nothing to cling to, it keeled over, peeling off the wall. When the section of root that Vayra and the others were climbing down began to leaned away from the wall, their fingers started to slip. The air rushed around them, and before Vayra registered it, the root shook them off. They were freefalling. ¡°Spread your limbs out!¡± Nathariel shouted. ¡°Vayra, I will need a hand!¡± She knew what to do. Nathariel poured a sphere of fire-Arcara into the air below them, and Vayra added to it with a shield of her own. She¡¯d been resting all day, and she could pour a little Arcara out, now. Pels fell between them, but after a few seconds, he drifted over to Nathariel. The Admiral hoisted Pels up onto his back, so when they hit the ground, Nathariel would take the blow first. The shield of flame and starlight bashed the ground first, digging up a wave of dirt as it cushioned their landing. The starlight ward absorbed the rest of the impact. When the dust cleared, they laid in a crater wide enough to fit an entire ship. Pels was the first to stand up and brush himself off. ¡°Wonderful way down, I¡¯ll say. Exceptional speed. Now, why you brought me along in the first place: allow me to help us find the Harmony again.¡± Chapter 53: Departure [Volume 3] It took them a day to cross the greenhouse and reach the foyer. Vayra and Nathariel veiled their cores as best as they could¡ªthey didn¡¯t need to attract anymore unwanted attention. When they reached the miniature entrance of the dome, Vayra had seen no sign of Larra. ¡°Do you think¡­she¡¯ll be at the tournament?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°We can¡¯t worry about that right now,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°And if she is, you¡¯ll win. You¡¯ve done it once.¡± They left the dome through the main doors. Someone had wedged the doors open¡ªprobably curious God-heirs¡ªand all the guardian vines had been ripped off it. ¡°Alright, Pels,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Do your magic. Get us back to the Harmony.¡± A few ships had anchored in the two canals outside the dome, but the Harmony wasn¡¯t among them. They walked across the overgrown plains outside the dome until they reached a large boulder. Pels scrambled up atop it and looked around. After a few seconds, he let out a chuckle, then waved them to the side. ¡°This way, all.¡± As they walked, Vayra registered an emptiness beside her. Glade would have been walking there, talking only when needed in a painfully formal tone. He was just¡­gone. ¡°How¡¯d he die?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We were sabotaged,¡± Nathariel said, understanding immediately. ¡°A God-heir attacked us, and he had been in a temporal rift. The rift fell and collapsed prematurely¡ªwith him inside it.¡± A dribble of regret and remorse entered his voice. ¡°We will need to find a new candidate for his place at the tournament, but it may be too¡­¡± He trailed off when Pels glared at him. ¡°Apologies,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Too soon.¡± But Vayra couldn¡¯t help feeling a tightness around her shoulders and a pressure on her back. If she was the only one on their side entering the Skyclash tournament, then she would have to accept Talock¡¯s Godhood. As best as she understood it, such a thing was impossible, and would destroy her if she tried. But she pushed those thoughts aside. She shouldn¡¯t be feeling that right now. She should be upset that Glade was gone. All she could feel was numbness. Her mind didn¡¯t want to process it yet. Finally, when it was midnight and they reached the edge of the field and peered over the canal on the eastern side of the dome, she slumped down to a sitting position. A few tears leaked out of her eyes. She wiped them away, but that only made more come. Nathariel stood tall and proud, looking side-to-side, but Pels and Phason¨¦¡¯s ghostly white form knelt down on either side of her. None of them said anything; they didn¡¯t need to. Phason¨¦ wrapped her arms around Vayra¡¯s back and delivered a tight hug. Pels nodded, and she knew he was there to help. Finally, Nathariel turned around, his arms crossed. ¡°We need to move, before they¡­¡± ¡°For the Stream¡¯s sake, let her have a minute!¡± Pels exclaimed. ¡°Vayra, I am sorry, and I understand your pain, but there is someone coming. We must keep moving.¡± Nathariel looked back over his shoulder. ¡°Someone is¡­flying right at us.¡± ¡°Wren?¡± Pels asked. ¡°The bounty hunter?¡± ¡°She¡¯s here?¡± Vayra exclaimed. She wiped her eyes and jumped to her feet. ¡°She was the one who caused these problems in the first place,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°She was the one who ambushed us and separated Glade from us, for whatever her purpose might have been.¡± ¡°I thought you hit her wing,¡± Pels said. ¡°Can¡¯t fly with a burnt wing.¡± ¡°Perhaps she found a healing elixir.¡± Vayra held out her hand, ready to summon the scythe, but Nathariel held up his hand. ¡°Wren was a First Lieutenant. This is a Third Lieutenant¡ªat the peak of the stage, but still only a Third Lieutenant.¡± Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. ¡°It¡¯d be suicidal to attack us.¡± ¡°Keep moving,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Pels, get us to the Harmony. If this person is truly chasing after us, they¡¯ll follow us. If not, we won¡¯t have to worry.¡± They turned and ran along the edge of the canal, many fathoms above the freshwater-Streamwater amalgamation. Here, so far from the coast in a wide river, it was stagnant. The east side of the canal had much higher banks¡ªso high that an entire ship, mast, and sails could hide behind the stone walls. Pels led them to a cove along the canal¡¯s bank¡ªthe Harmony¡¯s crew preferred coves as a hiding spot, apparently. It didn¡¯t look purposeful like the rest of the canal; its walls had eroded into concave slopes and there were only young roots reaching down the walls. It was only decades old, at best. They skirted around the edge, following the curve of the shore. At the very back of the cove, the wall curved even steeper. A curtain of roots and lichen and thin shrubs draped over the edge, but it was especially thick at the back. Only when Vayra looked closely and intently at it for a few seconds did she pick out a few golden gimmers behind the curtain¡ªand that was with the Captain-stage eyesight of her new, reforged body. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Here,¡± Pels said. He tapped a set of small boulders on the edge of the cove. They didn¡¯t look out of place, and they barely peeked out of the wheat, but they must have meant something to Pels. ¡°It¡¯s a rough symbol we use. No one would notice it without knowing, but I do know. They brought the ship here.¡± They jumped down into the cove, plummeting a mast-height and a half. The three of them hit the water with a splash, then swam over to Harmony. They peeled aside the natural curtain just enough to slip into the eroded shelter of mut and roots. A few of the ships¡¯ sentries yelled at them¡ªuntil Pels called out and identified himself. ¡°They¡¯re back!¡± someone yelled. ¡°Run out the oars! Get her moving!¡± They climbed up the ladder on the side of the ship. Now, Vayra¡¯s entire mechanical hand was refusing to respond to commands, and it let off a few sparks of Arcara, but she didn¡¯t need it to help herself climb. When they reached the Harmony¡¯s main deck, the ship was starting to pull out of the cove. There wasn¡¯t any wind this deep in the cove, but the sailors pushed oars out the gun ports and rowed the ship out into the canal¡ªwith no sails on the mast whatsoever. Pels ran up to the ship¡¯s quarterdeck and shouted out commands to the crew, then took the wheel himself and steered. ¡°Any word on that Third Lieutenant?¡± Vayra asked Nathariel softly. ¡°Still approaching,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Altered course to match us, and is now flying down the canal towards us.¡± Vayra ran back to the Harmony¡¯s quarterdeck, then all the way to the stern railing. She leaned out between the lanterns and stared as far back as she could. The Harmony pulled out of the cove and sloshed into the canal beyond, swaying gently as the sailors rowed. Nathariel stood a few steps behind her, his fingertips glowing orange. ¡°It is a sword-Path¡­God-heir?¡± He narrowed his eyes, then his face softened. A few seconds later, he raised his eyebrows. ¡°Your senses should be starting to develop, now. Tell me what you feel.¡± Vayra tried to lock onto the distant pressure that this person exerted. In the canal, flying just above the water, someone approached. He had the physique of a man, and he stood on a five-foot-long giant sword with a splayed tip. A wake of water rose behind him. He was catching up¡­ ¡®You spiritual senses, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. Right. She focussed on the pressure. From Nathariel, there was an immense weight¡ªand an immense sense of potential. From the approaching God-heir, there was only a minor pressure, and almost no sense of potential. From the mortal officers and sailors on the quarterdeck, she felt absolutely no pressure, and potential so small it may as well have been non-existent. ¡°So¡­he¡¯s not a God-heir,¡± Vayra breathed, turning her attention back to the stern of the ship. A tattered black coat fluttered behind the man, and a longsword hung at his hip. His hair was white, but it wasn¡¯t a wig. ¡°It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s Glade?¡± Glade had stayed in the fortress with Ameena until she woke up. He¡¯d offered to bring her with him, but she said she¡¯d rather stay behind and look for some more weapons and elixirs, so they parted ways. She was looking to reach Captain soon, too. Glade himself had spent a few more hours searching the fortress, and he¡¯d found a few powerful elixirs and spirit wines in the old mess hall. He had loaded them all into his newly-acquired voidhorn before setting off. He flew through the night, standing on the back of the swordwyrm. The wyrm still controlled the giant sword, but it responded to Glade¡¯s signals diligently. When he shifted his weight forwards, it flew forwards, and when he leaned side-to-side, the weapon obeyed just as well. As he flew, he slalomed for practice. He wove a complex path through the air as he crossed the dome, feeling how the swordwyrm responded to him. He tucked his hands behind his back¡ªit was easier to consolidate his weight that way. Just before midnight, he reached the edge of the greenhouse. He tucked his head and flew through the foyer and out into the empty air of the night. The central wall of the facility had fallen, and that had to have been Vayra¡¯s doing. She would be outside somewhere¡ªwith how much extra time he had spent in the fortress, she would have made it outside already. He had to catch up before they left without him. They thought he was dead. When he saw a glimmer of pure white light on the edge of the eastern canal, he knew he¡¯d found her. He navigated down the canal, passing between two smaller sloops belonging to a few low-tier God-heirs, before dipping down and skimmed along the surface of the water. He bent down lower on the swordwyrm and patted the tip. ¡°Think we can get going any faster?¡± The swordwyrm tipped forward further. Glade widened his stance, and the weapon shot off, creating a wake behind them. The Harmony dipped out of a cove, oars poking out of its gunports. On the planetary sea, its speed was no match for the swordwyrm. Glade stayed low until the last moment, then shifted his weight and angled the sword up. They pulled into a steep ascent, barely clearing the stern railing. Glade hopped off the blade and landed in a crouch on the quarterdeck. The swordwyrm flipped around and stood upright, hovering in the air behind him. Vayra and Nathariel stood at the stern railing, staring at him. Before he could open his mouth, Vayra ran towards him and grabbed him in a tight hug. Her lip quivered, but she said nothing. ¡°We thought you had died, boy,¡± Nathariel said. Still, his shoulders relaxed, and his face shifted with relief. When Vayra finally pulled away, Glade nodded. ¡°I am sorry for the scare. But I made it out of the rift just before it closed. There was no way I would catch up to you, so I made the most of my time on the ground.¡± ¡°Lieutenant?¡± Vayra asked, stepping back. Something was different about her. Her face was the same shape, and she was clearly the same person¡ªnot accounting for the new feathery accents¡ªbut her features were more refined and elegant. No longer did he see a terrified street rat, but a competent and refined young woman. She had made it to Captain. He didn¡¯t need any fancy senses to tell that. He offered a smile, then dipped his head respectfully. ¡°Congratulations.¡± ¡°We¡­we have a little ways to go, still, if we want to raise you up in time for the tournament,¡± Vayra said. Nathariel turned away from the railing and motioned with his hand. ¡°Come along, both of you. Vayra, we need to fix your hand. Glade, we have work to do. And we still have a few days before we make it back to the coast. It¡¯d be a shame to let them go to waste.¡± Chapter 54: The Way Back [Volume 3] Myrrir walked into the port village unaccosted. He hadn¡¯t even encountered a bluecoat patrol along the way or at the city outskirts¡ªthey were all at the battle. Within the city, there were a few bluecoats, but he kept his head down and stuck to the shadows. They probably wouldn¡¯t recognize him, but he wasn¡¯t taking any risks. The Hyovao waited exactly where he had left it, but it was in much better shape. The ship¡¯s purser had run about the city, hiring more crew members and anyone who was willing to work their way offworld, and the rest of the crew had almost finalized the repairs. When Myrrir returned, he told them that Tye had been killed by the local Moro-ka, and most of the crew fell silent. They kept working on the ship¡¯s final repairs, and Myrrir helped, but no one spoke. Would they have done that Myrrir had died? He swallowed uncomfortably. Over the next day and a half, they finished the repairs, but everyone stayed silent unless it was absolutely necessary to speak. At noon on the second day, Myrrir¡¯s lie almost fell apart: the bluecoats strung up Tye¡¯s body in the central square, hanging from a noose as if the gaping musket-shot hole in his chest hadn¡¯t killed him first. Myrrir held back all surges of regret. His heart pounded and his stomach churned. At least he was the only one of the crew who ventured far enough inland to see it. He commanded them to set sail as soon as he could¡ªwhich was only an hour later. They put the port behind them and turned to the planet¡¯s only branch of the Stream. This whole ordeal would be over soon enough, and he could forget about it all. When the system was only a faint speck in the void, he let himself relax, but everything still felt wrong. Everything was just slightly out of place. The boards of the deck were too pale, the lanterns too dim, and the crew too¡­quiet. He heaved a sigh. The tournament would do wonders for his mood¡ªespecially when he could prove to his father that he was still the strongest Captain of their generation, and worthy of every accolade and praise he could give. Myrrir told the navigators, ¡°To the Shattered Moon.¡± Without thinking, he added, ¡°Please.¡± He blinked a few times, then told himself never to do that again. They set the charts and nodded, obeying immediately. The Shattered Moon had once been a planet-sized moon orbiting an orange gas giant, but an asteroid had smashed into it a few hundred years ago. Ever since, the moon had been falling apart. Shards of the planet were lifting away like flaking skin, and chunks of the surface and frozen mantle hung out the bottom. From a distance, the entire moon looked like an enormous spaceborne jellyfish, bound by the ever-weakening umbilical cord of the Stream. Endless trellises of wood and Moulded Arcara held the three-quarter sphere of the main moon together. Cracks ran across the surface and deep into the core of the world, and some patches of surface were missing for miles around. The moon didn¡¯t have a molten core anymore, nor anything in its core except air. Enormous floating runes sought to maintain the atmospheric composition, but they could only keep it thick enough at the moon¡¯s empty core. Any decade, now, the moon would lose all of its connection to the Stream, and it would just become a pretty object in the sky. But until then, it remained a location of great significance to the Elderworlds¡ªand the galaxy as a whole. It was where the Streamfather had struck down an ancient void-fiend from realms above¡ªthe Foe. Ever since, it had been the site of the Skyclash tournament, where the best, most prodigal Captains of their generation fought for recognition from their parents or grandparents. Sometimes, even an uninherited Godly authority. This time, more than just a Godly authority would be on the line. There were grander workings at play. In a few months, the tournament would begin, and Myrrir couldn¡¯t miss out. On the journey from the Kamoro system to the Shattered Moon (a short, two-day journey along the Stream), rumours circulated through the crew. They had heard from someone (who had heard from someone else, and so on) that Velaydian contestants would be attending the tournament. If the Order of Balance had anyone at Captain, Myrrir would be surprised¡ªand much more surprised if the Mediator made it to Captain in such a short time. But he figured it wasn¡¯t out of the realm of possibilities, considering how fast she¡¯d made it through the other ranks. The two galactic factions would draw lines in the sand, demonstrating their power and courage to their people. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The Hyovao approached the Shattered Moon as fast as it could. The Stream thinned as it approached the moon, fraying and fading off into mist. Tendrils snaked aimlessly into the void, and particles of unconsolidated Stream water left the protection of the arcane winds, freezing into iridescent hail. The surface of the Shattered Moon was barren, now. Only the hardiest shrubs grew on the surface, and there were no settlements anymore. The Stream didn¡¯t anchor to the surface anymore; it passed through an enormous crack. The Hyovao slowed down on the descent. The deeper they delved, the weaker gravity became, but the greater the outside air pressure grew. Miles below the planet¡¯s surface, the Stream passed through a spherical boundary of mist. Within the boundary was a continent-sized floating island. Gravity normalized above the island, and the air pressure lightened. The Stream sloped towards the island¡¯s edge¡ªwhere a slice of ocean waited. It was entirely Stream water, and it misted off the edge of the continent in waterfalls and rain. The Stream anchored to the edge of the island, depositing the Hyovao just outside the main port city. Within the misty sphere, the climate was mild. The system¡¯s distant sun shone through the cracks in the Moon¡¯s surface, illuminating the continent¡¯s snow-capped mountains and forests in swaths. Every single tree was either a shade of sickly green, orange, or yellow, and entire bands of forest were dead. The Hyovao sailed into the planet¡¯s main port, approaching one of the hundreds of white marble piers that reached out into the ocean. Each pier was large enough to host multiple tallships, and most had at least two docking at them, if not three. The planet imported supplies, but also wealthy guests who wanted to stake out their place well before the tournament began. And of course, entrants like Myrrir who had nothing better to do than show up early. He retrieved a spare brass cuirass and gauntlets from the great cabin and donned them, then made sure his sword and powder flask were bound firmly to his hip. Alone, he jumped down to the pier and dismissed the crew. They didn¡¯t need to be here, nor did they need to waste gold on harbour fees. Under the command of an old quartermaster, now the honourary First Officer, the Hyovao set off. When the tournament was over in a few months, they would return. Or not. Maybe they¡¯d see an opportunity and make a run for it. Myrrir could find another ship. The tournament was more important. He wandered the port city for a few hours, trying to catch his bearings and determine where he could make his entrance into the tournament official. Everywhere he went, city guards stared at him suspiciously. The city guards weren¡¯t bluecoats. They wore bluesteel armour (a material with the lustre of jade, but blue) marking their affiliation to the Elderworlds, but they had all specially trained to maintain the peace of the Shattered Moon. A few of them carried muskets, but most carried bluesteel glaives. They patrolled with grace, their cloaks flowing behind them with every step. Whenever a pair of merchants even began to argue, the guards stepped in and pushed them apart, stopping a fight before it could start. For as long as the Shattered Moon had been significant, it had also been consecrated. Unless it was during the tournament, no violence could take place. That didn¡¯t mean people wouldn¡¯t try to start fights, and Myrrir could almost guarantee some sort fowl play would rear its head in the upcoming tournament. Finally, when the sun was dipping around the bottom of the continent-sized floating island, he found a booth nestled into the side of a busy street. It didn¡¯t look terribly important, with its tattered awnings and patinated walls, but a set of Elderworld banners hung beside it. ¡°Where can I register for the Skyclash tournament?¡± he asked the man running the booth. The man was a mortal in a simple brown coat. A bluecoat sat in the gloom of the shop behind him, asleep, but Myrrir figured the man was more important. ¡°We can do the assessment here, son,¡± the man said. ¡°But we¡¯re closing up shop in ten minutes, so do as I say and make it quick. If you¡¯re not at the right stage or don¡¯t meet the entrance qualifications¡ªat least half a core of Captain-grade Arcara¡ªyou¡¯ll have to try again next time.¡± The man was pretty confident for a mortal, but then again, city guardsmen stood nearby, holding their bluesteel glaives ready. They didn¡¯t exert any spiritual pressure or presence, but their glaives had been marked with rune-lines (which they could activate at any moment with the vials of Stream water at their hips), and there were a great many of them. ¡°I¡¯ll be quick,¡± Myrrir assured the man. ¡°One second, then.¡± The man turned away and disappeared into the gloom of the little booth. After a few seconds, he returned with a small box. ¡°Your hand, please,¡± he requested. Myrrir held out his hand. The man took a pin and a vial out of the box. He jabbed Myrrir¡¯s palm with the pin, drawing out a glob of blood, then dropped it in the vial. The vial had already been filled with water and other liquids, and immediately, the blood reacted. It turned blue. Flakes of brown debris precipitated at the bottom of the vial. The man swirled the vial, then tapped it with his finger. After a few more seconds, he held it up against a sheet of parchment with shades of pigment as reference. ¡°Good enough,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Exceptional amounts of precipitate¡ªyou¡¯ve got a problem with blockages in your Arcara channels, son¡ªbut good strength. Acceptable. We¡¯ll call it a match. Name?¡± ¡°Myrrir, son of Nilsenir.¡± ¡°Path?¡± Myrrir scowled. ¡°Really?¡± The man didn¡¯t know Nilsenir¡¯s heirs¡¯ main Path? ¡°What Path, son?¡± ¡°Path of the Darkflag,¡± Myrrir grumbled. ¡°Any official Godly sponsors? Please don¡¯t claim a godly sponsor who has not given you direct permission to do so.¡± Myrrir was about to claim Nilsenir¡ªand a few months ago, he would have been able to. But now, he wasn¡¯t so sure. He shook his head. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Not even your old man? Thought you were supposed to be his favoured son and such.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯ve been living under a rock,¡± Myrrir said as the man jotted down the answers with a quill. ¡°This tournament is my way back.¡± The man snorted, then tapped his quill harshly at the bottom of the page. ¡°Well, Myrrir, consider yourself enrolled. And good luck.¡± Chapter 55: True Friends [Volume 3] As the days passed, the walls of the canal shrank. They dipped down low enough that the Harmony¡¯s sails could catch the wind blowing across the canal from east to west¡ªif they angled the sails just right, the breeze pushed them south to the ocean and back to the Stream. They arrived at the locks halfway through the night, and the Harmony managed to slip in before the upper gate¡¯s routine closure (but they had to wait a few more hours until the lock drained and let them down to the lower shelf of land. While they waited, Vayra repaired her prosthetic hand. She peeled the outer panels away, revealing the damaged string tendons, wooden rods, and starsteel coils that made it all work. Moving slowly and carefully, she pulled the debris and damaged elements out. In the three days before, she had prepared replacement components (with a little help from Nathariel and the ship¡¯s gunsmith), but they didn¡¯t have any extra starsteel to replace the wires. She fixed those herself. She rejoined severed wires with knots and pushed coils back into place. She rigged strings back up for the tendons and slotted wooden bones back in. Her other flesh-and-blood hand made a perfect reference. Now that she was a Captain and her senses had improved, she could observe most of her inner workings by pushing her consciousness down through her body. She followed her Arcara channels, then let her mind seep out into her flesh and veins. Once she had a basic blueprint of how the bones needed to align, she put the prosthetic hand back together. When she fuelled the starsteel wires, her hand contracted and opened as it was supposed to. When, after another few hours (until the lock drained, depositing them on the bottom river), nothing else had gone wrong with the hand, she attached the panels back to the outside and socketed the runestone back in place. As soon as she had the arm repaired, a faint rumble and a single pulse of strength radiated away from the bow of the ship. She had been using the center of the gun deck as her makeshift workshop, but at the sound, she sprang to her feet and, weaving between sleeping sailors and scattered cargo, ran up above deck. Glade sat on the forecastle, using elixirs to push himself far enough and high enough. He had broken through to Second Lieutenant¡ªshe knew that was what the rumble meant. He had been working towards the advancement for the past few days, using elixirs he had scavenged from the greenhouse. Vayra ran up to the Harmony¡¯s foremast and leaned against it, her arms crossed. ¡°Can you hear me, Glade?¡± ¡°I hear you.¡± ¡°Just making sure everything went alright.¡± The Lieutenant stages had very little risk during advancement, but any moment, though, she expected him to pass out. ¡°Are your channels still holding together?¡± ¡°Holding together,¡± he confirmed, opening his eyes. Nathariel had run up the forecastle stairs to join them. He shut his eyes, probably exerting a quick spiritual scan of the deck, then nodded. ¡°You are making good progress. We have a few weeks yet to get you to Captain.¡± Vayra turned away and hung her head. Glade might have turned out to be a bit of a prodigy, but his potential was still limited, and if they failed, they¡¯d permanently cripple him. Plus, it all hinged on him figuring out the necessary insights. But they had no other choice. Glade had designed his corespace as a replica of the Elder Eman-Fa¡¯s training pit at his home estate on the planet of Pana. There was barely enough room in the corespace to fit the location. During Third Lieutenant, Glade had layered down a flat dish of earth ten yards across before he reached the edge of his inner void. Before reaching Third Lieutenant, he hadn¡¯t even been able to draw himself into it, let alone adjust the corespace, but Ameena had offered a few suggestions in their last day together. He had extended an offer for her to join them, but she had declined. Still, the advice was helpful. He needed to create a space that meant something about swords to him. What better than the place where he had spent his entire childhood learning sword forms and sparring with his old Order of Balance teacher? Once he had a platform of dirt, he layered gravel onto it. It was a simple, flat foundation, but it wouldn¡¯t be a very good sparring pit if it was hilly. Now, almost a week after reaching Second Lieutenant, and almost entirely through his elixir reserves, he had nearly completed the vegetation. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He sat in the center of the gravel pit, asserting willpower through his core, and manipulating Arcara into strands. They wove up into tree-like shapes. Inside the corespace, he envisioned a pair of trees on either side of the pit. One was a red maple, and the other was white. They were old trees with twisted, thick trunks, and they hung over the center of the circular patch of gravel, blotting out most of the sky. The red tree dropped its red leaves on half of the gravel patch, and the white tree dropped its leaves on the other half, covering the ground almost entirely with their two discrete colours. As Glade neared the peak of the stage, he added tufts of grass around the edge. It was hardy grass; this training pit would have been close to the coast. His most vivid memory of this place was during the fall, so the grass needed to be going to seed. His core had already tinted to a shade of coral-orange from the Dawnspear body, and the lighting was sunset-like. He couldn¡¯t change that yet, though¡ªthe sky would come later. As he was setting the last tufts of grass in place, his core gave a pulse, then it shuddered. He started pouring waves of mana through it to lock everything in place and seal the changes he had made. When his core stopped shaking and shuddering, and the new formations of Arcara he had asserted were finally in place, he opened his eyes and drew his consciousness back outside. His Arcara channels burned. They felt like a musket whose barrel had burst, except there was no muzzle, and the burst bore had to hold together still. It still had to fire another volley. He took a break, shaking his arms, but it didn¡¯t make the spiritual sting go away. He wanted his channels to just shred and be done with it. That¡¯d be a relief of some kind. The Harmony had made it out onto the open ocean now. Wind filled the sails, and they took a direct route¡ªas direct as the wind would let them¡ªto the Stream. He hadn¡¯t exactly been paying attention over the past few days, but Vayra and Nathariel had been keeping a close watch on their surroundings. Nathariel was teaching Vayra to trust her spiritual senses more, and how to use them to greater effect. They¡¯d only had to scare off a single crew of God-heirs who had thought the Harmony looked fancy enough to try to capture (it did look fancy enough, but that was beside the point). Now that Glade had reached Second Lieutenant, he was entirely out of elixir. He¡¯d have to accumulate Arcara the hard way, by drawing in mana from Stream water and purifying it with the Burning Flame Loop. But, just when he began to descend down a ladder on the outside of the hull, trying to get low enough to the water to dip his hands in and catch a wisp of Stream water, Vayra¡¯s shadow appeared at the top of the ladder. ¡°You¡¯re going to have a hard time just taking from the Stream,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Especially with that low spirit potential of yours.¡± She was right, and he hated it. He just couldn¡¯t draw in as much mana as fast as others could. He would never make it to Captain in time for the tournament¡ªnot that way. ¡°If you have any suggestions,¡± he said, ¡°I would be open to them.¡± ¡°In fact, I do! Get back up here.¡± Vayra pulled the elixirs she had gathered from the upper dome of the greenhouse out of her corespace¡ªall except one. They were all raw Arcara-infusion elixirs, and they would be more useful in his hands than in hers. She¡¯d already used one to fill herself up with enough Arcara to use all her techniques reliably and continually (barring mana shortages), and she was the one with the strongest spirit potential of them all. She didn¡¯t need to horde, not when so much was on the line. She set the elixirs¡ªglowing turquoise, gold, and violet decanters¡ªdown in front of Glade. ¡°Take these, and use them as fast as you can without ripping yourself apart.¡± ¡°Vayra, these¡­are very, very valuable,¡± he said softly. ¡°You would let me have them?¡± They sat on opposite ends of the quarterdeck, facing each other. She nodded then pushed them over to him. ¡°If not for the sake of the galaxy, for the sake of giving back to people who have helped me.¡± She grimaced. ¡°Look, Glade, you¡¯ve always been there. We¡¯ve always climbed together, and we¡¯ve never really been apart for too long these past few months. We need to keep rising together now.¡± Phason¨¦ mumbled something inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®If that¡¯s how you feel about him¡­¡¯ Pardon? Vayra thought. ¡®I¡¯d understand if you had romantic inclinations towards him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. You can read my mind. You know it¡¯s not that. ¡®Your mind is a jumbled mess in that department.¡¯ Phason¨¦ radiated a mixture of emotions. Vayra couldn¡¯t pick out all of them yet, but through their bond, she picked up a little embarrassment (from Phas, even?) and¡­was that jealousy? Just longing. ¡°I am happy to hear you say that, but¡­¡± Glade scratched the back of his head nervously. ¡°This is not a romantic gesture, is it?¡± He sighed. ¡°Vayra, with all honesty: you are a wonderful friend, but I could not return such feelings.¡± Vayra stood up and walked over to him. She put her hands on her hips and looked down on him. ¡°Glade, are there only two options? That people are a big jerk to you, or that they¡¯re madly in love?¡± He chuckled. ¡°Apologies, but I have never received a gift like this. Ever.¡± ¡°Figured. Neither have I.¡± She tucked her hands behind her back, then turned around. Looking back, if she¡¯d received something like that from Glade, she probably would have had a similar reaction. ¡°But you¡¯re my friend, and that¡¯s what a friend should do.¡± He hopped to his feet. ¡°Thank you.¡± That had to be a good thing. She and Glade caught each other in another tight hug, and her eyes began to sting. A tear rolled down her cheek. ¡°I¡¯ve never had a proper friend before.¡± ¡°You have one now,¡± he said gently. She pulled away from him slowly and nodded. ¡°Yeah, you too. Now¡­you have some elixirs to process. Don¡¯t destroy yourself before we even get offworld.¡± He smiled. ¡°I will try.¡± Then, he crossed his arms. His voice barely a whisper, he said, ¡°Now, Vayra¡­I can guess what Phason¨¦ has been saying to you. You have progress to make, too, and you know what to do.¡± Chapter 56: Final Touches [Volume 3] The Harmony made it onto the Stream without a hitch. As soon as they ascended up through the upper atmosphere of Harvest Sanctuary, they were moving fast enough that no ship could catch them easily. Vayra stood at the corner of a table, looking on while the navigators, coxswains, and Captain Pels charted their next route. They¡¯d take small, inconsequential routes back to Velaydian space to avoid any trouble or blockades, then rendezvous with High Command to plan their next moves. Vayra only faintly paid attention. Glade had returned to work, Nathariel was still keeping watch, and Phason¨¦ had fallen silent. She let her attention drift off the side of the ship, inching further and further away until she was peering through the clouds of iridescent mist rising on either side of the ship. She blinked a few times, then rubbed her eyes. A pair of glowing yellow specks raced along through the Stream beside the Harmony. She pulled away from the table and ran to the railing. A silver messenger fish swam alongside the Harmony, perfectly matching the ship¡¯s speed. Normally, messenger fish could swim faster than a ship. If it was matching their pace, it meant it had a message for them. ¡°Messenger fish!¡± she called. ¡°For us!¡± After a few seconds of scrambling, a group of sailors sprinted over to the railing. They strung out a net and scooped the fish up, then dropped it on the deck. Vayra pounced on it to stop it from squirming, then peeled its mouth open. A tiny scroll of waxy paper had been inserted inside. She pulled out the scroll and unwound it. It was barely larger than the palm of her hand. Before she could even start to read, Pels plucked it from her grasp and read it aloud: ¡° ¡®Dear Captain Pels, You are hereby requested to return to Decathe¡­¡¯ ¡± Vayra¡¯s heart pounded faster and her eyes widened. Were they mad at Pels? Had he done something wrong? ¡° ¡®...to meet with the grand admirals of the Navy and commanders of the armies. Please ensure that the Mediator and the Disciple Arvitir attend alongside you, presuming they remain in good health. This is a preemptive measure to secure Velaydian coordination and effectiveness at the upcoming tournament.¡¯ ¡± ¡°Is that the king¡¯s seal?¡± Vayra breathed, leaning over Pels¡¯s shoulder. ¡°King Tallerion approved the letter,¡± Pels said. ¡°Must be important.¡± ¡°Why Decathe?¡± Pels shrugged. ¡°They figured it was close enough to the Line of Battle, and that we wouldn¡¯t have trouble finding it¡ªor getting there without attracting much attention. I doubt it was out of respect for our heritage.¡± That was a passable reason. Pels turned back to the navigator¡¯s table, ordering a change to their destination, and the conversation remained the same from there on out. Instead of lingering, Vayra ran down to the main deck. Glade still occupied the forecastle, working on his core, and she didn¡¯t want to bother him. She climbed up to the top of the mainmast, basking in the winds of the Stream. When she used her spiritual sight, wisps of glowing spiritual energy even blew in the winds, tracing complex swirling patterns along the gossamyr sails. It almost lulled her to sleep with its repetitive pattern¡ªand she desperately needed some good sleep¡ªbut she had other matters to attend to first. She tugged herself into her corespace and walked around to the little cabin at the top of the central hill. Adair had scrambled up to the roof, and he was napping on one of the thatched corners. Phason¨¦ sat in the cabin¡¯s entrance, leaning back against the empty doorframe. She wore her normal void-like dress again, and she gazed up at the sky as if deep in thought. The Goddess hadn¡¯t needed a repair to her mechanical hand. Ever since Vayra¡¯s flesh-and-blood arm and leg had been chopped off, what happened to their mechanical limbs stayed separate. Phason¨¦¡¯s arm had never been damaged in the first place. Vayra had been expecting something a little more somber. She knelt down in front of the Goddess, then quickly shifted her legs around into a sitting position. ¡°Phas? You good?¡± She waved her mechanical hand in front of Phason¨¦¡¯s face just in case. Phason¨¦ nodded. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± ¡°You¡¯re alright, after seeing everything your brother left behind?¡± Vayra guessed the answer, and as soon as she said it, a surge of loneliness swept off of Phason¨¦ in a numbing aura. ¡°No.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be here if you ever need to talk. I promise, I¡¯ll listen. You don¡¯t have to hide it from me.¡± She pulled herself closer, trying to be a comforting presence if nothing else. But Phason¨¦ looked away. Stolen novel; please report. She didn¡¯t want to talk about that. Or maybe she didn¡¯t trust Vayra¡¯s commitment. ¡°Back before we left the planet,¡± Vayra said, ¡°when I gave Glade the elixirs, I sensed your emotions.¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled softly. ¡°I know. I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d feel this awkward, but¡­¡± ¡°But now you know how I feel all the time?¡± ¡°I guess so.¡± Smiling, Vayra leaned forwards. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Promise.¡± ¡°Yeah, I figure I will. But¡­what are you going to do with that information?¡± Vayra stroked her chin exaggeratedly. ¡°Hm¡­maybe blackmail. Phason¨¦ had a crush on a mortal, and it was me! Wouldn¡¯t that be a story to tell¡­¡± ¡°Considering half the galaxy thinks I¡¯m a traitor and the other half thinks I abandoned them? I think that would be the least of my scandals.¡± ¡°Then¡­¡± Vayra tucked her hands behind her back, and her heart started to pound. Her cheeks heated up. Something swelled in her chest and gut, like her core was exerting a completely foreign pressure¡ªbut she doubted it was an arcane force at all. All the pieces had finally fallen in place. A cloud of silt dissipated out of Vayra¡¯s mind. She breathed twice as fast. ¡°You know how I feel anyway, so¡ª¡± Phason¨¦ lunged and caught Vayra across the shoulders. It was probably supposed to be a hug, but Vayra wasn¡¯t balanced. She slipped back, then tumbled down the slope of the corespace, rolling with Phason¨¦ through the faint bedding until they came to a stop beside the pond. Vayra splayed her arms out to the side and tried to laugh, but Phason¨¦ leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips, and all Vayra could do was return the favour. They stayed together for a few seconds after. The Goddess¡¯ breath washed across Vayra¡¯s already-burning cheeks, and she figured she should say something. ¡°For two people who can read each other¡¯s minds, that was¡­harder than it should have been,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t make it easy.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t make anything easy, Phas.¡± Phason¨¦ rolled off to the side, but she still grabbed Vayra¡¯s hand. Their fingers interlocked, and they stayed completely still, staring up at the starry dome above. The sky stabilized, all agitation removed from the core, and the stars twinkled peacefully. Glade sat at the center of his core, forming the final touches of the corespace with all of the Arcara he¡¯d purified from the elixirs. He fashioned a rickety fence around the training pit, specifically crafting the wooden planks so they looked old and splintered. They were nearing the end of their use. He added a mound of stones that would have faced the shores of Pala (as best as he recalled his old master¡¯s training pit). Now, it faced off into the pink-orange void of his corespace. Over a course of days, he walked back and forth through the corespace, tracing channels for Arcara to surge straight through the core. He wasn¡¯t sure what his Path was called¡ªor if he even had one to begin with. Order Disciples never got a Path, not like God-heirs. No one expected the weak spirits of the Order of Balance to get to a point where such a concept would be useful. They learned basic sword techniques, because that was all they could muster. But he knew what a sword was. It was a tool, and he¡¯d held one his entire life. It had layers of hard and soft steel to keep it just flexible enough to not shatter, but strong enough to cause damage with. The pathways through his core had to be direct and robust. He took small steps as he traced channels around and through the core. He nudged leaves aside, and after a few days of walking back and forth, the boundary between the red and white leaves had blurred into a wavy swirl of pink-orange down the core¡¯s center. As soon as he set the pathways in place, he painted details into the sky. The void was the colour of sunset, so he kept it mostly the same. He added in a few wispy clouds, and a few patches where the empty sky peered through. Then that was it. It was complete. He pulled himself out of the corespace and launched a wave of mana through the entire core, sealing the progress and solidifying the adjustments he had made. He had finished the core, and he expected to feel something, but he should have expected this. Vayra had described to him exactly how it felt to approach the peak of First Lieutenant and not have a revelation ready. But he still needed to accumulate more Arcara, anyway¡ªotherwise, the advancement might not ever have enough energy to proceed. He took a sip from the last decanter of elixir. It was a green liquid with a slight healing aspect. He wouldn¡¯t need the healing, but it did fill his channels with a temporary coolness and relieved his spiritual sting. It wouldn¡¯t fix anything long-term, though. With the clarity of mind it gave him, he walked back and forth across the forecastle, ruminating on what a possible insight might be while integrating the energy of the last elixir. Nathariel must have sensed the progress, because he ran over to the quarterdeck. He told her the same simple insight-based questions that Vayra had told him to ponder: who he was, what he was, what his Path would mean, what his duty meant, and so on, but none of that seemed particularly useful or revealing. ¡°It¡¯s not about what you are,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It¡¯s about who you are, and how that ties everything about you together.¡± It was called the Dawnspear body, but everything about dawn could be interchanged with evening and sunset¡ªit was just a reverse. He ran a finger through his single stained lock of hair and sighed. He¡¯d been born into the autumn of the world, and for years, he¡¯d known a simple truth: the galaxy might crumble before he grew old and died. He might very well be of the last generation to sail the cosmos without the heel of an empire crushing him. He was the product of a dying Order and a desperate bid to save a star-nation, but no matter what happened, there was no going back to the way things were. The galaxy would change forever. ¡°I am the end of an era,¡± he whispered, hopeful. His core trembled for a second before quieting, and something tugged at the back of his neck¡ªalmost like a creative inspiration. But it faded within the second. Not yet. That wasn¡¯t the revelation. ¡°Almost there,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°We still have time. Keep working on it.¡± Chapter 57: Before the Plunge [Volume 3] Vayra had never seen Tavelle¡¯s port so busy. Cargo ships scuttled about the civilian port, but they were to be expected. It was the navy docks that were crowded. Frigates stood guard offshore, their sails ready to drop and intercept an approaching ship at a moment¡¯s notice. A few three-deck first-rate ships waited at the deep berths, painted in utilitarian beige and black. Such massive warships rarely made an appearance in the port of Tavelle. Between them, at the most central berth, a flagship waited. It was about the same size as the other first-rate ships¡ªthree gun decks, three masts¡ªbut golden ornaments clung to every surface. Braided golden accents circled the gun ports, and the entire stern of the ship was a relief mural of some ancient battle (with windows inserted sporadically). A red flag with a golden crossed-feather sigil hung off the stern. It made the Harmony seem bland in comparison. This was King Tallerion¡¯s flagship. There was no other explanation. The Harmony sloshed into one of the few open berths, and a single horse-drawn carriage awaited them. Only Vayra, Pels, Glade, and Nathariel boarded it. The carriage left immediately. The coachman whipped the horses, and the carriage raced through the city. It swerved around corners and bounced down cobblestone streets until it arrived at a small inner-city hall reserved for foreign diplomats¡ªother Velaydian minor lords or parliamentarians. Never would a king expect to wait in such a hall. Like most of the city¡¯s buildings, it was entirely wooden. The walls were woven roots, grown in place then dried out, and the sloped roof had miniature shingles of pinecone segments. At the hall¡¯s front gate, the four passengers met with the king¡¯s red-coated guards before advancing into the hall. ¡°His majesty is waiting for you,¡± said one of the guards. ¡°Please do not delay.¡± They walked into the main chamber of the hall¡ªa long, dimly-lit room with a few long tables and pillars at the edges¡ªand approached the king. He stood at a table at the hall¡¯s far end, discussing with advisors and military officers in red and yellow coats. They tapped maps and shuffled papers, and discussed quietly amongst themselves. A few Order of Balance Elders attended as well. Vayra, Pels, Nathariel, and Glade passed through another blockade of guards, then approached the table. After a few seconds of near-silence, with the king and his advisors speaking quietly as if no one else had approached the table, Vayra cleared her throat and prepared to announce their arrival¡ªprobably in an informal or improper way. She never got a chance. One of the guards cut her off and proclaimed, ¡°Your honoured majesty, the Mediator and her entourage have arrived in your presence.¡± ¡°Entourage, eh?¡± Pels muttered. ¡°I like the sound of that.¡± King Tallerion looked up from the table. His tired gaze washed over Vayra, Pels, Nathariel, and Glade. ¡°Ah, our team has arrived.¡± He wore a set of modest white robes and a sash¡ªVayra wouldn¡¯t have called it kingly, except that it was impossibly clean. ¡°Please, join us. We were making our final preparations for the Skyclash tournament.¡± As soon as the king acknowledged them, the advisors at the edge of the table parted, allowing Vayra and her ¡®entourage¡¯ to approach the edge. She said: ¡°Apologies, my lord¡­but what preparations are there to make?¡± The king chuckled. ¡°General strategy, a list of your competitors, and most importantly, dealing with external interference.¡± For a few minutes, they discussed a high-level overview of what the plan was: total victory was the goal, keeping a Godly authority out of Karmion¡¯s hands, but they would settle for a very high placing¡ªone that would demonstrate their strength to the galaxy and any world that was unsure about its allegiance. ¡°There are many worlds on the Line of Battle who are just looking to survive,¡± one of the red-coated commanders said. ¡°They switch allegiance every few years, and sometimes even by the month. If we show them our strength, we prove to them our ability to protect them and win this war.¡± ¡°Do you know who the competitors will be?¡± Nathariel requested. ¡°How?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have a full list,¡± said Tallerion. ¡°However, we know that every God and their family will be sending a team of Captains to claim Talock¡¯s authority. It won¡¯t be their favoured children¡ªthose in line to inherit the family¡¯s main authority¡ªbut it will be someone trustworthy and powerful. We have provided a few names from each family who we think our you could possibly face.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He pushed a long scroll of parchment towards them. Vayra took a glance at it, but it was just a point-form list of names and families, all with separate notes about their Paths. ¡°As representatives of Velaydia, you two have a great deal resting on your shoulders,¡± a naval officer in a yellow coat said. ¡°We expect that you study the list well and prepare however you can.¡± Vayra opened her mouth, a faint pang of indignance welling up inside her, but she pushed it down. Representing this star-nation was the best way to secure the galaxy¡¯s future and put the Gods in their places. And to improve herself. As Phason¨¦ had made clear, all guests of the tournament, no matter the faction, would receive rewards for victory at all rounds of the tournament, in the form of elixirs, weapons, and other magical artifacts. At least, that was how it had worked in the past. She doubted the quality of the rewards that they would give to sworn enemies like her and Glade. She glanced at Glade to gauge his reaction. He stood perfectly still and silent, his head bowed to the king. Nathariel met the king¡¯s gaze, and Pels hung back, a mere navy officer in the face of mages and kings. ¡°All of the Gods of the High Pantheon will be attending the tournament,¡± Tallerion continued. ¡°As leaders of their families, they are expected to attend such an important tournament in-person. I will attend in-person as well, to oversee and represent our strength. It would not suit our interests if I didn¡¯t attend.¡± ¡°Your majesty, that sounds incredibly dangerous,¡± Nathariel said. Tallerion adjusted his sash and tightened it proudly. ¡°The Shattered Moon is consecrated under a pact of non-violence¡ªoutside of the tournament fights, that is. I will be protected by a law centuries old.¡± Still, he glanced side-to-side, eyes landing on the guards at the edge of the hall. ¡°The Moon has its own independent force of guards, specifically trained to stop fights and maintain the peace. And I will have all my guards with me.¡± Vayra looked down with a grimace. King Tallerion had no spirit potential, and she realized now more than ever how squishy and vulnerable people like him were. ¡°Even if no one attempts to take your life at the tournament, there are long distances to travel on the Stream where we would be incredibly vulnerable,¡± Nathariel pressed. ¡°Assassins don¡¯t abide by codes of honour.¡± ¡°My guards should dissuade and deal with the assassins as much as they would in any other location. As for God-heirs, they would not lower themselves to kill a mortal.¡± ¡°But how about me?¡± Vayra asked, rubbing her mechanical arm. ¡°How long is that excuse going to stand before I¡¯m powerful enough to warrant a crushing duel? And if you were collateral damage¡­¡± ¡°That is why the Mediator will travel to the Shattered Moon in a small, unassuming advance team to register for the tournament¡ªbefore king Tallerion arrives,¡± said an Order of Balance Elder. ¡°And once they arrive, they will be safe outside of the arena.¡± Somehow, Vayra doubted that she would be safe outside the arena, especially with her presence known, but she didn¡¯t press the subject. She could deal with any attempts on her life. ¡°Captain Pels?¡± asked one of the Navy officers. ¡°Yes, Grand Admiral?¡± Pels scrambled to the table and dipped his head. ¡°Can you smuggle the Mediator and the Disciple to the Shattered Moon before the main team arrives?¡± Pels smiled. "For certain, I can smuggle them." But his face soon scrunched in confusion. "My crew can smuggle anything. But what''s the point in hiding that the Mediator is travelling separately from the King?" "For her own safety, first and foremost," the navy admiral said. "But also for the safety of the king. When she arrives and word travels around that she has entered, no one will have reason to attack Tallerion''s flagship. But we do not need to put her in extra danger along the way." Pels delivered a dutiful nod, then stepped back. "And what of the entrants'' progress?" King Tallerion asked. "The Mediator has reached Captain," answered Nathariel. "And the Order Disciple?" "He has reached the peak of First Lieutenant.¡± Nathariel folded his hands behind his back. ¡°He''s catching up, and if all goes well, he will reach Captain along the journey from Tavelle to the Shattered Moon." "Are you certain you can provide the necessary guidance to grant an Order Disciple''s Path Revelation?" an Order Elder asked. "Could you understand the life of a Disciple well enough?" "Of the two of us, Elder, only I have reached Captain. He will reach his Revelation in time¡ªI swear on my honour as a God-heir." The Harmony left the port of Tavelle at midnight. Everything was calm and quiet, and Pels made sure the crew stayed that way. There were no whistle blasts or shouts. The crew whispered orders amongst themselves. Vayra, Nathariel, and Glade stayed belowdeck, keeping out of sight. They didn''t expect spies in Tavelle, but it wasn''t out of the realm of possibilities. For good measure, Vayra had donned a Redmarine''s coat and a tricorn hat as a disguise¡ªit hid most of her easily-distinguishable features as best as possible, especially when she tied her hair up into a bun and tucked it under the hat. If there were spies, disguising the ship in port would''ve been futile, but once they slipped out onto the Stream, they changed all of the flags and dimmed some of the lanterns to give the ship a different profile¡ªat least, from a distance. As long as Pels''s plan to avoid the largest, best-travelled lengths of the Stream worked, and they drew no undue attention, they would arrive at the Shattered Moon completely unhindered. Only one problem remained: getting both of the entrants to Captain. Chapter 58: Autumn Edge [Volume 3] Glade sat alone in front of the Harmony¡¯s Namola tree. It was late at night, and Vayra, Nathariel, and Pels had all fallen asleep. All of the lanterns were dim, and the Namola fruits cast a faint pink glow around the ship¡¯s cargo hold. The swordwyrn hovered beside him, outside of his corespace. It fluttered a little, then dropped down on Glade¡¯s lap. ¡°Get you some metal filings soon,¡± he said. ¡°Alright, bud?¡± ¡°Sword friend!¡± the wyrm replied. ¡°Agreed!¡± He crossed his legs and shut his eyes, trying to tune out the rushing water outside the hull and the faint footsteps of a patrolling sentry from the current watch. He drew himself into his corespace for absolute silence. Everything was complete, but it wasn¡¯t the same. He needed the revelation. He knelt at the center of the patch of gravel, right where the two different hues of leaves met. His mind drew him back a few years, after a hard training session where he¡¯d worn the skin right off his hands. Elder Eman-Fa had brought Glade to the estate, as there had been disturbances on the planet, and rumours of a weak God-heir were circulating around the star system. Elder Eman-Fa, being a Quartermaster whose permanent residence was in the system, was best suited to the task. He had brought his Disciple along, but Glade had only spent the time training. He didn¡¯t expect to be able to use any techniques for years, and he couldn¡¯t even cycle Arcara, so there was no point in trying to face a God-heir unless it was desperate. But when the God-heir killed three other Order of Balance Adepts who had travelled along to investigate, Glade began to wonder what their purpose was. ¡°We aren¡¯t useful¡­¡± he had said. ¡°We are not useful,¡± Elder Eman-Fa had replied, walking a circle around Glade. He was an aging braadling, a race with a ring pair of black horns at the front of their head and skin that cracked and broke in a pattern like dry sand in a desert. He twirled his sword beside him. ¡°Everyone wants something, whether you are sworn to an Order or not. Find what you want, and focus on that. The Order can help you achieve it.¡± They had been sparring, and Glade was kneeling at the center of the pit¡ªin his memory, as well as in the present recreation inside his core. Glade had asked, ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°To believe in a cause,¡± Eman-Fa said. ¡°The Order has not given that to me yet, but a man can hope.¡± ¡°So why do we try?¡± ¡°I do not have anything better to do,¡± Eman-Fa said. ¡°I have no family, no parents to look after or farm to tend to. If I die tomorrow, I will die satisfied.¡± It had still seemed pointless. Then, the next day, before they could hunt and kill the rampaging God-heir, the God-heir had pushed himself too far. He had become a Ko-Ganal. He had only been a Quartermaster, too, but he became a leviathan large enough to snap up fishing boats in its jaws. It couldn¡¯t destroy a planet, but it would cause massive damage. So Elder Eman-Fa and Glade had sailed out on a tiny sloop and attacked the beast. As they battled it, Glade sailing the tiny ship as best as he could and Eman-Fa slashing through the rain and steam, they smashed through the wreckage of fishing boats and drowned, bloated bodies. Glade had started to understand why¡ªand it wasn¡¯t like what his master had told him. The Order of Balance may have been the weak, mediocre-spirited and long forgotten descendants of the Gods, but there were people weaker than them still. The mortals of the galaxy wouldn¡¯t survive on their own in a world that seemed to abhor their existence. When Elder Eman-Fa had finally slain the beast, the mortals of Pana rejoiced. There was an enormous party in a fishing village, and Glade had joined them to celebrate. That was the first time he ever felt dutiful. Presently, he stood up and walked a circle around his corespace ¡°Why?¡± he still asked, but his Elder wasn¡¯t here to give him an answer anymore. He tried variations on the almost-relevation that had caused his core to tingle earlier. Autumn, ending eras, ends in general¡­ ¡°I end things?¡± Too dark. Too simple. He didn¡¯t bring about the end. He fought to save what was left. He focussed on nostalgia. The faintly sweet smell of the maple wood brought him back to an earlier, simpler time, when he was just a boy learning to swing a sword. Nathariel had suggested focusing on who he was. Vayra had told him to think about his potential. But the Order wasn¡¯t exactly the place where potential flourished. They didn¡¯t have the resources they once did. They¡¯d even kept tight restrictions on how he should speak. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Still, every second of every day, he trained to improve aspects of himself¡ªhis swordsmanship and his ability to serve the Mediator. But there had to be more to life than that. ¡°Elder, can the Order give me freedom?¡± he breathed, still in the present. But he reigned himself back in. He couldn¡¯t just abandon his duty now. What would the point of all this be if he threw his hands up and indulge his every desire in the name of freedom? It wouldn¡¯t even last. Karmion would destroy Velaydia, and the few months of freedom he bought for himself would be worthless. ¡°So duty and freedom are not¡ªaren¡¯t¡ªopposites¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°They cannot be.¡± He turned and looked back at the pattern of leaves across the floor of the pit. Red and white. There was a duality to him¡ªeven subconsciously, he¡¯d known that. He blew an amused puff of air out his nose, but his core trembled. He¡¯d brought himself closer to the insight. Glade walked along the thin line where the two patches of fallen leaves blurred together, tracing the subconscious Arcara flows through his body with his perceived consciousness. The question remained: ¡°What is my duty?¡± He¡¯d always thought it was to die for Velaydia, or for the Mediator, or in an unwinnable battle against a God-heir. But Vayra needed a true friend more than ever, and pointless self-sacrifice was just suicide. He knew that much. There had to be be a point to it all. He needed there to be. His duty was to raise up those around him and bring hope. Ameena had told him as much. His freedom was to choose what that duty was and assert it through his own will. There was nobility in raising up others and helping them reach their potential. With a soft chuckle, he drew himself out of his core. A chill ran along his skin, and his hairs stood upright. Staring up at the Namola tree, he whispered, ¡°I can choose consciously to do my duty and raise others up. I am the dawn and dusk. I am the edge of autumn.¡± His Arcara burned inside his core, fuelling a bonfire. Without control, his body began to advance. The air compressed above his skin, then, after a few seconds of trembling, it burst away from him, scattering dust and cargo in a wave away from him. His mana and Arcara blended into one, then burst into golden sparks inside his core. They didn¡¯t stay there. Blasting outwards, they surged out of his body. They whirled into a cyclone and flashed around him. For a brief second, his muscles felt like water and his bones like pudding, but the whirlwind supported him. He concentrated his willpower, crafting himself in accordance to the Path laid out for him: a body best suited for wielding swords, for protecting, for taking hits, and to raise up others. His Arcara channels meshed with his body, turning more physical than ever and branding the sting of his current spiritual strain into his flesh. His was the Path of the Autumn Edge. Vayra heard the boom and a shudder, and at first, she thought it was cannonfire. She bolted upright in her hammock and fell onto the floor. But it had just been a single boom. Then she realized that Glade had succeeded. She had been lying in her hammock in the officers¡¯ quarters, staring up at the ceiling and trying to sleep. Phason¨¦ had already fallen asleep (or at least, the Goddess had stopped talking to try to let Vayra sleep). When Phason¨¦ didn¡¯t respond to the thought, Vayra had her answer. She sat up from the floor slowly. Adair had been curled up on her chest while she slept, but now he was in her lap, still sleeping. She placed him gently into the hammock as she stood up. Then she ran down through the ship, hunting for Glade. They were sailing on the Stream, and it had been a few days since they had left the port of Tavelle. His advancement was bound to happen sooner than later¡ªhe had been meditating almost non-stop. The moment she reached the gun deck, a spiritual tug drew her in from below. She couldn¡¯t say for certain what was happening, but it was something arcane. She ran down the stairs to the cargo hold, only to find the swordwyrm waiting for her. It spun in a circle, then raced off down the hold with a metallic whine, as if trying to guide her to him. ¡°Sword friend friend!¡± it called. It had taken to calling her that¡ªfriend of sword-friend. Vayra scrambled over fallen boxes and crates and scattered barrels. There had been a pulse of air and an explosion of raw force, and though it hadn¡¯t broken anything, it had made quite the mess. At the end of the cargo hold, right in front of the Namola tree, Glade stood in a cyclone of dawn-coloured sparks, his arms wide. Vayra shielded her eyes and pushed against the wind, drawing closer. A spark hit her hand, but it was just Arcara, and it didn¡¯t have any blazing hot aspects. Then the sparks stopped. Glade fell to his knees, and she ran over. ¡°Are you alright?¡± There was no need to ask. She remembered how she felt after her own advancement to Captain. ¡°I feel¡­fine,¡± Glade said. He looked up and smiled. ¡°Mentally exhausted, and physically too, but¡­I also feel like I could run a marathon.¡± Right now, the only difference she noted was his colour lock of hair¡ªit alone had grown down to his shoulder, and it glowed with a sunset-like light after the advancement. ¡°The exhaustion will wear off,¡± she said. ¡°You just reforged you body.¡± He stood up all the way, and her eyes widened. He was slightly larger in every possible way¡ªtaller, broader shoulders. Now, she had to crane her neck up to look him in the eyes. ¡°Oh,¡± was all she could muster. He let out a soft laugh, then stepped back. Like after her own advancement, his face had become more refined and angular. The swordwyrm danced around him, then gleefully took position hovering behind his back, like it had been tucked into an invisible sheath. Before either of them could say anything else, Nathariel raced into the hold. A team of Redmarines and officers followed closely behind, holding their muskets ready as if there was a threat to face. Nathariel held up his hand as he ran across the hold. He looked both of them up and down, then nodded. ¡°Very good, Glade.¡± He and Vayra both bowed to the Admiral. ¡°Thank you for your teachings,¡± Glade said, and Vayra nodded. Nathariel raised his eyebrows, then rubbed his chin. ¡°Aye, indeed, you¡¯re welcome.¡± He tucked his hands behind his back and turned away. ¡°Spend tomorrow resting,¡± he said as he walked away. ¡°Then use the rest of the time on our journey to recover your Arcara base. You need enough to fight in a tournament. Good work.¡± Chapter 59: The Shattered Moon [Volume 3] As the Harmony pulled into the Shattered Moon¡¯s port, a buzz steadily grew in the back of Vayra¡¯s neck. By the time they had anchored at one of the berths and tied the ship up, the buzz had spread all the way down her spine and turned to a pressure in her ears. There were hundreds of God-heirs here, and so many of them were Captains. And there were still a few weeks until the tournament began. If it wasn¡¯t for the buzz and the anticipation of the tournament, she would have run around the Shattered Moon for days, trying to get the best views of the peculiar world. But first, she had to get herself and Glade registered¡ªand make their presence known, if they hadn¡¯t already been recognized. As they stepped off the ship, she couldn¡¯t help but look around and try to take in everything. The marble piers, the bustling port, and the half-rock-half-air dome that hung high above. Sunlight poured through the shattered crust of the planet (and the enhanced wood and Moulded Arcara trellises that kept it together). The larger orange gas giant that the Moon orbited occupied half the sky beyond the shattered crust. She, Glade, and Nathariel set off through the city while Pels finished docking the ship in port. He wouldn¡¯t stay long. When the main Velaydian fleet arrived, he would join them offshore, but until then, he would have to make do in the port. They passed through a network of three-storey-tall buildings near the shore. Most were made of a pale marble like the piers, but there were still plenty of ramshackle wooden structures tacked on or squished between the others. When they reached the main street, they hunted for a way to make their entrance into the tournament known. Vayra had changed out of the Redmarine coat and back into her white cloak, sleeveless tunic, and short breeches¡ªit was the best she had for fighting, and there was no need to wander around the port city in such obvious enemy garb, even if a pact of non-violence did protect the city. Glade wore a black cloak and a hat to hide his hair, and Nathariel had just accepted a brown cloak. No matter what oaths people swore, it wouldn¡¯t stop anyone from trying to get lucky. They didn¡¯t need to make bigger targets of themselves. They found a tournament application booth at a central plaza on the main street. A short line of God-heirs waited in front of it, and mortal civilians bustled all around, peddling wares and services. The three of them slotted into the line, waiting their turn. It was midday (as best as she could tell through the cracks in the rocks), but a large chunk of rock had shifted in front of the sun and cast an enormous shadow across the continent-sized floating island. Lanterns and torches flickered to life, and a few of the God-heirs activated their seer-cores for light. The line shifted slowly. Vayra paid close attention to the process, so she could be certain that they wouldn¡¯t do anything unusual for her. The line finally shifted and she reached the booth. It was a ring of temporary wooden counters set up in the center of the plaza with a fabric awning to shelter the mortal human workers. Elderworld banners fluttered outside it and hung from the awnings, and a few bluecoats waited at the center of the circle, fiddling with their muskets. Outside the booth, guards in blue armour patrolled, carrying heavy glaives. A quick scan of their spirits revealed that they were also mortals, but they carried themselves with confidence. The runelines running down their glaives had to help with that¡ªthe weapons must¡¯ve had a significant power output¡ªand they had the numbers to back up their confidence. Holding her hands out and cycling her Arcara, Vayra approached the booth. ¡°Uh¡­hello. We¡¯re here to¡ª¡± ¡°One at a time,¡± the mortal worker said, shaking his head. He pulled up a new sheet of parchment, then an inkwell and a quill. Then, he pulled a box across the desk and drew a pin and a vial out of it. ¡°Hold out your hand.¡± ¡°Glade,¡± Nathariel whispered, ¡°you go first.¡± Glade stepped up to the booth, and again, the worker asked him to hold out his hand. Vayra had been expecting the worker to ask for their names first, but she supposed they had to verify the strength of the entrants before they wasted any parchment. Glade held out his hand, and the worker pricked the center of his palm with the pin. A glob of blood welled up, and he dropped it in the vial. After a few seconds of swirling, the vial turned a shade of pale blue. A few flecks of dark material precipitated out of the solution and sank to the bottom of the vial. Vayra didn¡¯t exactly understand how the test worked, but upon reaching Captain, the Arcara system became so integrated with the body that a simple blood test could tell a great many things about someone. Too pale, and the person hadn¡¯t reached Captain. Too blue, and the person had already reached Commodore. The worker held it up to a reference sheet on the pillar beside him, then nodded. ¡°Just barely made it. Advance to Captain recently, eh?¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Glade nodded. ¡°Name?¡± ¡°Glade Charl Arvitir.¡± The man scratched his muttonchops. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a Godly name, would you? Who¡¯s sponsoring you?¡± ¡°I fight for King Tallerion and Velaydia,¡± Glade said. The worker swallowed and took a step back. The bluecoats at the center of the booth stood up and cocked their muskets. ¡°Pardon me?¡± the worker asked. Glade placed a hand on his sword. ¡°You heard me.¡± The bluecoats stopped behind the worker. It was hard to tell with their masks, but they seemed to be eyeing the city guardsmen, trying to judge what the reaction would be. The guardsmen were watching, but they didn¡¯t budge, and neither did the bluecoats. ¡°P¡ªPath, then?¡± the worker stammered. ¡°What is yours?¡± ¡°Path of the Autumn Edge.¡± So that was what he was calling it. ¡®It has a nice ring to it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. The worker scrawled down Glade¡¯s name and Path, then said, ¡°Please move along. We don¡¯t want any trouble here. You¡¯re in, but don¡¯t expect to last long.¡± Glade nodded and stepped to the side with Nathariel, leaving Vayra at the counter alone. ¡°Next, then.¡± The worker looked directly at her. ¡°Your hand please, miss.¡± Vayra held out her flesh-and-blood hand, palm up. The worker pricked the center of her palm with a different pin until a drop of clear blood spilled out. He raised his eyebrows, but still whisked the droplet over to the vial and dropped it in. The liquid in the vial turned a shade of pale blue. He swirled it around for a few seconds, but it didn¡¯t change. He snorted, then said, ¡°Impeccable spirit potential, and you¡¯re at the right stage. No precipitate, so no blockages or char, either. You¡¯re in prime fighting condition, miss.¡± At the worker¡¯s comment, a few of the other God-heirs lingering around all turned to face her. A few shifted away nervously. The bluecoats all turned to face her, and the city guardsmen closed in on them. Two of the guardsmen poured Stream water down their glaives, and the runes lit up. The weapons¡¯ cutting edges shimmered with pale blue light, sparking and popping. ¡°Who¡¯s your sponsor?¡± shouted a God-heir in the line behind her. He was a young man with feathers for hair and olive skin, and he carried an enormous blacksmith¡¯s hammer on his back. In an instant, he Moulded daggers of shimmering yellow Arcara in his hands. They glowed, popping and sparking with the light of a forge. The guardsmen stepped in front of him. Two of them crossed their glaives, preventing him from taking another step closer to Vayra. ¡°Get off me!¡± the God-heir snapped, then struck one of the guardsmen with a fist. His knuckles glowed yellow-orange, and when they struck the guardsman¡¯s armour, the blue jade shattered. The guardsman slid back a few feet, but he was otherwise unharmed. The armour had saved his life. Two more replaced him, shoving their glowing glaives up to the God-heir¡¯s throat. ¡°Stand down,¡± they ordered. The God-heir dropped his daggers, and they disintegrated into sparks and dust. He still stared straight at Vayra. Now was a better time than any. She turned away from the counter, then pulled down her hood. ¡°My name is Vayra, and I am a Discarded. I have no family or sponsor, but I fight under King Tallerion as well¡ªfor the sake of balance in the Galaxy.¡± She jumped up onto the counter so she could see the entire crowd. A few more of the God-heirs unveiled weapons or half-formed techniques, but most of them backed away. ¡°I am the Godscourhe, and I will destroy Karmion.¡± She held out her hand and drew in a little starlight from her scarf, then used it to half-form a Starlight Palm on her fingertips¡ªenough that they began to glow white, but not enough to break the pact of non-violence. Glade and Nathariel both looked at her. Nathariel smiled, and Glade nodded in approval. ¡°And I am the Mediator.¡± ¡°And how should I reward failure?¡± Karmion asked, walking a circle around Larra. He let the veil on his core slip a little on purpose, exerting a pressure that made Larra¡¯s knees buckle. She fell to her knees. ¡°Your standing must not remain. You were once fourth in line to inherit my Godhood, but I would make you last.¡± ¡°Let me fight in your name at the tournament,¡± Larra said. ¡°I will make it right. I will destroy the Mediator for you.¡± She clutched at the tooth-shaped pendant hanging from her neck¡ªthe artifact that had once been set firmly in her pet wolf¡¯s mouth, though Karmion couldn¡¯t remember the beast¡¯s name for his life. ¡°Had you succeeded, she wouldn¡¯t be an issue,¡± Karmion said. He turned, the tails of his coat snapping behind him. He marched to the other side of his audience chamber. The Mediator had advanced to Captain because of Larra¡¯s failure. Larra hadn¡¯t been able to capture the Mediator, and the longer this went on, the longer Karmion would be trapped between perceived honour and a genuine risk to his power. He set his hands down on a table hard enough to splinter the wood, but he wrenched himself back under control in a matter of seconds. ¡°You will not be the only entrant from our family,¡± Karmion stated. ¡°You will be kept under close watch, and you will win¡ªor else. We will assert our family¡¯s continued superiority at the tournament, and by the end, one of my children will crush that girl.¡± Larra stayed kneeling on the other side of the room, her head bowed. ¡°If you want anything from me ever again, you had better win,¡± Karmion said. ¡°If you fail, I will destroy you.¡± ¡°Understood, father.¡± ¡°Now get out of my sight before I change my mind. We leave for the Shattered Moon immediately.¡± To Be Continued¡­ Chapter 1: Shatterport [Volume 4] Vayra jumped from rooftop to rooftop, navigating across Shatterport the best way she knew how¡ªon foot. She jumped off the ivory-white edges of the roofs and bounded over alleys, then scrambled up the sloped, shingled roofs. She turned sideways to cross narrow beams and swung across alleyways using banners. There was no need to draw on her techniques. She could navigate a cramped city like it was the back of her hand¡ªeven if she¡¯d only been on the Shattered Moon for three days. It was morning, and the sun pierced through the shattered surface of the planet above, its rays bearing down on the continent-sized floating island at the core of the world. Early that morning, she¡¯d heard the port bells ringing. Something was happening¡ªsomeone important was arriving¡ªand she wanted to see it. A fleet of tallships sailed down the frayed branch of the Stream that joined with the Shattered Moon¡¯s central island. She squinted. The ships were still near the upper crust of the Shattered Moon, but with Vayra¡¯s advancement to Captain came a boost to her eyesight. She could make out details of distant objects better than ever before. The ships had Velaydian paint¡ªbeige hulls, a faint blue stripe, and black ornaments, and she suspected that was what all the commotion was about. The fact that they were Velaydian. They also flew the flag of the King¡¯s Fleet¡ªa beige streamer with two red lines along it. The King¡¯s flagship sailed at the center of the fleet, a golden speck glinting in the rays of sunlight. The port¡¯s bells rang faster and louder as Vayra ran. More people were realizing what was happening. Heads poked out of windows and God-heirs lined up in the street, looking on with curiosity and mild bewilderment. Vayra jumped onto the roof of a warehouse and sprinted up the sloped shingles. When she reached the peak, she stopped. It wasn¡¯t the highest point in the city, but it had the best view. If it wasn¡¯t for the less-than-ideal circumstances, she could have enjoyed this place. It wasn¡¯t too different from Tavelle. Just¡­whiter. Less plants. ¡®More God-heirs and Bluecoats,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside her head. ¡°That too,¡± Vayra muttered. She sat down on the peak of the roof and leaned back. For the past few days, since she, Glade, and Nathariel had arrived in the port, she had been training non-stop in the small living quarters the tournament operators had afforded them. All contestants were supposed to get one, though theirs was smaller than everyone else¡¯s¡ªthat was only after they had announced that they were the Velaydian team. The King¡¯s Fleet reached the main island and sailed onto the patch of ocean at its edge. At any moment, Vayra expected a squadron of Elderworld warships to converge on the Velaydian fleet, but the fleet sailed down to the port unopposed. The Shattered Moon was consecrated under a pact of non-violence. No one would attack the King¡¯s Fleet outright, nor make any moves against the king with the armies or official contestants¡ªnot outside the tournament. But that didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t try underhanded methods¡ªespecially against Vayra and Glade. Assassination, subterfuge, poison? She wouldn¡¯t expect anything less. Already, she¡¯d sensed a group of five God-heirs chasing her through the city all morning. They were only Masters and Third Lieutenants, but there were five of them, and they weren¡¯t veiling themselves very well. For the morning, she¡¯d decided it was good practice for using her senses, but she couldn¡¯t just let them follow her forever. Whether they were proper assassins or people who thought they¡¯d get lucky, they were here to kill her. They carried rune-scripted weapons and had cores full of Arcara and mana¡ªready to use. And the roof of a warehouse was the best place to deal with them. Little collateral damage, no civilians to hurt. Sure, if she stayed in public spaces, the city guards would rush to enforce the pact of non-violence, but her attackers knew that too. They¡¯d wait for a better time¡ªand she couldn¡¯t control when that would be. Here, she knew she could win. ¡°Phas, ready with the scythe?¡± she whispered. ¡®Ready when you are,¡¯ the Goddess replied. ¡°Wonderful. Let¡¯s teach them a lesson.¡± But for all her talk of using the scythe, Vayra drew her pistol first. When the first God-heir¡ªa young man in a black cloak, Third Lieutenant¡ªpulled himself above the edge of the warehouse, she launched a beam of starlight and Arcara out through the weapon. It caught him in the chest. He immediately warded himself with a shield of wood chips and Arcara. A son of Vallor, then. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. His ward didn¡¯t last long, and the blast still seared his shoulder. He shouted, then pulled himself up and leapt across the rooftops, drawing a pair of mallets from his belt. Another two God-heirs climbed up behind Vayra. One held a musket. He fired rusty grapeshot at her, but she Warded her back with starlight and Arcara. The pellets clattered off her cloak harmlessly. The second heir stomped a foot down. Pebbles and fist-sized stones lifted from the warehouse¡¯s railing. The God-heir punched the empty air, and the barrage of stones raced at Vayra. This time, Vayra whirled around and unleashed a Starlight Palm, deflecting the Reach technique and scattering the stones across the sloped roof harmlessly. They¡¯d made a lot of noise. Now, there was a ticking timer until the city guards approached and attacked. ¡®Scythe time?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. Vayra nodded, then tucked her pistol into her belt. Then, she Moulded her scythe. Starlight leaked out of her scarf¡ªa strip of Phason¨¦¡¯s sacred artifact dress, and a permanent window into the night sky¡ªand blended with her Arcara, then formed up into tendrils and manifested as a ghostly scythe. She threw it at the stone-Path God-heir and pushed it in an arc. The stone-Path woman collapsed, the upper half of her body severed in a burst of sparks and flame. The scythe lost momentum, but Vayra and Phason¨¦ had thrown it hard. It still had enough spin to leave a gash across the musket-wielder¡¯s back. He collapsed, falling limp. Vayra held out her hand, and the scythe returned to her. She caught it and whirled around. The wood-Path God-heir was already sprinting toward her, Bracing his legs with a sawdust technique. He swung his hammers over and over, forcing her on the defensive. She blocked with the haft of her scythe, retreating down to the other railing of the roof. His strikes hit hard, but he was burning through mana fast¡ªshe could see that much. The last two God-heirs leapt up onto the roof. Like the others, they wore black cloaks, but their eyes shone blue, and they held cutlasses. Lightning crackled along the blades. Both were Third Lieutenants. Vayra twirled her scythe behind her, deflecting a swipe from each, but bolts of lightning and electricity still shocked her and charred her cloak. She gasped in mild discomfort, but she was still in charge. ¡°Phas, remember the thing we were practicing?¡± Vayra rolled to the side, putting all of the God-heirs in front of her. They fanned out in an arc, adjusting their footing to match the slope of the warehouse¡¯s roof. ¡®The thing?¡¯ ¡°You know,¡± Vayra whispered, deflecting an overhead swipe. ¡°Oh, just read my mind.¡± ¡®Right. The thing. Alright, give it a try. If you get an electric cutlass to the gut, don¡¯t blame me.¡¯ ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± Vayra dispelled the scythe, then Braced her own legs and sprang back across the roof, giving herself distance. The three God-heirs still approached, and they were fast, but Vayra was faster. Phason¨¦ slipped out of Vayra¡¯s body, manifesting as a wireframe of white lines and ghostly starlight. Vayra¡¯s hand brushed the Goddess¡¯ wrist as she leapt out, and Vayra fed Phason¨¦ as much mana as she could in the brief interval. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost was still only a fraction of a God¡¯s true strength, but it could hit harder than Vayra could on her own. Vayra might have focussed on speed and agility, but Phason¨¦ could still hit hard. They might not win an arm-wrestle with a forge-Path God-heir, but they could still do damage. Phason¨¦ made a fist and, empowered by the burst of mana Vayra had given her, struck one of the lightning-Path God-heirs in the chest. She hit hard enough to cave the man¡¯s chest in. He collapsed on the spot, dead. It was a precise, blunt strike. Vayra leapt into the opening and launched a Starlight Palm at the wood-Path God-heir. A three-foot-tall handprint of pale blue light shone through the air and blasted into the man. Less precise force, spread out, but still enough to fling him back into the sloped edge of the roof. He smashed through the shingles and plummeted into the warehouse below, unconscious or dead. The last God-heir swung his cutlass hard and fast, using a Bracing technique of his own. He cut through Vayra¡¯s cloak and left and thin slice down her back, but she Warded herself in time to absorb most of the blow. The lightning probably stung more than the cut. She and Phason¨¦ turned around in unison and faced the God-heir. They both shook their heads in unison. The God-heir yelled and swung one more time, but Vayra reached out and pinched the flat of the cutlass¡¯ blade between her thumb and her first two fingers of her mechanical hand. She couldn¡¯t feel the lightning. She activated the disruption runestone in her mechanical hand, triggering an aura of Arcara disruption. The technique faded from the sword¡¯s blade, and the lightning fizzled out. Vayra¡¯s mechanical hand wasn¡¯t bound by the limits of her body. Its strength changed with the strength of her Arcara. The stronger her Arcara, the stronger her hand, and she was a Captain now. She pressed down, squishing the blade between her fingers. The steel shattered. Before she could say anything, Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost used the last dribbles of mana Vayra had fed her and kicked the God-heir off the roof. He plummeted to the street below, but with the strength of the kick, he was probably dead before he hit the paving stones. ¡°See?¡± Vayra said. ¡°Worked out.¡± ¡°You got a cut,¡± Phason¨¦ said, her voice ringing out normally in the air. ¡°And the lightning stung.¡± ¡°Still not used to it?¡± Vayra grinned, but it didn¡¯t last long. A troop of city guards in blue jade armour sprinted down the street, holding up glaives and shouting. They were too late to stop the fighting. ¡°Ah, we¡¯ve gotta go. Wanna get back inside me?¡± ¡°If it means you do the running?¡± Phason¨¦ asked. Her ghost puffed into white sparks and slipped back into Vayra¡¯s body. ¡®Gladly,¡¯ she said, speaking inside Vayra¡¯s head once more. Vayra took one last glance back at the port. She had wanted to see what would happen when King Tallerion disembarked from his ship, but that would have to wait, now. ¡°Back to the contestant housing it is, then.¡± Chapter 2: The Arena [Volume 4] Vayra sprinted back across the rooftops of Shatterport, but this time, she used her Bracing technique¡ªAstral Shroud. It wasn¡¯t like most full-body Bracing techniques; it focussed only on speed and agility. She flashed from rooftop to rooftop with a cloak of white fire burning around her. It was a mixture of starlight and Arcara, and it burned with the energy and heat of the stars, but she exerted control over it. It couldn¡¯t hurt her or burn her haversack and clothes¡ªunless she allowed it to. But she didn¡¯t. She had enough control. She darted into a shaded strip of the city. The shattered crust of the planet overhead blocked the sunlight, casting sections of the central floating island in shade. In the direct sunlight, her Astral Shroud might have looked like just a glint of metal on the rooftop¡ªat least from a distance¡ªbut in the shade, she was like a star shooting across the city. It wasn¡¯t subtle, but if anyone hadn¡¯t heard she was here yet, they¡¯d been living under a rock. The Shatterport guards trailed behind, in the streets and on the rooftops, but they couldn¡¯t keep up with Vayra while she had her Shroud active. As she leapt over buildings and jumped between rooftops, they rescinded into the distance, then disappeared altogether. Shatterport only covered a small portion of the floating island. The closer they got to the edge of the city, the shorter and stubbier the buildings got, until finally, they faded completely into the wilderness of the island. Deciduous trees quivered in the wind, their leaves golden or red. White brick roads paved trails through the autumn forest, and the largest trail of all¡ªwide enough to fit four wagons or carriages across it¡ªled straight toward the arena. Vayra sprinted along it, weaving between wagons, trotting horses, and just mortals on foot. Some were vendors, trying to peddle wares to the contestants and viewers, and some were just intrigued guests who wanted to see how the tournament would progress. But they had come from all across the galaxy. The arena rose up above the treeline like a mountain range. At the moment, rays of light poured down on it from outside, making its round outer walls glow and shine like a distant wall of pearl. The arena was a miniature city of its own, with ramshackle buildings creeping up its walls like vines and accumulating at its base like snowdrifts¡ªmassive, brown snowdrifts of rotting wood, tarp, and shingles. The arena itself was an enormous ring, with enough risers to fit hundreds of thousands¡ªand possibly even millions¡ªof viewers. They weren¡¯t full yet, but some people had already staked out spots in the stands, and tent cities were forming. Vayra had never had so many people watching her fight before. ¡®Good thing most of them hate you and will cheer for your demise,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Good thing?¡± Vayra exclaimed as she sprinted along the road, still using the Astral Shroud. Her mana was dwindling, but she could hold it a little longer. ¡®Well, if they were on your side, there¡¯d be more pressure to perform.¡¯ ¡°I¡­I suppose. But the pressure¡¯s gonna be there regardless.¡± Vayra leapt over a wagon train, then slipped between a pair of mortal noblemen trotting on horses. ¡°I have to perform, and we have to be perfect.¡± ¡®I wouldn¡¯t say you have to be perfect, but¡­¡¯ ¡°But you can¡¯t deny that there¡¯s a lot riding on this.¡± ¡®Correct.¡¯ When Vayra had burnt through three quarters of her mana, she cut off all her techniques and dropped down to a walking speed¡ªright outside the arena walls. She had to crane her neck upward to see the top of the arena¡¯s outer walls. The arena had a main entrance. It was a ten-storey tall portcullis gate, with city guards in blue jade armour standing at the edges. Two enormous statues flanked it, each holding out a hand and an Arcara-suspended sphere. But Vayra wasn¡¯t taking the proper entrance. She climbed the outside of the arena, jumping between buildings and hovels and fabric awnings. The contestants¡¯ quarters were near the top of the arena, and they were a part of the arena itself. Vayra could have taken the inside route, but this way, she didn¡¯t have to dodge any other contestants or foot traffic. And the other ways weren¡¯t as fun. After a few minutes of climbing, she slipped into the arena through a hole in the wall and navigated through a hollow space between the outer wall and the inner wall. She scampered between boards and hauled herself through tight spaces, until she arrived at another crack in the wall that she¡¯d scouted out earlier. She slipped through it. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Vayra tumbled out into a dimly lit hallway. It was a section of the contestant¡¯s quarters¡ªa block of apartments and living spaces near the top of the arena for all the contestants to wait in before their battles began. The floor had rugs and carpet, and lanterns hung from the ceiling. Doors clung to the walls at even intervals, and behind them, Vayra sensed at least one presence, but sometimes two or three. The majority were Captains¡ªthe best, most skilled, and strongest of their generation. But among them were stronger advisors. She felt the weight of Admirals and Grand Admirals in some rooms, too. Vayra ran up to the third level of the contestants¡¯ quarters and navigated to a room on the far wing of the complex. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. ¡°Vayra!¡± Glade exclaimed as soon as she stepped inside. ¡°Where were you?¡± ¡°Just¡­scouting the harbour,¡± she replied, panting. ¡°King Tallerion has arrived.¡± ¡°And just in time,¡± Nathariel grumbled. ¡°The opening ceremony is tomorrow.¡± Vayra stepped into the center of the room and turned around in a slow circle. Their apartment had a central living room with a small window on the far wall. The living room was only about five paces across, but two bedrooms branched off it¡ªeach barely a closet with a hammock in them. In theory, there was only room for two people (¡°If you only have two contestants, you only need two sleeping chambers,¡± the quarter managers had explained with a look of disdain plastered to their faces), but Nathariel slept in the living room. He¡¯d pulled out a bedroll from his voidhorn and made do. Vayra ran to the window and looked over the arena below. A three-mile wide ring of seats surrounded a seemingly tiny central arena. In actuality, it was still a thousand hundred feet across, but compared to the seating area, it looked like a coin at the center of a fruit bowl. ¡°How¡¯s anyone gonna see anything?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°In the past,¡± Nathariel explained, ¡°Atrous, the God of the Sun, has manipulated light to form a projection of the events.¡± Sixteen towers lined the edge of the arena, looming over and watching down on the fight. Each displayed a colourful banner and a sigil. They were the High Pantheon¡¯s personal watchtowers. The towers were the only structures in the arena not made of white stone¡ªrather, the assorted colours and materials associated with their godly inhabitant. Of course, Phason¨¦, a newly inaugurated Goddess, didn¡¯t have a section¡ªand she didn¡¯t need one at the moment. Talock¡¯s tower, a structure of wood, with thatched roofs and simple windows, now flew the flag of King Tallerion, in anticipation of his presence. ¡°Yeah, no pressure,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°You are bleeding,¡± Glade commented, pointing at the thin slice along her back. His swordwyrm, a giant blade with a rusty, wyrm-infested hilt, hovered behind his shoulder. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡­ran into some guests at Shatterport,¡± she said. ¡°Guests?¡± ¡°Alright, assassins. But I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just a nick, and I dealt with them. They were only Masters and Third Lieutenants.¡± Nathariel rubbed his forehead. ¡°They¡¯re not going to stop. We need to be on our guard. From now on, no one leaves this room alone¡ªand that includes me.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and sighed, but she understood the logic. She might not be able to take private excursions to the city anymore, but it¡¯d keep them safer. She unclipped her cloak and tossed it over one of the living room¡¯s chairs, then pulled open her haversack and retrieved a bandage. Her enhanced body¡¯s healing would kick in soon, and she could have it mended within a half-hour, but she didn¡¯t want to leak all over the floor during that time. Once she cleaned herself up, she sat down on the chair. Every room received a supply of Stream water¡ªeven theirs¡ªwhich dripped out of a pipe and pooled in a basin beside Vayra¡¯s chair. She dipped her hand in it and absorbed mana from it. Glade sat on the couch opposite of her, and Nathariel paced across the center of the floor. Phason¨¦ manifested her physical form behind Vayra and leaned against the backrest of the chair. For a few hours, they continued their afternoon routine. Nathariel laid out pamphlets of parchment, each detailing their potential opponents and their Paths, and they reviewed it, trying to get an idea of their potential opponents and the best ways to deal with them. Vayra tried to stay attentive. With Phason¨¦¡¯s help, she ingested more of the information than she probably would¡¯ve otherwise¡ªwhat the Goddess perceived, Vayra felt glimpses of and glimmers of. Their minds weren¡¯t the same, and neither were their souls, but their link was stronger after the advancement to Captain. Vayra had half-dozed-off by the time the sun set over the edge of the arena, so when someone pounded on the door, she leapt to her feet with a fright and cycled Arcara. She¡¯d refilled her mana over the course of the day, and had plenty to use. Glade drew his own smaller longsword, and Nathariel retrieved his Moulded Arcara spear. He crept to the door and pulled it open. Two Redmarines and a man in a green coat stood outside. The Redmarines set Vayra¡¯s heart at ease, and the green-coated man piqued her curiosity. He had no spirit potential, but he carried himself with importance. He stepped inside the room and delivered a slight bow, then adjusted his tricorn hat and wig-scrolls. ¡°Greetings, honoured Velaydian contestants. I am Mr. Barrow, the aide of King Tallerion, and he formally requests that you visit his tower in order to prepare for the opening ceremony tomorrow.¡± ¡°Pre¡ªprepare?¡± Vayra tilted her head. That¡¯s what they¡¯d been doing for the past few days. ¡°Aye, madam,¡± said Mr. Barrow. ¡°You are representatives of the Velaydian executive branch at the moment, and you must look the part. We will get you cleaned up and¡­¡± He motioned at both Glade and her. ¡°...in appropriate formal attire. We cannot have our contestants looking like street rats.¡± Vayra gulped. ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows your history,¡± whispered Phason¨¦, still in physical form. ¡°There is nothing to worry about, madam,¡± Mr. Barrow said. ¡°If you come with us, we will have everything set for you in no time at all.¡± [Announcement] Book Launch + New Fiction Hey everyone! Just letting you know that the first volume of this book is now live on Amazon. No matter what, I''ll keep posting chapter updates here, though, and I''ll maintain the same posting schedule. Nothing about your current reading experience will change! (And a chapter will still be coming out today at the usual time!) I want to extend a massive thank you to everyone here who supported the story so far, no matter what for it''s in. Without you guys, I wouldn''t have been able to keep going! However, if you''d like to support the release, you can find it here: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0D8CW5Z3L Even if you don''t buy the book, leaving a rating or review is always really helpful and helps support me as an author. Also, if you''d like, I have another fiction posting that just launched on RR today. It''s a deckbuilding/cultivation/litRPG with scifi vibes and complex worldbuilding, and I hope it''d be enjoyable to anyone here! If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/91190/hyperspace-hunter-litrpg-cultivation-deckbuilding Blurb: Second chances are rare. Hyperspace mages are even rarer. When Jace wakes up in another galaxy, he has no choice but to absorb a starship¡¯s hypercore to survive. It might give him a head start to his advancement and an array of unconventional abilities, but it¡¯s unstable. If he doesn¡¯t keep advancing, his body will fall apart. He has to hunt wild beasts just to level up and stay alive. Worse, cultivating a hyperspace Path is forbidden¡ªand punishable by death. A farmhand from earth wasn¡¯t prepared. There was no warning, no tutorial, and no free technique cards. But there¡¯s an intergalactic cataclysm to stop, and maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªa world where Jace can finally have a purpose. The choice is his: a mundane existence, or something more? Jace chooses the path of legends. That''s it for now! Once again, thank you so much to all of you! Chapter 3: Opening Ceremony [Volume 4] When the king¡¯s maidservants brought Vayra and Nathariel away into a small side chamber in the Velaydian tower, they left Glade alone. Thought we weren¡¯t supposed to do that. But they were still within the safety of the Velaydian tower, and while it was marginal safety at best, the King¡¯s guards and Order of Balance Adepts filled the tower. If assassins tried to reach them when they were this high, someone would see and raise the alarm. Besides, Glade was still the only Disciple here, though he was more powerful than almost all of the current Order members. He expected the King¡¯s servants to arrive and drag him off at any moment, where they¡¯d shove him in a fancy coat and formal attire, but he stood alone for a few minutes. Then the door swung open. Two Elders with black coats and white hair marched in. One was a middle-aged woman with dark skin and pointy ears¡ªElder Gheita¡ªand a broad man with a short, white beard¡ªElder Miin. Glade bowed to them both, then glanced back at the swordwyrm. It still floated upright. ¡°Bow,¡± Glade whispered to it, and it bent over to match him. ¡°Disciple,¡± Elder Miin said, folding his hands behind his back. Miin was only a Master, and he probably felt just as awkward as Glade did with the Order hierarchies, especially facing a Captain. ¡°We are very proud of you, and we have received express permission from the entire Gray Council to promote you.¡± But if these elders were feeling awkward about the situation, they weren¡¯t showing it. Glade raised his eyebrows. They wouldn¡¯t be able to see his expression anyway. ¡°You have performed beyond all expectations,¡± Elder Gheita said, ¡°and your old Elder would be very proud of you.¡± Glade shut his eyes at the mention of Elder Eman-Fa. After a few shaky breaths, he said, ¡°Thank you for the kind words, Elders.¡± Elder Miin pushed aside his coat and unclipped a second longsword from his belt. He set it on the ground in front of Glade. ¡°We would like to formally make you an Adept of the Order, and by presenting you this sword, we would ratify the act.¡± Glade kept his head down in respect, but he reached out to the blade. The scabbard was simple wood and leather, but even without unsheathing it, he could tell the sword was going to be more important and special than that. The crossguard was silver steel, but filigree strips of Moulded Arcara ornamented it. It was yellow, either sun-aspect or forge-aspect, but both were vaguely compatible with his Path, now. It¡¯d improve his connection with the sword beyond what he could ever have imagined. He wrapped his fingers around the leatherbound hilt and drew the blade. Three feet of polished steel slipped out of the scabbard. It had a cutting edge on both sides of the blade, and a line of script ran down the fuller. In an ancient language of humans it read, Sun Splinter. That was the sword¡¯s name. ¡°I am extremely grateful for this opportunity,¡± Glade said. He tucked the sword back into the scabbard. It wasn¡¯t his yet, but he¡¯d break it in like a new boot. He glanced down at his hip, where his old sword hung. It was a simple Disciple¡¯s sword, meant to be replaced or handed down¡ªor more likely, turned to scraps and shards to fuel his techniques and feed the swordwyrm. Glade let out a slow breath. Part of him hesitated, and a distant, deep slice wanted to reject the Order¡¯s offer. It wanted him to say that he was on his own, and to strike off into the world on his own. He didn¡¯t need their stuffy rules and tradition. But the Order had raised him and gotten him this far. He could bend the rules. It satisfied the gnawing voice in the back of his mind. ¡°And I accept the promotion,¡± Glade said. ¡°Then by the power of the Stream and authority of the Velaydian Crown, you are an Adept,¡± said Elder Miin. ¡°When you attach that sword to your belt, the promotion will be complete.¡± Glade picked up the sword and buckled it to his belt, then set his hand on its hilt and stood up. The swordwyrm straightened up behind him, too. ¡°Thank you, Elders,¡± Glade said. ¡°One day,¡± Gheita said, ¡°I expect you to join us here.¡± Vayra stood in front of a wooden gate. The next day¡¯s morning light shone through the cracks in the door, and a fanfare sounded out in the arena beyond. She and Glade waited in a dark chamber with a couple hundred other God-heirs. Her neck was tingling from their presences, and she wasn¡¯t nearly as used to the pressure as they were. They had been doing this their whole lives. Most of the other God-heirs stood in pairs, each holding flags of their own¡ªwith crests resembling their Godly families or their homeplanet¡¯s sigils. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. She had donned a white robe with blue trim and a tight cumberbund. It wouldn¡¯t get in the way while she fought, but it was still pristine and elegant, and probably the most expensive thing she¡¯d ever worn. Unless, of course, she counted her mechanical arm and leg, but she didn¡¯t. Her hair fell down her back in a long braid. A cheer roared from outside the gates, overshadowing the fanfare. Vayra wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. ¡®The sound will do constant damage to your hearing,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside her mind. ¡®Make sure to cycle Essence to your head and keep it healing.¡¯ ¡°Is Adair doing alright?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®He¡¯s clinging on in your corespace. He¡¯s none the wiser.¡¯ ¡°You fed him this morning, right?¡± ¡®Couldn¡¯t forget. He was nipping at my heels the whole time.¡¯ Vayra nodded. She hoped the mortals in the crowd had some sort of protection¡ªor maybe they just didn¡¯t care. It didn¡¯t hurt, but she knew her ears would be ringing after the day was done. With a shout, the arena guards heaved on the gate. It creaked, and the sand floor shifted. A slice of light spilled into the chamber, and the cheering doubled in strength. She tightened her starsteel vambrace, then pushed her pistol further down into her cumberbund. There shouldn¡¯t be any fighting today, but she couldn¡¯t be too certain. Glade stood beside her, holding a standard with a Velaydian flag hanging limply off it. He wore a new coat now, but it was still black. Golden embroidery clung to the lapels and ran down the back. His longsword hung at his side, glinting in the dim light, and the swordwyrm hovered behind him, its hilt wagging like a dog¡¯s tail. They were halfway down the line, in a non-prominent spot that wouldn¡¯t get much attention¡ªwhich was fine by Vayra. As soon as the gate swung open all the way, the line marched in unison. God-heirs marched out into the light, standing side-by-side. A few of them had small animals on their shoulders or walking at their sides. As far as she understood, contracted beasts and animal companions were more than welcome at the tournament. ¡®I don¡¯t count as a contracted beast, do I?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°Close enough,¡± Vayra whispered. She stepped out into the sunlight with the rest of the line. ¡°Same effect, right? Bent my core to a starlight aspect immediately?¡± ¡®I suppose¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ sighed. ¡®Everyone here is the best of the best, and the luckiest of the lucky. They¡¯re all the geniuses and monsters of their generations, with tricks up their sleeve and powerful abilities, just like your Mediator Form.¡¯ ¡°Pay attention to the crowd,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°See if you recognize anyone.¡± The arena had ten gates in total, and there were nearly two-hundred God-heirs pouring out from each gate. She didn¡¯t have exact numbers, but¡­there were more of them than she thought. Not all of them had a Godly sponsor. Some had their sector governments sponsoring them, and some had powerful and wealthy mortal families backing them. They might have been descendants of a God and used the God¡¯s realm of authority, but they didn¡¯t use a God¡¯s direct family¡¯s Paths. If she thought she was unique in crafting her own Path and picking and choosing her sources of technique inspiration, she was completely wrong. The lines filed out into the center of the arena. From the sandy floor of the fighting pit, the crowd¡¯s risers looked twice as high as they had from the contestants¡¯ quarters. All the contestants formed up into neat, orderly squares, like an army preparing for war. Ten squares, each with a hundred different banners blowing in the slight breeze. Vayra had expected a strong spiritual presence from each of the towers around the arena, for each of the Gods in the High Pantheon. They must have been veiling themselves; she felt nothing. But they had to be present. She glanced up at the wood and thatch tower that would¡¯ve once belonged to Talock. Nathariel was supposed to be her and Glade watching from there, but she couldn¡¯t pick out anyone in particular past the tower¡¯s viewing windows. King Tallerion and the Elders of the Order were supposed to be watching, too. Once all the contestants stopped and found their places, a chorus of horns blasted another fanfare. Elderworld trumpeters stood on a distant platform, and there had to be hundreds of them. This time, the fanfare blared loud enough to overwhelm the crowd, and the cheers slowly died out. All the contestants dropped to a knee, and Vayra and Glade did the same. No one had briefed them on protocol¡ªprobably in a bid to embarrass them¡ªbut they mimicked everyone around them. No need to stand out yet. Their performance would speak for them. Everyone¡¯s gazes turned to Karmion¡¯s tower. It was a spire of dark blue stone with sharp, jutting ornaments and Elderworld banners. A lone figure hovered overtop the tower, wearing a dark cloak with a hem of seafoam and rippling waves¡ªthat was what supported him. A tricorn hat barely clung to his head in the breeze, but the wind whisked away its plume of water entirely. Karmion. A flash of light rippled over the fighting ring of the arena, bathing all the contestants in a golden shimmer. A thirty-storey projection of Karmion hovered above them, amplified so the entire crowd could see. They let off one last collective cheer at the sight of him, but the fanfare reached a peak, and the trumpeters played a long, loud tone, silencing the crowd for good. ¡®That confirms it, then,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡®Projection by the sun god.¡¯ ¡°Welcome, all, to the Skyclash tournament!¡± Karmion said, spreading his arms. ¡°I¡¯d like to thank you all for coming, and especially to extend a warm welcome to my brothers and sisters of the heavens. Lastly, I would extend a hearty welcome to our two guests from Velaydian space.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened and her stomach dropped. A yellow spotlight shone down on them, illuminating them for the whole crowd to see. Everyone was silent. She had expected some jeering, or maybe even a boo, but none came. They were too afraid of cutting off Karmion. ¡°I wish them¡­luck in this feeble attempt to show the galaxy their worth.¡± The spotlight cut out. ¡°That is all.¡± He glanced around, then smiled again. ¡°The rules of the tournament are simple: the contestants will progress through a series of mass elimination tasks in order to whittle their numbers down. After each successful round, they will receive a prize. Advancement during the duration of the tournament is allowed, and no punches should be pulled. If a contestant dies, then they die. However, in the case of grievous injuries, we will provide the best healers we have available.¡± Karmion¡¯s projection clapped its hands together, then dipped its head. The strands of light began to fade, but before they disappeared entirely, Karmion said, ¡°The first round begins tomorrow¡ªin the woods beyond. Prepare yourselves.¡± Chapter 4: Soul Kitten and Commodore [Volume 4] Myrrir kept his head down all throughout Karmion¡¯s speech¡ªuntil the beam of light illuminated Vayra and Glade, and Karmion drew everyone¡¯s attention to them. They were right there, and old instincts took over. He wanted to jump to his feet and sprint through the crowd, then snatch up the Mediator and proclaim that he¡¯d caught her. It wouldn¡¯t be so easy, he knew, but his chance was there. Tye wasn¡¯t even present to hold him back¡­ Not present. Not present. As if somehow, his old first officer would return from beyond the grave¡­ No, Myrrir restrained himself. Not only would it be foolish and suicidal, but he doubted it would earn him any favour with his own father. He needed to prove that he was worthy of godhood and worthy of his father¡¯s praise once more. He needed to prove he was strong. He stared up at Nilsenir¡¯s tower, a spike of Stellacovan sandstone and red shingle eaves. He couldn¡¯t sense his father, but he knew Nilsenir was in there somewhere, watching disapprovingly. Well, time to prove him wrong. Larra snarled when the beam of light shone over Vayra and the Order¡­Disciple? Adept? Whatever he was now. She raised her hand and clasped the pendant hanging from her neck¡ªthe sacred treasure, the tooth of her friend, Gnasher, and all that remained of him after the Mediator had her way with him. It still functioned, it still temporarily raised the quality of her Arcara, but it was missing something¡ªsomeone. Besides, she fully expected advancements from most of the other competitors. If they weren¡¯t all admirals by the end of the tournament, they weren¡¯t trying hard enough, and they¡¯d be eliminated before long. She nearly crushed the flag¡ªa standard the the Elderworld crest on it¡ªin her grip. She¡¯d win the tournament and prove her power again. She¡¯d avenge her friend¡­ Vayra tried to sleep that night. She tried her best, and she kept promising Phason¨¦ that she was trying, but nothing came of it. She laid on the hammock, staring up at the ceiling and hoping that she¡¯d just pass out. Her arms quivered. She wasn¡¯t ready. After a few hours of lying still and not moving, Phason¨¦ said, ¡®Alright, alright, let¡¯s do something, then. You think you¡¯re unready? Then let¡¯s train. If you¡¯re gonna keep me awake, then we better get something out of it.¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡®I can read your mind. Yes, you do. Besides, Adair has the midnight zoomies, and he¡¯s running around my feet.¡¯ Vayra sighed, then mentally conceded. ¡°Yes, alright.¡± Rolling out of the hammock, she yawned, then flexed her mechanical hand. She¡¯d gotten better at using it, and moving it was second nature. But activating the runestone wasn¡¯t, not yet. And especially using it in a chain of attacks? If she was going to improve anywhere, that would be where. Nathariel was asleep in the common room, and Glade in his own chamber, but Vayra had just enough room in the little hammock closet to practice. As long as she didn¡¯t hit anything or make too much noise, she wouldn¡¯t wake up her companions. She unclipped the hammock from the wall and folded it up, then took a fighting stance. She practiced the unarmed strikes that Nathariel had drilled into her, mocking a pattern of Starlight Palms and kicks. Every three strikes, she activated the disruption runestone. A pulse of invisible energy radiated off it, cancelling all techniques and disrupting Arcara circulation in an arc away from her. But she had to let the Arcara filter out of the runes and fade away before she could use it again, or she might overload the runstone and damage it. Still, whenever she used the runestone, she still hesitated for a second or two. She had to direct the energy into it through a separate starsteel channel that she hadn¡¯t used often. When it reached the runestone, she had to apply enough willpower to fill all the cracks and activate the pattern, then direct it away from herself so she didn¡¯t disrupt her own Arcara cycles. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. She didn¡¯t know how long she practiced. The cramped little room only had a single window, but a chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust floated overhead at the moment, blocking the starlight and the planetlight from the orange gas giant. (Vayra had called it moonlight once, which Phason¨¦ had corrected¡ªthey were on the moon right now, so it was planetlight. They were distinct concepts when it came to elemental authority, though there were no Gods of Planetlight.) ¡®Thank you for catching yourself,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented lightheartedly. ¡°Welcome,¡± Vayra whispered. They practiced for a few more minutes after that. Vayra wouldn¡¯t call her ability to use the runestone perfect, and it¡¯d take more practice, but she cut down on the hesitation. She sat down and leaned against the wall, then looked up out the window. Nothing but a dark, empty sky. Not even a star or two. It had to be one of the worst views. ¡®That¡¯s your biggest concern? The view?¡¯ ¡°Just a thought¡­¡± Vayra rolled her eyes. ¡°Far from my biggest concern. Just trying to relax.¡± She shut her eyes and pulled herself into the corespace with Phason¨¦. She walked through the garden of silver-green plants and approached the little cabin at the center, then leaned against the wall. Phason¨¦ sat cross-legged on one of the flagstone walkways outside the cabin¡¯s entrance, still wearing her starry void dress. ¡°Came here to bug me in person?¡± she teased. Adair ran laps around her, only pausing every few seconds to stop and rub against her knees. When the kitten saw Vayra, though, he turned and scampered toward her. He¡¯d grown since she¡¯d first found him in her haversack, and was about half the size of a full-grown cat now. Reaching down, she ran a hand along his orange fur and scratched him between the ears. ¡°We need to do something with the soul kitten,¡± Vayra muttered. She picked Adair up and cradled him, then took a few steps closer to Phason¨¦. ¡°Not that I mind feeding him elixirs and spirit water, but¡­he can¡¯t stay inside the corespace this whole time.¡± Phason¨¦ chuckled. ¡°You need to find a use for him. You¡¯re turning him into a spirit beast, and I¡¯m sure you could use some of his abilities.¡± ¡°Abilities?¡± ¡°If you form a bond with an animal, or a spirit beast of any sort, you can take some of their traits,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Nathariel might know more, and he might be able to help, but the principle is the same. Complete the connection, cultivate the right traits, and you can take some of them for yourself.¡± Vayra sat down beside Phason¨¦ and let Adair crawl between their laps. ¡°So¡­I get claws? Cat ears? Don¡¯t see how that helps.¡± Phason¨¦ snorted. ¡°You might display a few physical traits from time to time, but that¡¯s not the benefit.¡± She waved a twig in front of Adair¡¯s face, and without a second thought, he pounced on it. Phason¨¦ held it out over the trail, wiggling it side-to-side, and Adair chased after it, matching each move perfectly. He changed directions without any delay. ¡°Cats are some of nature¡¯s best adapted hunters,¡± Phason¨¦ pointed out. ¡°Their innate reaction speeds can match that of a fully-powered Admiral, and their reflexes are near perfect. They can sense and smell fear, and their agility and maneuverability isn¡¯t anything to shrug at.¡± ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t like cats,¡± Vayra muttered as Phason¨¦ dragged the stick along the ground. Adair pounced on it every time, and the goddess let out a few gasps of delight. ¡°I¡­never said that,¡± Phason¨¦ replied. ¡°I was¡­uh, well, I wanted something more exotic.¡± She scratched the back of her head with her free hand. ¡°But I¡¯ve come around. With your innate speed, and your glass-cannon build¡­well, a cat as a bonded companion wouldn¡¯t be the worst. And he¡¯s cute.¡± ¡°How do I do that?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°How do I form a proper bond with it?¡± ¡°You¡¯re halfway there. By feeding and playing with him, he¡¯s grown attached to you. As he gains more sapience, he¡¯ll develop a soul, and it¡¯ll already be naturally disposed to your soul¡ªwith you having practically raised him. As long as your channels can pass Arcara between you and the cat, you should be able to draw on some of his characteristics.¡± So just more time, then. Still, for good measure, Vayra performed a spiritual scan of Adair. He hadn¡¯t formed a core yet, but thin, wispy Essence channels ran through his body, and with each tiny breath he took, he cycled the dregs of mana in his body in a rudimentary pattern. It was progress. She ran a hand down his back, and naturally, a little wisp of grey matter near the base of his neck gravitated toward her hand. His soul. It was a basic cat¡¯s soul, with just a little bit more to it, but the more he cycled, the more alike it would be to a human¡¯s. A wisp of Arcara passed between her hand and his body, and for a brief moment, her fingers twitched, reacting instinctively to the feel of the fur. ¡°I¡­see,¡± she said. Adair flopped onto his side and yawned, and let out an almost human noise. ¡°He¡¯s getting tired, too,¡± Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Are you tired yet? Or a little calmer?¡± ¡°A little bit.¡± Vayra picked up Adair off the flagstones and placed him in her lap¡ªthat way, if he fell asleep, he¡¯d be easier to move. ¡°I can guarantee everyone else will be advancing during the tournament, and if we don¡¯t keep pushing toward Commodore, I don¡¯t know if we can keep up.¡± ¡°Remember,¡± Phason¨¦ commented, ¡°we¡¯re meant to punch up against higher-stage opponents.¡± ¡°And there¡¯ll be plenty of those, I imagine,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°How many people are going to do what Glade did and ruin their channels just to push a little higher? It¡¯ll give them a better chance at victory?¡± ¡°Quite a few¡­¡± ¡°We need to advance too, then. What do we need to do to reach Commodore?¡± ¡°The Flag Officer stages¡ªCaptain to Grand Admiral¡ªall require a revelation, an insight of sorts, to reach the next stage. Assuming, of course, you¡¯ve accumulated enough Arcara to complete the advancement.¡± Vayra nodded. She placed a hand on Adair¡¯s back and breathed in time with him, hoping to calm herself down a little bit more. It had worked in the past, and she¡¯d slept in worse places than this. ¡°What¡¯s the Commodore insight?¡± ¡°Purpose of the Soul,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Captain is purpose of your Path, which is inherently spiritual, but your Commodore revelation is harder to hit. It¡¯s harder to explain. It¡¯s the¡­reason for your willpower, what keeps you moving forward. It¡¯s deeper in some places than the Path revelation and shallower in others.¡± Vayra sighed. The Path revelation was hard enough. Now, she needed the insight for an even more difficult revelation. Wonderful, just wonderful. ¡°There¡¯s a reason so many God-heirs get stuck at Captain,¡± Phason¨¦ continued. ¡°Only around an eighth of the God-heirs who make it to Captain ever make it to Commodore.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and nodded. ¡°Thanks for the heads up.¡± She¡¯d expected that conversation to stress her out further, make it even harder to rest, but a calm settled on her. There was a route forward, and that was exactly what she needed. She knew how to push for advancement. ¡°Right, then, Phas,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow morning, then. Bright and early.¡± Chapter 5: Reaching Depths [Volume 4] The meeting chamber of the Emissaries wasn¡¯t as formal on the Shattered Moon as it was on Mascant, and nothing was official, but Karmion needed a meeting. They stood in a dim, low-ceilinged chamber beneath the arena floor. Mouldy brick walls encroached on a rectangular table, and a lantern flickered in the center. There were no chairs, but there was more than enough room for all the gods to gather. ¡°She can¡¯t win,¡± Karmion asserted, leaning on the edge of the table. ¡°If she does, we¡¯ll have a god working against us.¡± ¡°She can¡¯t accept the power of another Emissary,¡± said Vallor, God of Ships. ¡°It¡¯d rip her apart.¡± ¡°Her team, then,¡± Karmion stressed. ¡°You all know what I speak of.¡± The gods all grumbled and muttered until Karmion slammed his hand down on the table, silencing them. ¡°So keep sending assassins, and have your children target her, on and on, and see how far you get,¡± Brannul, Goddess of Wind droned. ¡°Until she¡¯s strong enough that you won¡¯t look weak and dishonourable killing her. What do you say? Wait until she¡¯s an Admiral? Grand Admiral?¡± ¡°If I have to, I will face her at Grand Admiral, and it will still be a slaughter,¡± Karmion rubbed her forehead and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. ¡°But I would rather this be done as soon as possible, and in a way that doesn¡¯t involve her death.¡± ¡°So what if she dies?¡± Atrous, the Sun God, asked. ¡°The Stream will pick another Mediator, but they¡¯ll be starting from scratch. It might be one of us who gets it, too.¡± ¡°One of us?¡± Karmion snorted. ¡°So you¡¯d volunteer to put yourself in a Mediator¡¯s body and be trapped for the rest of your life?¡± ¡°I¡¯d volunteer to work for you as a Mediator.¡± But Karmion couldn¡¯t trust that. He kept his face expressionless and only stared at Atrous, and hopefully, the Sun God would understand that he had spoken completely out of line. If another member of the High Pantheon took control of a Mediator, and, with the Stream¡¯s blessing, rose to a godly level¡­they¡¯d be just as much of a threat to Karmion. And no Emissary would ever be content to be weak. With the Mediator¡¯s power, they could be the strongest. But Karmion had his public reasoning, too. He raised his fingers, silencing the murmurs. ¡°The girl is only a half-phoenix. The Stream chose someone with a soul less robust than most Mediators. Her bond with her goddess is weaker. We can imprison her more easily than any other Mediator.¡± He marched around to the side of the table, stepping behind Nilsenir and the Moon Goddess. ¡°We¡¯ve learned from Talock¡¯s Mediator. If the Mediator doesn''t advance, then they¡¯ll die of old age, and a new one will turn up for us to deal with. We end it now, for all eternity.¡± ¡°Why the meeting, then?¡± asked Farrir, God of the Forge. ¡°You already have your plan. Keep rigging the tournament, keep the godly authority out of her or her friends¡¯ hands, and you¡¯ll have everything you need.¡± ¡°Because we can trap her, now,¡± Karmion snarled. He unveiled his spirit a touch, exerting a threatening pressure over all the other gods. Most of them bowed their heads. ¡°I won¡¯t tolerate this dissent for much longer,¡± he said. ¡°I have let you keep your lands and your sects, and own large sectors of space. If you¡¯d like to keep it, you will serve me.¡± He couldn¡¯t just order them to attack the Mediator for him or to invade Velaydian space. Someone would find out about it, and no matter what, a god doing battle would leave casualties. They¡¯d tear up and destroy city-sized swaths of land, and they¡¯d kill millions of innocents. Word would get out. And once their underlings found out they¡¯d lowered themselves to fight such a weak opponent¡ªa girl who¡¯d only been able to use her magic for a year¡ªthey would lose faith in their god. That was the last thing a god needed. When someone reached the Emissary stages, they couldn¡¯t just advance on sheer power or revelations. They needed to become an icon of faith, to tap into the galaxy¡¯s perception of them. They¡¯d lose physical power if their public perception soured. And if all the other gods worked together, they might be able to overwhelm Karmion. He couldn¡¯t afford to anger them all, and they couldn¡¯t afford to anger him. ¡°We will rig the tournament, of course,¡± Karmion continued, ¡°but we have the chance to make her disappear. As soon as we knock her out of the tournament, we will spring our trap.¡± ¡°It only works if you tell us what the trap is,¡± Farrir countered. He hadn¡¯t backed down from Karmion¡¯s pressure earlier, and a faint whisper of defiance burned in his eyes. As the forge god, he had a broad form and bulging muscles. An enormous warhammer clung to his back, and he wore a greasy, sleeveless tunic. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. His eyes glowed yellow as he cycled Arcara, partially unveiling his spirit to match Karmion. ¡°I sense displeasure.¡± No sense in letting anything fester too long. ¡°Speak openly, or don¡¯t speak.¡± ¡°If she wins, we all lose. I don¡¯t like losing.¡± Karmion¡¯s heartbeat slowed a touch. That was a better attitude. He walked another lap around the table and stopped behind a tall, olive-skinned elf with long, brown hair. She wore a golden dress and a circlet of flowers and twigs. Kalawen, Goddess of Love. She hadn¡¯t been born to any of the other members of the pantheon, but she had risen on her own from a powerful elven family many centuries ago. Her workings with the soul were unmatched in the galaxy. ¡°I need you to lend your authority,¡± Karmion told her. ¡°I have many shadowthorns in my possession, but I have none that attach to the soul directly, only the spirit. But if we can drive a wedge between the Mediator and her bound Goddess, then she will be much easier to imprison.¡± ¡°I can do that, my lord,¡± said Kalawen. ¡°But I will need more guidance on what you need this¡­special thorn to do, and how it will truly affect her soul.¡± ¡°That can be arranged.¡± ¡°Imprison where?¡± Nilsenir tried. ¡°How? My servants have tried, but no prisons made by men will contain her, and she has the only Namola tree in the galaxy.¡± ¡°Ah yes,¡± Karmion smirked. ¡°The only one. The tree that was in my possession for nearly a century, which conveniently, I never plucked a single fruit or branch from?¡± ¡°But only the Mediator could pluck a fruit.¡± Not true. Only someone who could use the power of the Mediator Form could pluck the fruit, but that restriction meant nothing when Karmion could manipulate the water within the tree, bending its branches and roots and removing all safeguards. Karmion stared at them and shook his head. ¡°I am no longer bound by the rules of this world. I am a ruler, and all life bows to me.¡± The other gods stayed silent. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I thought. You have my word, brothers and sisters.¡± He spread his arms. ¡°I will put this to an end. But you will need to do your parts as well. Make sure your teams are ready, and take her out of the tournament. Once the public eye is off her, we will make her disappear for good. Tomorrow is the opening phase. Don¡¯t even let her onto the main bracket.¡± Karmion walked across Shatterport¡¯s wharf. He wore a thick cloak and a hood, and no civilians would recognize him¡ªespecially not at nighttime. He marched back to his ship, a first-rate man-of-war. Three gun decks loomed over the marble piers of Shatterport, painted in the standard white, black, and beige of the Elderworld fleet. Its sails clung neatly to the yards, and rigging formed a net over the sky. He ascended the gangplank. The sentries knew who he was, and they knew better than to question him. He could wipe the mortal sailors out just by unveiling his core, and they knew it too. He climbed the quarterdeck stairs and walked around the wheel hub, then approached the great cabin. A first-rate ship had two stern decks¡ªthe quarterdeck, and the afterdeck behind it. Beneath the afterdeck was his personal cabin. He pushed the wooden door open and stepped inside, then shut it behind him. He sealed the window¡¯s shutters with a thought, blocking out the light from outside. A soft pink glow emanated across the room. It glinted off his maps and tables, his porcelain and glass, his harpsichord, and his closets and weapons racks. He approached a stout Namola tree. Like the Harmony¡¯s Namola tree, it sprouted out from the deck. Its roots melded with the boards below, like they were one and the same. But his tree was different. Its fruits were brighter, less natural, and less effective¡ªlike a bloated body. Glass tubes ran up from the deck. They jabbed into the branches and trunk of the tree, feeding it spirit water and elixirs, and forcing it to mature in a matter of decades instead of centuries. Its branches, laden with green leaves and apple-sized fruits, pressed against the ceiling and spread out, making the canopy nearly ten paces wide. Its trunk was a set of interwoven, black tendrils, darker than they¡¯d have been on a natural Namola, and its leaves were blighting at the edges. But he could still control it. He held out his hand toward the tree, and, using his most powerful Reach technique, he manipulated the water within the branches. He sensed a Captain-stage presence nearby, watching and observing his habits, and he tolerated it¡ªhe knew exactly who it was. She could use a little more motivation, and a demonstration might help. The branches shifted and adjusted. Some of the black tendrils broke off, curling up into shackles, and others turned to daggers. It was the pinnacle of his Path, the Path of the Striving Depths. To control the water within another being, and one as strong as the Namola tree? If he could trap the Mediator in the tree, it would be the strongest prison ever. Slowly, he turned around, and faced the dark shadow clinging to the rafters. ¡°Did you truly think you could hide from me, daughter?¡± Larra dropped down from the ceiling, landing in a crouch. ¡°Teach me. I want to learn. I need to learn.¡± ¡°You will not learn on the Namola tree,¡± Karmion said. It was the most powerful of trees, and she wouldn¡¯t master it. ¡°Prove to me that you can Reach the water within another being, that you can affect blood, and I will teach you the Deeping Grasp. You are not yet worthy of my most powerful techniques, not after your failure on Harvest Sanctuary.¡± He knew exactly what buttons to push to calibrate her¡ªto set her on the trail he needed. Larra looked down at the deck. ¡°I will prove my strength, father. What is your target?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be watching. Tomorrow, in the forest, do not bring any freshwater with you.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°There should be enough blood around, no? What is the main component of blood?¡± ¡°...Water.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Chapter 6: Mass Elimination [Volume 4] Vayra and Glade stood in a designated clearing in the forests of the floating continent. Orange leaves shrouded the sky, and the dark trunks clung so tight together they almost formed a cage. Only a few rays of early morning light pierced through. She shifted back and forth. Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under her feet, but the ground below was solid, packed mud. A bush rubbed against her shin, and she inched away. Of course, she¡¯d found one of the only bushes in the nearby area. Otherwise, it was empty ground and trees¡ªenough obstacles to test the skills of the contestants, but not enough to make fighting impossible. Her core was full of mana, her scarf was tight, and her scratches from earlier had healed. She was ready to fight. ¡°There are too many contestants to place into a traditional bracket,¡± Karmion¡¯s voice boomed, racing across the continent from a distant point. Vayra couldn¡¯t see him, but he was strengthening his voice enough for all to hear. ¡°Only a quarter of the contestants from this phase will advance to the next, where the one-on-one fights will begin.¡± Vayra glanced at Glade. They were a team, and they had both been brought out to a starting point in the forest together. While they didn¡¯t have to stay together, the guards saw them as one, and allowed them to start side-by-side. There was nothing to stop team play in the tournament, but if only one of them met the conditions to stay in the tournament, then only one of them advanced. ¡°In order to advance,¡± Karmion continued, ¡°The contestant must reach and maintain control of an island Shrine. They must control it for long enough to claim an Essence Drop from the shrinehead and present it to the guards at the central clearing as proof of their victory.¡± Vayra and Glade had been briefed on the event beforehand¡ªand given an empty glass vial to catch the Essence Drop in¡ªbut Karmion was explaining for the benefit of the crowd. While this event didn¡¯t take place in the arena, a set of risers loomed over the forest canopy in the distance, marking the location of the central clearing. Only the most important guests could watch this event directly. Thirty columns of golden sunlight erupted around the forest, forming a three-mile wide circle around the central clearing. Those had to be the Shrines. Conveniently, Vayra and Glade were as far away from a Shrine as they could be. They were on the north side of the outer bounds of the contest area. They¡¯d be scrambling alongside a horde of other contestants just to make it to the Shrine, not to mention take control of it. ¡®Convenient¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered sarcastically. ¡°Stick together,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°We take control of a shrine, we get a drop for each of us, then we sprint to the central clearing as fast as we can,¡± Vayra whispered. They¡¯d been over the plan a few times, but it still felt a little too simple in her mind, and she wanted something more. ¡°We¡¯re going after the shrine to the east?¡± But they didn¡¯t know more. All they could do was react. ¡®It shouldn¡¯t make a difference which shrine we aim for,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t,¡± Vayra concurred, ¡°but we need to work together.¡± ¡°The east one works for me,¡± Glade provided. ¡°Contestants,¡± Karmion called, ¡°prepare yourselves.¡± His voice rattled the leaves and made the branches quiver. ¡°The event begins in three¡­two¡­one¡­now!¡± Vayra and Glade sprinted to the north, weaving through the forest. They ducked between trees, keeping their heads down as they swerved side-to-side. Vayra only had a vague idea what the Shrines would look like, but there was nothing else in the forest¡ªshe¡¯d know it when she saw it. ¡®And don¡¯t forget the beams of light,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed out. Vayra tilted her head up. The canopy thickened overhead as she ran, but not enough to block out the columns of light entirely. ¡®I would tell you to keep down and not draw attention until you absolutely have to,¡¯ Phason¨¦ added. ¡®That way, no one will target us for being too strong.¡¯ ¡°But Karmion already outed us,¡± Vayra whispered, turning sideways to slip between two trees. ¡°We have a big target on our back with or without showing off our power.¡± ¡®Which is why I was going to tell you to go fast,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The longer we stay out, the more time we waste. They aren¡¯t going to show us mercy.¡¯ Glade wasn¡¯t using any Fortification techniques, but with his enhanced body, he could run faster than an average human. He could put more strength into every step. With each passing second, he gained ground on her. The gap between them separated. She couldn¡¯t have that. She activated the Astral Shroud, then blazed off through the forest, snaking and slaloming through the trees. She leapt over fallen branches and plowed through the sparse bushes. After a few seconds, she had to slow down so she didn¡¯t blast past Glade. They ran side-by-side for a few more seconds, but a stray technique from a different God-heir¡ªa blast of stone pellets¡ªtore through the forest, flattening a swath of trees in front of them. They broke apart, navigating around the blast, then regrouped on the other side. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Two God-heirs (both captains) fought each other, but Vayra and Glade put them behind and kept sprinting. More bolts of colourful Arcara and Reach-manipulated elements chased after them or shot straight up into the sky. Explosions ripped through the forest, and flashes of light seared her eyes, leaving azure stains in her vision. Whenever a blast surged too close to the observation stands, a wall of water rose up, blocking and deflecting the Arcara before it could do any damage to the guests and observers. They approached the steady beam of golden light. Through the forest, a mound of grey stone peered through the trees. A two-storey tall eagle statue mantled a platform of stone, and the beam of light joined to its head. That was the shrine. The eagle¡¯s stone wings formed walls on three sides of the round pedestal, and a stairway led up to a bowl at the center of the fountain. Runes glowed red on the side of the bowl, and starsteel chains bound a lid atop it, preventing any prying hands from reaching in and cheating the system. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®A pool of Essence Drops,¡¯ Phason¨¦ answered. ¡®One of the most powerful elixirs Karmion can make. A single drop was enough to enhance the cycling rate of any who took it.¡¯ ¡°It¡¯s not dropping anything,¡± Vayra said. She deactivated the Astral Shroud and stopped at a tree only a few paces from the edge of the clearing. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to drop something, right?¡± She ducked down, half hidden by the tree. Glade stopped beside her. ¡°It is assessing the nearby auras,¡± Glade commented. ¡°If there are more than two, it will not drop any.¡± ¡®Hence the red runes,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡°Gotta be the only one on the platform, then,¡± Vayra said. She sprinted out of the woods and held out her hand. Mentally, she requested the scythe, and Phason¨¦ understood right away. Starlight bled out of her scarf and Moulded the scythe in her hand. She and Glade rounded the shrine, approaching it from the stairs. Three God-heirs clashed on the platform. One used a sword-Path, like Glade, but hers also had a poison bend to it. Another, a tall man with a silver parrot on his shoulder and a tattered tricorn hat, was a son of Nilsenir¡ªand Vayra recognized the gunpowder-based Path of the Darkflag. The last wielded a staff and used a wind Path. Vayra didn¡¯t know any of them from the list of potential adversaries. They couldn¡¯t have been too important. But, for good measure, she searched through her bond with Phason¨¦, just in case the Goddess had picked up on anything Vayra hadn¡¯t. Nothing. ¡°I¡¯ll take the powder-Path guy,¡± Vayra said, whirling her scythe up into a fighting position. ¡°I will deal with the sword woman,¡± Glade replied. ¡°And we¡¯ll split the last between us?¡± ¡°I have no objections.¡± Myrrir had the fortune of starting closer to a shrine than most, but there were still two other God-heirs who¡¯d arrived before him. A middle-aged man on an ice-Path and a young man, probably considered a prodigy where he came from, who used daggers and pulses of raw force. He had no clear godly sponsors. Myrrir drew his jade sword and let the heavy blade weigh on his limbs, then charged into the fray. In a matter of moments, he incapacitated one. The other, bleeding from cuts that his flurry of blows had left, retreated. Once Myrrir was alone on the platform, the runes on the bowl turned from red to blue. A single nozzle let elixir drip out, but the runes still contained it, and the elixir dripped painfully slowly. A rim of glowing, neon orange Essence Drop elixir accumulated on the spout. It¡¯d be minutes before enough accumulated to drip out. He retrieved the vial the guards gave him. When it dripped, he¡¯d be ready, but he let his senses focus on the elixir for the time being. But already, a new presence unveiled itself. A lapin woman swung down from the trees, guiding herself with maple vines. She wore a leotard of wrapped bandages and wielded a staff of Moulded Arcara and wood. Brown vines wrapped around her hand, and maple leaves floated in the air behind her. She landed in a crouch in front of Myrrir, holding her staff off to the side. ¡°Wait, wait! You¡¯re Myrrir! I¡¯ve heard about you! You¡ª¡± The runes on the side of the bowl turned red, and the Essence Drop stopped flowing. ¡°You¡¯re getting in my way,¡± Myrrir said, then swung his sword at her. It wouldn¡¯t be as easy as he thought, but he wasn¡¯t going home on the first round. Larra started as far away from a shrine as possible. That was probably on the command of her father, but she wouldn¡¯t shy away from the challenge. She was on the southern half of the contest area. Hundreds of different victims littered the area, and all of them had blood of some kind. She didn¡¯t even need to be close to a shrine. First, she approached a stone-Path woman only a few years older. The woman hoisted an obsidian-tipped spear and turned to face Larra, but she wasn¡¯t fast enough. Larra engaged Karmion¡¯s technique as best as she could. She¡¯d pierced together parts of it from observing her father, and she knew how to cycle her own Arcara to make it work. She just needed to remember and use it. She held her hand out toward the stone-Path woman. The woman slashed a few times, and Larra dodged each swipe. Nothing happened. She could sense the blood in the woman¡¯s body, but there were a lot of other impurities in it¡ªnot just water. Manipulating saltwater was more difficult than fresh water. It was further removed from the elemental authority of her Path. Blood was even further removed. She clasped her other hand around Gnasher¡¯s tooth and let her power surge up to the strength of an Admiral¡¯s. Her thoughts centered on her friend and her mission, and she forced extra willpower into her technique. ¡°Stop!¡± she yelled. The woman¡¯s blood halted for a fraction of a second. It refused to circulate. Larra lost control after a second, but it had been enough to throw her opponent off-balance. She grabbed the stone-Path woman¡¯s spear and crushed the haft, then snatched her neck and crushed it. It didn¡¯t matter if she lost a suitable victim. There were plenty more targets to try it on. Chapter 7: Essence Drop [Volume 4] Vayra knew exactly what to expect from the gunpowder-wielding wizard in front of her. He lashed out with tendrils of the black powder, turning them into sharp spikes or trying to bind her weapon. She slashed through them, the heat of her scythe detonating the little beads of gunpowder on contact. The God-heir¡¯s path extended to control over explosions, especially at his power level, and he always directed the blasts outward at Vayra. She Warded herself and dodged. Both of them activated Bracing techniques at the same time, and he unleashed a flurry of fast blows. She leveraged her speed to block and deflect them, then lashed out in the gaps between. For every strike he threw out, she blocked and counterattacked. First, she struck his inner wrist and activated her runestone, disabling his Arcara and shutting down his bracing technique. Then she slashed his other arm with the blade of her scythe, leaving a glowing gash. By the time his flurry had ended, he hadn¡¯t left a scratch, but she had sliced a cross-hatching of wounds across his skin. The wind-Path God-heir swung his staff down at Vayra, splitting her and the pirate apart for a second, but the swordwyrm retaliated and harried him, forcing him to block a few more heavy flying sword swipes. The pirate drew on his bird companion and Moulded feather-shaped blades of gunpowder-Arcara. They hovered in the air behind him. He launched them, but Vayra unleashed a Starlight Palm and knocked them all aside. She jabbed her scythe¡¯s blunt end down at the man¡¯s foot, locking him in place, then drove another palmful of starlight into his gut. He tried to stagger backward, but she kept him in range. He tried to swat her, but she reached up and snatched his hand, then tightened her mechanical fingers around it. He shouted and deactivated all his techniques, then halted his cycling loops¡ªa sign of surrender. Vayra struck him on the head with the blunt haft of her scythe, knocking him unconscious, then pushed him over the side of the shrine. The wind-Path heir lunged at her again, and they traded blows between the scythe¡¯s haft and the wind-enhanced staff, but with the swordwyrm¡¯s help, she pushed him back up against the wall. He panted, and he was nearly out of mana, but he still wasn¡¯t surrendering, and he was still aiming deadly blows at her head and neck. She pinned his staff and pulled her pistol out of her belt, then directed a concentrated beam of starlight through it. It pierced through his heart, killing him in an instant. Whirling around, she faced Glade. The swordwyrm inched closer. But Glade had everything under control. With a shout, he twirled his sword, and cleaved the swordswoman¡¯s head from her shoulders. She hadn¡¯t been giving up, either. Against the Velaydians, when so much honour was on the line? ¡°You stay on the shrine first,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Get one Essence Drop.¡± ¡°Then you must trade places with me,¡± Glade replied. ¡°I will not abandon you.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Vayra sprinted down to the ground around the shrine and took a fighting stance, ready to push away any invaders who tried to hold the shrine for themselves. As soon as she stepped onto the ground, the runes on the Essence Drop vat turned blue, and bright orange elixir started accumulating on the spout. Glade held out his vial. Rumbles and shouts rolled through the forest. Occasionally, a contestant would scream. Arcara whined and screeched, and techniques smashed against each other. Flashes of light blasted up into the sky, and bursts of force made the trees tremble. A chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust moved in front of the sun, darkening the island, and all the colourful Arcara blasts seemed to double in brightness. Vayra deactivated her own techniques to conserve mana. They needed to hold the shrine for two minutes each, and they needed enough strength to carry the Essence Drops to the central clearing. Only one more God-heir attacked her while Glade gathered his Essence Drop, but Vayra fought the woman off with a chain of Starlight Palms. The woman sprinted away into the woods, seeking easier prey. Once Glade had his drop in his vial, Vayra traded places with him. She ran to the spout and grabbed her glass vial, preparing to catch the next droplet. A pair of water-Path God-heirs, children of Karmion, approached, but Glade and Vayra both launched ranged Reach techniques at them, fighting them off and holding them back until they gave up. When the Essence Drop spilled out the spout, Vayra caught it, then corked her vial. The neon liquid seethed, straining against its bonds. It wanted out, and it wanted to be used. It didn¡¯t seem like a substance that she should ingest¡ªand she couldn¡¯t until she presented it to Karmion. ¡®Very few elixirs will seem palatable when they¡¯re this strong,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®Just get it to the central clearing, and we can worry about using it later¡ªif they even let us keep it.¡¯ Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Vayra sprinted off the shrine and ran to Glade¡¯s side. The swordwyrm flattened and hovered a few inches above the ground, waiting for him to climb atop it and fly it. Vayra activated the Astal Shroud. ¡°Race you to the clearing?¡± she asked. ¡°I will meet you there,¡± Glade replied. He stepped onto his sword. They sprinted off through the forest. Vayra set the blocky stone audience stands in the center of her vision and kept it there, even as she slipped between the trees. Glade flew on his sword, hovering just above the treeline. Halfway to the central clearing, they swerved to the west to avoid a swath of burning forest. An out-of-control contracted beast¡ªa tree-height bison made of ice crystals¡ªrampaged, forcing them to skirt around the edge of the clearing and approach from the south. Only a few paces from the central clearing, a God-heir leapt into their path. He wielded a musket with a bayonet of Moulded sunlight-Arcara, and he launched a beam of concentrated golden light from the musket¡¯s barrel. It seared through the forest and sliced a tree, but Glade interrupted it with a swat of metal filings and sword-Arcara. Vayra launched a Starlight Palm into the man, and he staggered back. ¡°Phas, how are we doing on mana?¡± Vayra asked softly. ¡®You still have a third left. Just get past him, and¡ª¡¯ The sun-Path God-heir¡¯s eyes widened and his throat bulged. He dropped his musket and clasped at his neck, but nothing touched him. Vayra hadn¡¯t done anything. Then his chest caved in, as if struck by an invisible palm strike. His clothes nor flesh didn¡¯t rip from the direction of the impact, but a spurt of blood shot out his back. He collapsed. Vayra spun around. She hadn¡¯t done that, and Glade couldn¡¯t have any techniques that could cause that. ¡°What¡¯s this? I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see you here!¡± Vayra held her hand out and mustered her scythe. That voice¡­ Larra. ¡°Vayra!¡± Glade yelled. ¡°Get to the clearing!¡± Aside from Karmion¡¯s protection¡ªwhich she didn¡¯t have much faith in¡ªthe Shattered Moon¡¯s guards waited inside, guarding anyone who made it to safety and breaking up any residual fights. Larra emerged from the gloom of the forest. She wore a long, dark coat, and a cloak with sea-foam edges. Her wolf¡¯s tooth hung on a necklace in front of it all, blowing in the wind. At the moment, it was raising her to the power of a Commodore. She didn¡¯t carry any water with her, and she hadn¡¯t pulled out her three-part staff. Vayra turned. There was no need to fight right now. If they ended up in the same bracket, then they could fight. She turned and sprinted to the central clearing. As she sprinted, something tugged on her left wrist¡ªon her flesh-and-blood hand. On? No. Inside. Her blood churned, pulling against her and trying to drag her back toward Larra. Larra held her hands up, and her fingers glowed with Arcara. She was manipulating Vayra¡¯s blood. The control wasn¡¯t perfect¡ªnot yet¡ªbut Larra must have just learned the technique. If she¡¯d already gotten strong enough to slow Vayra down¡­ ¡°Vayra!¡± Glade shouted. He stood on the ground beside her now. The swordwyrm slashed at Larra, forcing the woman to duck under the blade, and Glade lashed out with a Reach technique, slashing Larra¡¯s cheek with metal filings. Vayra slammed the disruption runestone into her own arm and activated it, freeing herself from Larra¡¯s technique¡ªit had to be a Reach technique. Larra¡¯s hold shattered, and Vayra sprinted away at full speed. She and Glade stumbled into the central clearing. Panting, Vayra held up her vial of Essence Drop. The guards closed in around her and Glade, preventing anyone from the forest from attacking, then shepherded her and Glade away from the edge and into the center, where a set of brown-coated adjudicators were judging the Essence Drops and confirming the contestants had completed the task. Vayra and Glade weren¡¯t the first to arrive, but they were far from the last. Only about fifty other God-heirs had arrived before them. Vayra and Glade approached the table at the center of the arena. She felt a weightless pressure on her shoulders as she approached¡ªhundreds of eyes all settled on her, observing her and judging. There was a single wooden booth near the top of the risers, where a troop of redmarines, King Tallerion and his guards, and Nathariel sat. Tallerion¡¯s face read of relief, and Nathariel of satisfaction. Still, as they approached the table, Vayra couldn¡¯t help but look back over her shoulder and stare out at the woods. Larra didn¡¯t enter¡ªshe hadn¡¯t hadn¡¯t gotten an Essence Drop yet, but there was plenty of time. But Vayra didn¡¯t know the range of this new technique. Maybe Larra would try to drag her out. But there was nothing. Worse, Vayra had no counter to it. The more Larra developed it, and the more she expanded upon it, the stronger it¡¯d become. ¡®Not the time to worry about that,¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed out. ¡®We need the adjudicators to confirm that we¡¯re still in the tournament.¡¯ Vayra nodded, then blinked a few times, long and hard, trying to purge the residual feeling of her blood rebelling against her. It didn¡¯t work, but her mind stopped running in circles. She ran with Glade the rest of the way to the table and set their vials down. The adjudicators lifted the vials and stared at them, tapping the sides or swirling the glass around. They jotted down notes and compared them to a colour chart. They were probably looking for any reason whatsoever to disqualify her and Glade. Let them try. Her Essence Drop was perfect. She tapped her foot and let her gaze wander. Most of the other God-heirs who had already arrived looked exactly as she¡¯d expect¡ªtall, muscular, and wearing pristine and elegant clothing. A few of them panted, but most retained their composure as they stood and waved at the crowd. And then there was Myrrir. He knelt, wearing dirty and ragged red robes and dented brass armour. His shoulders slumped and he leaned on his jade sword, heaving breaths. He must have arrived just before them. ¡°Mediator!¡± an adjudicator called, snapping his fingers. ¡°Your vial is good. Take it, and do what you want. Consider it your reward for the first round of the tournament. You passed, and you¡¯re onto the next phase.¡± Chapter 8: Internal Warding [Volume 4] Larra arrived in the central clearing after a half-hour of experimentation. She was almost too late, but she still drew herself into the top five hundred contestants, earning a spot in the next round. She staggered toward the central table of the clearing and slammed the Essence Drop vial down on the table. ¡°Judge it. I¡¯m in time.¡± She hadn¡¯t counted all the other contestants, but if they weren¡¯t taking any more, the beacons of light wouldn¡¯t still be shining. Blood covered her from head-to-toe, but it wasn¡¯t her own blood. She shut her eyes and pushed the water away, but she could only control the water, so it left a dry, crusty coating across her skin and coat. There had been a few trials and plenty of errors. Controlling another being¡¯s blood wasn¡¯t a simple feat, nor was imitating Karmion¡¯s cycling patterns. He¡¯d probably been hoping she¡¯d drop dead from the strain and effort, but she didn¡¯t. Her tooth pendant had to boost her to Admiral in order for her to use the technique effectively, but it still worked. She still cobbled together a technique. But¡­accidentally ripping apart other contestants? Well, that was an understandable loss, really. She didn¡¯t have excellent control of the ability yet. It was a hammer, but she needed an engraving needle. When people realized what she was capable of, they¡¯d develop defences. But precision was harder to defend against than raw manipulation of blood. It was a good first day, but she needed more time to experiment with the technique. She¡¯d have to find more victims¡­ Karmion was supposed to be watching over the central clearing, but he let his spiritual perception do most of the hard work. If a stray technique threatened the guests of the tournament, he¡¯d intercept it. Instead, he watched the contestants. He knew who¡¯d make it to the final rounds just by how quickly they arrived, which made it all the more frustrating when Larra came in only a few places before elimination. Her technique had progressed significantly beyond her first attempts, but it would still need lots of practice. She could strike at the blood of an opponent and temporarily take control of it, but like most high-level techniques, it would become a constant battle of willpower. The higher stage an opponent was, the more they used Arcara and mana to drive their body¡ªnot blood and muscles. He was somewhat impressed, then, but he couldn¡¯t ever show that. Larra needed to keep striving, and it was best if she thought he was horribly disappointed in her. Besides, she was still serving him and representing his name, and if she was going to do battle against the Mediator, she couldn¡¯t appear so weak. She had made herself¡ªand Karmion¡ªlook weak. The Mediator had come in well before Larra¡ªfiftieth or so, which was admirable for her unfavourable starting position. Worse, the girl had already pushed herself higher and stronger than just captain. She was well on her way to Commodore. He shut his eyes, and for the first time in centuries, a sinking feeling pervaded his stomach. The Shattered Moon might be the site of their final duel, after all. After the opening phase, Vayra and Glade returned to the contestant quarters to rest and recover. In a few days, the brackets would be set, and the fights would begin, but they didn¡¯t know when their first duels would be. It could be up to a week away. In the meantime, they both processed their Essence Drops. It¡¯d be a massive advantage to anyone who had one¡ªthe Drop was a hyper-condensed elixir that lingered in the spiritual system for the rest of the user¡¯s life. It provided a continuous willpower magnification effect to the user, allowing for faster cycling and more effective techniques. Everyone who got one would see a slight power boost. But since everyone got one, it wasn¡¯t much of a prize for the tournament itself. Still, nearly five-hundred contestants moved on from the first round, and there were too many of them to receive extra rewards between rounds¡ªnothing more than an Essence Drop, If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Vayra swallowed the single neon orange drip of elixir and let its power flow out into her channels, then cycled it until the blazing neon power wasn¡¯t perceptible in her spiritual senses any longer¡ªor, more accurately, it had just integrated seamlessly with the rest of her Arcara. To test it, she stood in the common room of the contestant¡¯s quarters and unleashed a chain of Starlight Palms. They burst out faster, with more power, and she didn¡¯t have to focus as much on cycling in order to make them activate. Glade finished integrating his Essence Drop a moment later, and he used it to practice a set of Reach techniques with metal filings. He whipped a chain of filings across the floor, leaving a slash and scraping up chips of stone. The swordwyrm abandoned its giant broadsword host and scampered along the ground in its rusty form. As the giant sword clanged to the ground, the wyrm snapped up the sparks and flecks left by Glade¡¯s technique and absorbed them into its form. ¡°Works like a charm,¡± Vayra said. ¡®Too bad everyone will get the boost,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It¡¯ll be more effective with our low-power and high-speed techniques,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Glade swings fast and swings a lot, and I can unleash techniques faster than most people. It¡¯ll hopefully benefit us more than most.¡± Glade called all his metal filings back to his hand and tucked them into a pouch on his belt, and the swordwyrm raced back to the hilt and fuller of the giant sword. It bound to the metal, forming a rusty coating and making the sword hover. ¡°Someone with slow but powerful techniques will not notice as much of a benefit,¡± Glade said, patting the swordwyrm on the hilt. ¡°But you know who it will benefit, aye?¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Larra. If she can concentrate her willpower better, whatever new technique she is learning will be infinitely more effective.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and crossed her arms. ¡°Yeah. We need a counter to it, both of us.¡± Secretly, she¡¯d been hoping that Larra would be eliminated in the first round of the tournament, but they weren¡¯t that lucky. King Tallerion had delivered them a report of everyone who had succeeded, giving them the most updated and accurate list of contestants yet. But until they had the brackets, there was nothing more she could do to prepare for her fights. Except learning a counter to blood manipulation. Even if they never faced Larra in the tournament, they would face Karmion¡ªand he had to know the same technique. Who else could¡¯ve taught it to Larra? ¡°Do you know something that might work?¡± Vayra asked. She scratched her head. ¡°If we could use a Bracing technique directly on your veins, it might stop her from manipulating the blood,¡± Nathariel suggested. ¡°But that¡¯s a long shot. What you truly need is an internal Warding technique to protect your veins and channels from external attacks.¡± ¡°Internal warding technique?¡± Vayra asked. Truly, she had never heard of such a thing before. She glanced at Glade, and he shrugged¡ªhe hadn¡¯t heard of it either. ¡°It¡¯s something that high-level fire-Path God-heirs use,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°A specialized technique, I would call it, as few other Paths can use it.¡± He held out his arm and said, ¡°Observe closely.¡± Vayra used her spiritual sight on Nathariel¡¯s arm, and Glade stared intently¡ªhe was probably doing the same. For a second, his Arcara channels flashed bright white, and a ripple of flame washed across them. Then, new channels lit up. His blood vessels burned, and white fire seared inside his body. In Vayra¡¯s normal vision, his body glowed from the inside. ¡°Attack me,¡± he said. ¡°Use your strongest Starlight Palm and hit me. Glade, use your sword.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± Vayra asked, tilting her head. ¡°You won¡¯t hurt me,¡± Nathariel said. ¡®Believe him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ chimed in. ¡®You won¡¯t actually do any damage.¡¯ Vayra inhaled, then launched a Starlight Palm at his arm. The pulse of energy ripped away the upper layer of his skin, and she gasped. It wasn¡¯t supposed to do any damage! But as soon as anything went deep enough to touch the blood veins and flesh below, it stopped¡ªhitting a powerful Ward that refused to buckle. Glade swung his sword hard and fast at Nathariel¡¯s other arm, but it left only a superficial cut, where it would have otherwise cleaved off the man¡¯s arm. ¡°You said it wouldn¡¯t hurt you,¡± Vayra complained, shaking out her hand. ¡°And it didn¡¯t.¡± Nathariel folded his arms behind his back. ¡°But we are not on a fire Path,¡± Glade said. ¡°Vayra¡¯s Path is of Starlight.¡± Nathariel pointed at the pistol in her cumberbund. ¡°She had already used a technique designed for fire, and she used it well. She should be able to mimic this one; starlight functions similarly to fire.¡± ¡°But what about him?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Swords are¡­well, they¡¯re pretty far from fire, and sword-Paths don¡¯t have Warding techniques.¡± ¡°But he¡¯s not on a pure sword-Path anymore,¡± Nathariel stepped forward and flicked the sunset-coloured, orange-pink lock of Glade¡¯s hair. ¡°He has an aspect deep within him, similar to fire, but he must draw on it.¡± Nathariel tapped the new sword the Order of Balance had given him. ¡°They recognized it too.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Dawn. Sunset,¡± Nathariel provided. ¡°They¡¯re both subsets of sunlight.¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows. ¡°Those¡­are opposites, no?¡± ¡°Not really, not in the eyes of elemental authority,¡± Glade provided. He sighed. ¡°Deep down, I recognized that when building my corespace and seeking my Captain revelation. The sun rises and sets, and when a sun sets, a new one rises. They are two sides of the same coin, but they are the same coin.¡± For a few hours, Nathariel showed them the cycling pattern and allowed them to practice the techniques. Vayra and Glade both tried to mimic his movements and Essence rotations, pushing the energy out to her body. With her Captain advancement, she had a much crisper grasp on how her internal anatomy functioned, and she knew where to shield¡ªthe blood vessels. Larra was using a Reach technique, so Vayra needed to protect herself from such attacks, and a Ward should do that. After a few hours of attempts, she managed to hold it for a few seconds before it dwindled off and she lost control of it. Her Wards had never been excellent for shielding her own body, anyway. As the sun began to set, she sat down on the couch in the apartment¡¯s living room and stared up at the ceiling. ¡°We still have a few more days to practice, yeah?¡± Glade nodded. ¡°We¡ª¡± Before he could finish, someone knocked at the door. Chapter 9: Intrusion [Volume 4] Vayra approached the door. As she pulled it open, her hand hovered over the hilt of her pistol. The door creaked open, revealing a guard in blue jade armor. He wore a cloak and carried a glaive. At first, he bowed, then said, ¡°Pardon the intrusion, but your presences have been requested by Altrous, God of the Sun. In order to project your appearances properly during the main matches, he will need to create a temporary Arcara model of you. Please do not deny him your time, or you will be disqualified from the tournament.¡± ¡°This late in the evening?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°There are hundreds of contestants to work through,¡± the guard said. He took a step, then motioned down the hallway. ¡°Follow me, if you please.¡± He was just a mortal, though being a guard, he would be a competent fighter. Vayra didn¡¯t doubt that they could defeat him after his armour absorbed a hit or two, but the real power of the guards came from their numbers. They could easily diffuse a situation if they had numbers. If there was only one, they must not have seen much of a threat, nor were they planning on harming her or Glade at the moment. Vayra glanced at Glade and Nathariel. Glade shrugged, and Nathariel said, ¡°Something feels off, but the guard is right¡ªAltrous will need a model of you if he¡¯s going to project an image of you during the main fights. We can¡¯t delay.¡± ¡°Will you be there?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯ll be right behind,¡± Nathariel said. They stepped out of the room and followed the man down the hallway. When they reached a set of stairs, they descended through the structure of the arena and wound around its outside, dipping through offices or taking walkways across once-hollow caverns that were now filled with ramshackle housing and peddlers trying to sell the contestants goods. When they were halfway around the arena and had nearly descended all the way to ground-level, another guard approached them. He wore scuffed and scratched armour, and a single epaulet to denote a higher rank. ¡°I¡¯ll take them from here,¡± he said. Immediately, Vayra narrowed her eyes. A commanding officer taking charge of average contestants? But the other guard just bowed and stepped away wordlessly. He wouldn¡¯t argue with a superior. Vayra tried to scan the new guard¡¯s spirit, but either he was a powerful God-heir putting up a perfect veil, or he was still a mortal. They followed him for another minute. Whenever they passed a torch or a lantern, Vayra examined his armour. He¡¯d done the buckles loosely, and the back plate of the armour had scuffs and chips on the edges. Phason¨¦? Vayra thought. Notice anything off? She couldn¡¯t speak aloud, or the guard might hear. ¡®Make a bright flash,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied, speaking inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®I¡¯ll see if I notice anything in the slits between his armour.¡¯ If Vayra made the flash, she¡¯d be focussing on the technique, and probably a bit blinded by it. But with the help of Phason¨¦¡¯s undivided concentration, she might pick out something that someone else wouldn¡¯t notice. Vayra used a Starlight Palm. The white light flashed through the air and glimmered off the guard¡¯s armour, illuminating the entire hallway in pale white light. It didn¡¯t hit anything, but the light was bright enough to sear her eyes and leave a few azure stains. When her vision cleared, the hallway had also dimmed. Everyone stopped and stared at her. ¡°Just¡­Arcara malfunction,¡± she said. ¡°Still jittery from the morning¡¯s fight.¡± The guard shook his head with disdain and kept walking. So, Phason¨¦? Vayra thought. Anything? ¡®He¡¯s wearing a black coat underneath. It¡¯s shimmering with Moulded water-aspect Arcara.¡¯ The Goddess paused. ¡®Likely someone associated with Karmion.¡¯ Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. He wouldn¡¯t attack us so brazenly, not before the tournament is over. ¡®It could be someone in the service of his children. They do not share the same restrictions as he does, and they might be acting without permission.¡¯ She swallowed nervously. They both landed on the same thought: Larra. The guard turned abruptly toward the edge of the arena and led them to an outside door. Vayra stopped, and so did Glade and Nathariel. Glade crossed his arms and said, ¡°It cannot be outside the tournament walls. They would not make us leave, and I still sense Altrous behind us.¡± ¡®He¡¯s probably not a real guard,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Agreed, Vayra shot back mentally. ¡°We¡¯re just circling around to avoid the crowds,¡± the guard tried, but not one of them moved. The guard¡¯s eyes flicked back and forth between Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel¡ªvisible only as dim flickers beneath the eye slit of his helmet. They widened, and he inhaled sharply. His head twitched, then he threw down his glaive and reached for a leather pouch at his hip. Nathariel blasted a beam of fire out the palm of his hand, Glade drew his sword, and Vayra Moulded her scythe. The beam of fire blasted into the fake guard¡¯s chestplate and dispersed, leaving cracks and burns on the armour. One more hit and it¡¯d shatter. The guard snatched up his pouch and threw it. It struck Nathariel in the chest, and on contact, it exploded into a puff of plain white crystal¡ªalmost like salt, but with enormous crystals. It enveloped Nathariel¡¯s chest and pinned him to the wall behind them. Vayra slashed at the guard, confident she could break his armour, but he was already sprinting away. Her scythe whistled through the empty air. He charged out into the night. A path led through the forest, but it wasn¡¯t a major road¡ªjust a trail for workers and maintenance. Vayra took a step to follow him, but Glade held out a hand. ¡°It is probably a trap.¡± ¡°We already sprung the trap,¡± she said. ¡°And we sprung it early. We need to know who¡¯s doing this and what they were trying to do to us!¡± ¡°Go!¡± Nathariel said. He bashed a crystal away with his fist, but there were plenty more where that came from. ¡°I¡¯ll be right behind you¡ªonce I get out of this!¡± Vayra nodded, and she and Glade charged into the woods, racing after the fake guard. She formed her seer-core. It was nighttime now, and the stars shone down through the cracks in the Shattered Moon¡¯s shell. She held her hand out in front of her, illuminating the forest as best she could. The fake guard was only a shadow in the distance ahead of them. ¡®Astral Shroud?¡¯ Phason¨¦ suggested. But if they took the guard down, he wouldn¡¯t give them any information. They needed to follow him, wherever he was running off to. ¡®Then get rid of the bright light! He won¡¯t lead us anywhere if he knows we¡¯re following him!¡¯ Vayra cut off her connection to the seer-core then threw the orb of bright light off into the forest, making it look like she and Glade had veered to the side. When it dispersed, she only had the natural starlight to navigate by, but that was enough. If she concentrated, her Captain-stage eyesight still let her see the guard up ahead. The guard took a bend in the path, curving away from the arena and past a set of huts. He took another sharp turn to the left, then approached an old white marble ruin surrounded by bushes and shrubs. It was a patinated circle inlaid into the ground, with a pair of rotting wooden doors. He heaved one door open, then tugged it shut behind him. It sealed with a thud just before Vayra and Glade arrived. ¡°We¡¯re going in?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We have backup coming.¡± Glade glanced back at the arena. ¡°Soon.¡± ¡°That could be all day,¡± she muttered. She didn¡¯t know what kind of weapon the crystal pouch was, and she didn¡¯t know how long it would contain an Admiral. She shut her eyes and tried extending her rudimentary spiritual senses. A multitude of presences waited underground beyond the ruins, but that was about all she could tell. They were pretty deep. ¡®Unless you advance to Commodore on the spot, we¡¯re not going to get a better glimpse than that,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®At least, not from here.¡¯ ¡°What if there are other people who they tried to lure out?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°People who didn¡¯t have Phason¨¦ to see through the lie?¡± ¡°If it is some shady mass-capture program,¡± Glade said, ¡°then why target us?¡± ¡°Trying to take out all the competitors who might not align with them if they got the Godly Authority of Talock?¡± she suggested. ¡°Dunno, but if there are people down there, they might be in trouble.¡± Glade nodded. ¡°And we should help.¡± Besides, if they didn¡¯t, they¡¯d just be letting someone try again¡ªand they might try again better next time. They both pulled open one of the doors to the hatch and slid down into the darkness below. Vayra¡¯s boots crunched down on a layer of dried leaves and twigs. She landed in a crouch, then stood up straight and glanced around. The hallway was a dark corridor, some ancient ruin repurposed, with crumbling pillars lining the walls and vines hanging from the ceiling. It smelled of rot, mould, and blood. They ran to the end of the hallway, where a staircase dipped deeper into the ground. A pipe ran along the wall, and an old pulley system draped down the center of the staircase. It was probably an old maintenance system from long ago, when the arena was first built. Glade led the way down the stairs, holding his sword in front of him. Vayra followed, cycling her Arcara and preparing to launch a technique. She cycled hard and fast, with a combat-oriented pattern. The swordwyrm floated behind them, guarding their rear. As they neared the bottom of the stairway, hushed voices leaked out of the gloom. She strained her ears, trying to pick up on what they were saying, but they were speaking too fast and still too far away. At the bottom of the stairway, they arrived in a hallway. On one side, bare mud and roots formed the wall, and on the other side was a set of pillars. A cavernous atrium filled the space beyond. Vayra crept as close as she dared to pillars and peered between them. The atrium was a simple box of marble, probably once intended for storing building material, but now, a set of wooden tables lined the ground. Men in black coats scurried between them, holding surgeons¡¯ equipment. They only exerted the spiritual pressure of mortals, but they each wore a sash of Moulded water-Arcara, marking them as servants of one of Karmion¡¯s children. Not good, but they could deal with that. The problems lay at each end of the hall. God-heir guards¡ªanywhere from Quartermaster to Second Lieutenant¡ªstood in the wings. Some wore the armour of the planet guards (stolen, most likely), but others wore dark coats and tricorn hats with plumes of water. A few carried muskets, and the others held straight sabers at their hips. ¡®Vayra, look at the tables,¡¯ Phason¨¦ instructed. A person lay on each table. They wore a variety of garments, and they were all sorts of races¡ªGod-heirs from all across the galaxy. All of them were captains¡ªall contestants in the tournament¡ªand none of them looked like they were here on their own will. They squirmed and struggled, but clumps of the salt-like crystal they¡¯d used against Nathariel bound their arms and legs down. Vayra ducked out of sight, then pressed her back against the hallway¡¯s far wall. ¡°They did get others.¡± Glade tightened his grip on his sword. ¡°Are we going down?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we can afford to wait. If we do nothing? They die. We stand a chance to find some friends and earn some favours.¡± Chapter 10: Experiments [Volume 4] Vayra and Glade sprinted down the hallway, running parallel to the open cavern and the imprisoned contestants. Pillars whipped past on one side, turning into a white blur. There had to be at least ten contestants imprisoned below¡ªprobably taken by surprise and captured for¡­whatever purpose the God-heirs had for them. ¡°Phason¨¦, what are those crystal weapons they used on Nathariel?¡± Vayra whispered as they ran. If it was strong enough to work on Nathariel, it¡¯d work on less powerful God-heirs as well. ¡®Some sort of rapid-Moulding Arcara,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It¡¯s not a true gemstone; our scythe could cut through it.¡¯ ¡°But mortals can use it?¡± ¡®It was pre-packaged,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Someone made a bunch of them with a premade trigger.¡¯ ¡°What Godly Authority controls crystals and minerals?¡± ¡®God of Stone, but even then, they cannot control gemstones.¡¯ ¡°They looked more like salt crystals than gemstones,¡± she said. The hallway came abruptly to a stairway, and they sprinted down it two steps at a time. There was no sense in veiling herself; the other God-heirs wouldn¡¯t have strong enough senses and they wouldn¡¯t notice her presence as anything more than a buzz¡ªwhich the others would already provide. ¡°Does your Stone God control salt?¡± ¡®If it came from underground, then yes,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®It is likely he is providing whatever aid he can to Karmion. Why wouldn¡¯t he?¡¯ ¡°Of course¡­¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°How strong were the weapons?¡± ¡®I didn¡¯t get a good read on it, but at least Admiral-grade.¡¯ At the end of the staircase, they reached another hallway. It spread out side-to-side ahead of them, one branch leading off into the earth and the other branch leading toward the atrium. A single guard, a Third Lieutenant with a lantern in-hand, patrolled the hallway. Glade pounced on him, wrapping an arm around his neck to hold him still while dragging him back toward the wall. Vayra tugged her pistol out of her belt and, with her mechanical arm, clubbed the heir across the head with the hilt of the pistol. Her arm managed the strength for her, allowing her to hurt the God-heir even despite his tough enhanced body. He collapsed. The lantern fell out of his hands, and Glade caught it, then hung it over the swordwrym¡¯s hilt, giving them a constant source of light. She flipped the pistol over in her hand and prepared to fire a beam of starlight-Arcara out through it. There were no more guards in the hallway, and they kept running. When they reached the end, they found a set of tall wooden doors. Vayra peered through the crack between them. The atrium was just beyond. A new presence erupted in her senses, and a different tingle breached the back of her neck. Another¡­Admiral? Too fresh, too unstable, to be Nathariel. As if someone had just boosted themselves with a treasure. Vayra pressed her face tighter against the doors. Through the crack, she watched the atrium closely, hunting for any sign of the new God-heir. ¡®Chances are, it¡¯s Larra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Has to be,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But what¡¯s she doing?¡± ¡®Well, watch and find out!¡¯ Glade crouched down and peered through the crack below her, so they could both see. A tall, broad woman strode through the atrium, winding between the God-heirs and the tables. Her dark coat fluttered behind her. She spoke softly with one of the surgeons, then grabbed the scalpel and turned to the table beside her, where a young half-elf God-heir struggled and strained. The woman casually plucked the hat off her head and set it down on the table, then leaned over the man and whispered something to him. He thrashed harder. It was Larra, for sure. ¡°Can you use internal warding reliably?¡± Glade whispered. ¡°We¡¯re about to find out,¡± Vayra shot back. With a frustrated grunt, Larra slashed a line down the half-elf¡¯s bare arm with her scalpel. He gritted his teeth and spat at her. Larra held her hand above the wound. She clenched her fingers, and she cycled her Essence so fast it exerted a pressure on all the nearby mortals. They backed away, and a few of them held up a hand toward her, as if she had suddenly turned into a star. Stolen novel; please report. The man¡¯s leaking blood bubbled and popped, then boiled. A single tendril of it reached up, then another, and another, like some crimson cat spiking its fur. Then the blood exploded outward, shredding the man¡¯s arm and muscle like grapeshot. He shouted, and Larra leapt back. Snarling, she shook her head and moved to the side, ready to try again on someone else. ¡°She¡¯s going to kill them,¡± Vayra breathed. Next, Larra stepped over to a lapin woman who, having seen the predicament of the half-elf, was now thrashing as hard as she could and shouting obscenities in a foreign language. Her rabbit ears pressed flat against the back of her head and she hissed. ¡°I¡­I know her,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°What? Larra? Of course¡ª¡± ¡°No, the lapin woman,¡± he said. ¡°We met before, on Harvest Sanctuary! She was advancing, too, but I did not think we would see her here.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°Then she knows you? Were you friendly?¡± ¡°She was¡­friendly enough.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll cover you.¡± He nodded. ¡°I will break her out. Hopefully, she helps us.¡± ¡°Phas, any idea how to get rid of the crystals quickly?¡± Vayra whispered. She leaned to the side, eyeing one of the guards. The lapin woman shrieked, and Vayra winced. She didn¡¯t want to see what Larra had done. ¡®Bash it until it breaks,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®That¡¯s all I can think of. It¡¯s not a gemstone; it¡¯s salt-like. It¡¯ll snap like hard candy if you hit it hard enough.¡¯ ¡°Hard enough being¡­with the strength of an Admiral?¡± ¡®It¡¯s weak around the joints. Look at it in your spiritual sight, and strike it where the Moulded Arcara is weakest,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra relayed the same information to Glade, then held up her fingers. They needed to work together. She leaned against one half of the doorway with her mechanical arm, and Glade placed both his hands on the other door. On a count of three, they both pushed, driving the door open. Vayra pointed her pistol at Larra and launched a beam of Starlight Arcara. It caught the woman in the chest and flung her back across the room. Glade sprinted over to the lapin woman, and Vayra turned to face the guards. The horde of ocean-Path God-heirs converged on her, swinging sabers hard and fast. A blade whistled past the tip of her nose. She Warded her cloak and spun, blocking a volley of musketfire, then Moulded her scythe and set to work. She ducked under a swipe, then slashed up through the man¡¯s chest. Another man launched a wall of water at her, but she scattered it with a Starlight Palm. She whirled between them, hacking and striking and dodging. There was no spirit water to draw from, but she had started with a full core of mana. She activated the Astral Shroud when she had depleted a quarter of her mana, and used it to flash between the lower-stage God-heirs, slashing them or knocking them aside, rendering them useless. Glade sprinted over to Ameena. He remembered her clearly, helping pull him from the temporal rift before it shut him in. Time to return the favour. ¡°Keep Larra busy!¡± he called to the swordwyrm. Larra skidded along the floor, flung by Vayra¡¯s attack, but it wouldn¡¯t leave any lasting damage¡ªjust a smouldering burn. The swordwyrm, however, could keep her busy. It chittered and bobbed, then screeched, ¡°For sword-friend!¡± and leapt to action. It darted at Larra and slashed at her, leaving faint cuts and occupying her focus. Glade skittered to a halt beside the table with Ameena. Like the half-elf man, Larra had made a gash down her arm, then had tried manipulating the blood. This time, though, the blood hadn¡¯t exploded¡ªit had formed into needles. A few stuck out of Ameena¡¯s flank, slowly disintegrating as Larra¡¯s Reach technique faded. But Ameena was a healer. She could fix it. Once she got free and stopped thrashing around. He reached for the first clump of crystal, but a mortal worker charged at him, wielding a surgeon¡¯s scalpel. He flung the man across the room with a swat. The wall cracked with the impact. Another rushed in from behind him, but he whirled around and hacked the man in half with a sword swipe. He turned back to Ameena and used his spiritual sight. The first clump of crystal had a weak patch near the table. He bludgeoned it with the hilt of his sword until it shattered into a puff of salt. A few chunks rolled off the table. Ameena threw her arm up in panic, but Glade grabbed her hand. ¡°It¡¯s alright. We are here to help.¡± She stopped thrashing, then squinted. Wait¡­you¡¯re the Order Disciple! The one from Harvest Sanctuary!¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± He ran around the other side of the table. A Master-stage God-heir had broken out of Vayra¡¯s distraction and charged toward him, but he flung a blast of metal filings out at the man. It shredded through a Ward of water and ripped apart his shoulder. As he reeled, Glade drove his sword through the man¡¯s chest. ¡°You made it to Captain?¡± Ameena panted, pushing herself up with one arm. ¡°I did.¡± Glade bashed the other chunk of crystal with the hilt of his sword until it broke free, setting her injured arm loose. He pulled off his coat and tossed it to her¡ªshe could bind her arm with it. ¡°Huh. Didn¡¯t think you had it in you.¡± As she wound the coat tight around her arm, Glade ran to the tip of the table and smashed her feet loose. ¡°You were pretty far off from Captain yourself,¡± he told her. ¡°I found some good elixirs once the greenhouse¡¯s central wall fell.¡± She pulled her feet back, then staggered up. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna be on my feet much longer, by my judgement,¡± she whispered. ¡°Running low on mana and took some serous hits.¡± Already, blood was dripping down her side and pooling at her feet. ¡°Can you heal yourself?¡± Glade asked. ¡°Not enough mana left,¡± she whispered. ¡°But I can help break the others free.¡± By now, Vayra had finished off one wave of guards on the side of the atrium that they¡¯d entered from, but another wave charged over from the other side. She sprinted across the atrium to Glade. ¡°We¡¯ve got trouble,¡± she said. Amidst the second wave, Larra prowled forward. She finally unveiled her three-part staff and swatted the swordwyrm out of the air, then kicked it along the ground toward them. ¡°We will deal with them,¡± Glade said to Ameena. ¡°Get as many of the others free as you can.¡± ¡°I see you got my invitation!¡± Larra shouted. ¡°Finally, a proper test subject! Well, then, let¡¯s have it!¡± Chapter 11: Rescue First, Vayra activated the Mediator Form. There was no sense in waiting, and she¡¯d need it to match Larra¡¯s power-scaling¡ªthe woman was already at Admiral with the help of her artifact. A white mesh erupted across Vayra¡¯s body, the glimmering projection of Phason¨¦, and they temporarily joined wills. Phason¨¦¡¯s power, taken directly from the stars and the heavens above, flooded Vayra¡¯s channels, empowering her. They both wanted to see Larra driven from this atrium, and perhaps destroyed. Glade slashed through a blast of water and knocked the tip of Larra¡¯s three-part staff aside, creating an opening for Vayra. Vayra and Phason¨¦ took it. They charged in, holding their hand out, and slashed at Larra¡¯s chest. The God-heir knelt and pushed upward with her spare hand. An invisible pulse inside Vayra and Phason¨¦¡¯s arm countered, pushing the scythe back before it could collide. The pulse continued, gripping Vayra¡¯s blood and pushing her shoulder back. She and Phason¨¦ stumbled. A knife of pain blasted through the inside of their shoulder, ripping the muscles and scratching the bone. They screamed. Glade whirled around and slashed at Larra¡¯s back, diverting her attention away from Vayra and Phason¨¦ and breaking her hold on them. Larra whirled and struck at Glade. She thrust her arm out, but he leapt back. But she didn¡¯t need to contact them¡ªher Reach technique already blossomed in her fingers. An invisible technique hit Glade from the inside. A needle-thin tendril of blood blasted out his back, and he yelled in pain. They needed their internal Warding techniques, and they needed it now. Vayra and Phason¨¦, wills combined, drew starlight out of their scarf. They manipulated it as if they were going to launch a Ward across their own body, but then drew it inside, like the start of the rudimentary Bracing technique. It burned their channels, but they didn¡¯t care. Their channels were resilient and would recover quickly. They willed the technique to expand, spreading out through their muscles, bones, and most importantly, blood vessels. Time to see if it did what it was supposed to. Whirling their scythe, Vayra and Phason¨¦ charged back into the fray. Larra turned toward them, and stretched out both arms. The blood in Vayra¡¯s channels, the water within it, tried to obey, but the Warding held it in place. Nothing but willpower. The direct concentration eliminated the benefits of the Mediator Form. They had to assert a great deal of power to maintain the technique across their whole body, and they had to move their limbs with sheer willpower. Larra couldn¡¯t harm the inside of Vayra¡¯s body, now, but she could make life difficult for them. When they swung, it was like concrete filled their flesh-and-blood arm. They let go of the scythe and used only their mechanical arm to swing it, but Larra blocked it with her three-part-staff, bound it, then ripped it out of their weak grip. It un-Moulded itself as soon as it left her grip, shattering into a bunch of tiny particles and flecks, and they unleashed a chain of Starlight Palms into the woman¡¯s chest. She staggered back, then struck them with a heavy overhead swipe from the three-part staff. They ducked to the side, and the staff collided with their shoulder. It broke the upper layer of skin and drove them down to their knees, but the internal Warding kept their clavicle from chattering. Then Larra delivered another strike to their side. It bashed into their ribs, and again, didn¡¯t break through. It did fling them across the atrium. She crashed through a table and into the wall. Their mouth was getting parched. They were burning mana at an exceptional rate, with the Mediator Form, internal Warding, and all the techniques they were using. They could hold it for another minute, at best. Larra had forced another wedge in power between them. She¡¯d gotten stronger, and Vayra would need to match the leap. She and Phason¨¦ pushed themselves to their feet. On the other side of the atrium, Glade duelled Larra. A pinkish-yellow sunset-like glow flowed beneath his skin¡ªhe¡¯d activated his own internal Warding technique, and the Dawnspear body was holding. But just like Vayra, he was moving his body now with sheer willpower and Arcara manipulation, fighting against veins of mud and muscles of clay. He whirled his sword, but it was slower than usual. Larra blocked most of his swipes, but he landed a single slash across her chest. But eventually, his guard broke. He couldn¡¯t keep up, not fighting her overwhelming power gap and blood manipulation techniques. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. She pummeled him with staff strikes. ¡°The experiment is no good if you use¡­that shielding!¡± She landed a direct strike on his core, pushing him deeping into the ground. The floor beneath his feet cracked, and he sank a foot into the earth below. It was now or never. Time to run the mana to its very end. Vayra and Phason¨¦ activated the Astral Shroud and sprinted across the room, zipping back to Larra, but the woman held out her arm, made a fist, and swung it at them. They used the maneuverability to duck under the blow¡ªuntil Larra clutched onto their blood. It was like sprinting through chest-deep water. Vayra¡¯s blood tried and tried to break through the veins and vessels, but her internal Warding held it. Larra tried to freeze the blood in place, slowly suffocating and destroying Vayra¡¯s limbs, but she used her basic, strength-based bracing technique on her heart, forcing the blood to circulate, even if it did feel thick as mud. But it was all a distraction. Larra threw a fist at their chest, strong and Braced with a technique of her own, and it threw Vayra into the ground beside Glade. Both Vayra, in the Mediator Form still, and Glade stood up. ¡°If only you had this technique on Harvest Sanctuary,¡± Vayra and Phason¨¦ said, looking Larra in the eyes. ¡°Then you¡¯d¡¯ve won by now.¡± They had to stall for time and taunt. Already, more captains leapt off the wooden tables. They picked up weapons from the fallen guards and turned to face Larra. The lapin woman who¡¯d started the chain reaction had collapsed, her face pale, against the far wall. Glade must¡¯ve seen her too, because his face contorted into a grimace. ¡°My days of victory are almost here!¡± Larra shouted. She still backed up a step. A group of ocean-Path guards gathered behind her, ready to protect her. ¡°Why us?¡± Glade snapped. ¡°You will not get away with this. You will be kicked out of the tournament.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure, boy,¡± Larra snarled. Vayra shared a glance with Glade. Her will was fraying away from Phason¨¦¡¯s, and they were losing the Mediator form. They were almost out of mana, and black specks whirled in her vision. Larra tugged on Vayra¡¯s blood, and Vayra stumbled forward, then launched a Starlight Palm, forcing Larra to take another step back. A First Lieutenant-stage God-heir swiped at her, but Glade reached over and deflected the sword. The crowd of Captains fanned out behind them¡ªa temporary alliance, in the name of saving their own skins. Vayra¡¯s grasp on the Mediator Form slipped, and the overlay of Phason¨¦ dispersed into motes of white light. ¡°You¡¯re done,¡± Vayra said, her voice alone. ¡®You¡¯re almost out of mana,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, speaking independently inside Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®You¡¯ve got ten seconds to finish this.¡¯ ¡°Everyone saw what happened,¡± Glade said. ¡°Acceptable losses. They were the contestants deemed disloyal by my father,¡± Larra spat. ¡°Their word will mean nothing.¡± Vayra lunged, unleashing one more chain of Starlight Palms, but Larra deflected them all. Glade attacked at the same time, but his internal Warding was faltering and flickering. A few of the freed Captains lunged in at the same time, picking targets and attacking. With a single swat of her three-part staff, Larra struck Vayra and Glade and sent them sprawling back onto the ground. Vayra¡¯s mana depleted, and her techniques sputtered out. With how strong they were, if she tried to push it any further, she¡¯d eat up her body in a matter of seconds. Glade¡¯s own techniques faded. The swordwyrm rushed to his aid, but it wouldn¡¯t do much¡ªhe was out of mana, too. ¡®Larra has to be getting low,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. Larra marched forward, whirling her staff. She wasn¡¯t holding it together with as much water, nor was she using any Bracing techniques of her own. But she¡¯d still crush Vayra and Glade, who, at the moment, were no better than mortals. She raised her staff above her head, and¡ª A beam of flame-Arcara seared across the room, slicing across Larra¡¯s chest and biting into her shoulder. It launched her to the side and sent her sprawling to the ground, but she still leapt to her feet and spun to face the new threat. Nathariel and a group of Shattered Moon guards sprinted into the room. The guards pointed their glaives and broke up any skirmishes, then surrounded Larra¡¯s henchmen. Nathariel seared a condensed bolt of fire straight through one man¡¯s chest¡ªhe wasn¡¯t stopping or obeying commands¡ªkilling him in an instant and dropping him to the ground. Larra scrambled to her feet, then sprinted to the opposite side of the room and slipped out a different gate. A few guards prepared to chase after her¡ªthey were actual Shattered Moon Guardsmen, not Larra¡¯s fakes¡ªbut Nathariel held out a hand. ¡°Let her go. Her father will have her released no matter what, and you¡¯ll get yourselves killed.¡± Vayra and Glade pushed themselves to their feet. Vayra rubbed her forehead, then blinked the specks away. Nathariel retrieved two flasks of watered-down rum from his voidhorn and tossed it one to each of them. It wouldn¡¯t restore their mana, but it would dispel the dehydration for a little while. The rest of the Captain-stage God-heirs, the test subjects, looked on. A few of them nodded, but most of them just stared at Vayra and Glade. Vayra turned in a circle, staring at the destruction. Glade sprinted over to the lapin woman and placed his fingers on her neck. He called, ¡°She¡¯s still alive, but she needs a surgeon.¡± ¡°No time to wait,¡± Nathariel said, then motioned back up to the surface. ¡°And you still need to get an Arcara model of yourselves made, if I¡¯m not mistaken.¡± Karmion paced back and forth across the floor of his office. It overlooked the arena on one side, and on the other, a bank of windows allowed him to peer into the forest behind. A quivering messenger stood in the middle of the room, carrying a parchment note. Karmion dictated his instructions back to the man: ¡°I will ensure that those under Larra¡¯s command do not ever spread word of this.¡± He¡¯d kill them. It was too risky. Easier to just kill them, and not let word of this disaster spread. ¡°Our public statement will be this: Larra had no part in it¡ªthere¡¯s no concrete evidence¡ªand anyone involved was a distant, weak relation of mine, acting entirely on their own will. Do you understand?¡± The messenger nodded. ¡°Now get out of my sight.¡± Chapter 12: Clean Up [Volume 4] Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel returned to their quarters long enough to patch themselves up. Vayra¡¯s flesh and blood shoulder stung, and she bound it from the outside, but there wasn¡¯t much she could do to stop the internal damage except to cycle Arcara to it and let her enhanced body handle the repairs. Glade wrapped a few bandages around his body, and they both patched up any minor cuts and scrapes they¡¯d earned in the earlier fight. Nathariel sat in the corner, watching intently but not commenting. ¡°Are we going to have to deal with more weapons like that in the future?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Unless the other fighters of the tournament have them equipped?¡± Nathariel shrugged. ¡°Perhaps, though unless they catch us by surprise again, those weapons will be less effective than normal, aye?¡± Vayra¡¯ tilted her head. ¡°Dodge them, duck away, disperse them with a Starlight Palm, among others,¡± he said. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be your biggest concern.¡± ¡°Larra¡¯s blood manipulation is what concerns me,¡± Glade muttered. ¡°Even with our Warding, we are working with a frigate while she has a man-of-war.¡± ¡°Then it is imperative that you push for advancement,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°Expand your mana pools and your control, your Arcara purity, and your techniques will improve.¡± Once they had finished patching themselves, they walked back out through the hallways of the arena. By now, it was midnight, as best Vayra could tell by the shifting of the moon¡¯s crust and the position of the larger orange gas giant in the sky. They found a cluster of guards around the gate, and explained to them the situation. She and Glade, like a few others, were supposed to have a meeting with Altrous and his people, but Larra had disrupted that. By now, the guards must have heard the commotion¡ªor at least heard about it. When they explained, two guards broke off from the cluster and walked with them through the arena, leading them around a radial hallway. It was near the top of the structure, with open pillars to the side granting a view of the rest of the structure below. Campers and viewers still huddled in little ramshackle villages along the expanse of the audience stands, campfires burning and people mingling and dancing. They had staked out prime spots, and they weren¡¯t giving them up now. The guards, and Vayra, Glade, and Nathariel approached a god¡¯s viewing tower. It was entirely white limestone, pearl, and gold. There were no ridges or misshapen gables¡ªjust a single spire up into the night, smooth edges collapsing together as they approached a peak. Inlays of golden swirls wrapped all the way up the spire, making it gleam in the starlight and planetlight. The radial hallway led into the tower¡¯s flank, and the guards opened a door, allowing them inside. Two sun-Path God-heirs stood inside the door, wearing beige robes and carrying spears with golden tips. Their hair was yellow-blonde, like it had been bleached in the sun for years. From there, it wasn¡¯t far to a larger vestibule, where Moulded Arcara lamps lined the edges, emitting golden sunlight down into a hall. The room was large enough to fit a galleon across and tall enough to accommodate its masts. A set of chairs had been arranged in the center, almost like pews, and each one had a lamp of Moulded Arcara right next to it. Two more sun-Path god-heirs greeted them on the way in. ¡°If you desire it, please ensure that your appearance is proper,¡± one heir, a Third Lieutenant, said. ¡°This is how you will be projected during each of your fights.¡± Vayra swallowed, then ran a finger through her hair. She was still grimy from the fight and hadn¡¯t had a chance to clean up¡ªsave for wiping blood spatters off her face. But there wasn¡¯t much she could do, now. ¡®Now, hey, don¡¯t put it like that,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You¡¯re doing more than just representing yourself. You¡¯re representing Velaydia and me, too. We can¡¯t have you looking like a tattered street beggar.¡¯ ¡°I mean¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°It¡¯d kinda be accurate.¡± ¡°You have five minutes before the projections are made,¡± said the God-heir. He turned away and marched to the edge of the room, where another group of them stood. The God-heirs clustered around a tall, lean man with a beige and gold robe over one shoulder. He wore a single epaulet of Moulded sunlight Arcara, and his long blonde hair floated freely behind him like it was made of mist. Vayra didn¡¯t get any especially strong buzzes in her neck or feel a pressure on her core, but it was hard to tell. There were so many extraordinarily powerful people here, and she hadn¡¯t had the experience to differentiate between them and the general buzz. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. But if she had to guess, that was Altrous, God of the Sun. He just carried himself like¡­a god. Like there was no one in the room who could even touch him. ¡®Yes, it is,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said hurriedly. ¡®Now pull yourself into the corespace and let me clean you up.¡¯ ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Vayra muttered. She took a seat near the edge of the room, cross-legged, and folded her hands in her lap. Nathariel and Glade followed her, but there wasn¡¯t much they could do. Nathariel fixed Glade¡¯s coat and hair and brushed off his hat. At least Glade had someone to make sure he cleaned up, too. Vayra shut her eyes and drew herself into the corespace. Phason¨¦ was waiting for her with a pail of water from the pond at the edge of the corespace, and another detached strip of her dress¡ªwhich she held as a rag. A very, very expensive rag. Adair perched on her shoulder, mewling and nattering to himself. Vayra swallowed nervously, then said, ¡°If you dump corespace fake water on my head, do you think I¡¯m gonna get clean? It¡¯s not real.¡± ¡°But the idea of it is,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Your core is tied to your existence, and just like how you can alter your clothes within, not to mention drag items in and out, you can control the Arcara within¡ªfor that¡¯s all this water is, truly¡ªto affect yourself.¡± ¡°So¡ª¡± Before Vayra could finish, Phason¨¦ splashed her with the pail of water. Vayra sputtered and wiped her face, but the water rolled off with ease, not even leaving her hair wet. But it whisked away the dust and grime. She couldn¡¯t imagine how it looked outside the corespace¡ªdid she just suddenly get clean, or did her hair sop down over her face for a second as if a bucket of invisible water washed over her? ¡°There,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°A little better.¡± She walked around behind Vayra, and Adair hopped off her shoulder. He pounced over to Vayra and nestled on her shoulder. ¡°Now,¡± Phason¨¦ commented, ¡°You can¡¯t just leave your hair like that.¡± ¡°Sure I can,¡± said Vayra raising a hand to help catch Adair. ¡°It¡¯s getting long.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll cut it when we get back to the contestant¡¯s quarters.¡± Truly, it was starting to get a little unwieldy, now reaching halfway down her back. But it didn¡¯t really matter in a fight; her scythe just cut through it, so if it got caught, it wouldn¡¯t matter. Phason¨¦ sighed. ¡°Or I could braid it for you. You could take care of yourself, for once. There¡¯s no shame in taking a bit of pride in your appearance.¡± Vayra opened her mouth for a second, then shut it again. ¡°Alright, alright. Braid away, Glitter Princess.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I like to hear.¡± And then the tugging began. It wasn¡¯t horrible¡ªPhason¨¦ was just making a single braid down Vayra¡¯s back, like a dense orange ponytail¡ªbut it was more than she¡¯d ever had anyone pull on her hair, and it felt like ants were crawling all over her scalp. Vayra shuddered, but kept herself from complaining. She couldn¡¯t just will away the feeling, and it wasn¡¯t all bad. When Phason¨¦ combed her fingers through the long orange strands, the detangling had a pleasant pop to it, even if it did make her scalp feel funny. She leaned back against Phason¨¦¡¯s arms and tried to focus on the good. But¡­ Nope. Too awkward. She¡¯d get used to the feeling, just not now. She needed to take her mind off it. She held Adair and helped him crawl down into her lap, then scratched him between the ears. As she pet him, she searched for the Arcara channels that ran closest to the surface of his skin. But, being a cat, he had fur. And they¡¯d pumped him so full of elixir¡ªby necessity, mostly, to keep him alive on Harvest Sanctuary¡ªthat Arcara and spiritual energy crackled in his fur like lightning. When Phason¨¦ reached a knot and had to pull a little harder than normal, Vayra winced, then activated her spiritual sight to keep her mind off the tug in her hair. Adair¡¯s Arcara circulated through a rudimentary channel system. A few of them spike up into hairs along his back, like spines on a lizard¡¯s back. Without spiritual sight, he¡¯d have looked like a normal cat, but now? He had a glowing blue mohawk. She supposed the same must have gone for Larra¡¯s wolf. Its channels probably spiked up along its back, just like Adair, and through physical contact, she took on his abilities. Cats like having their hair touched, didn¡¯t they? Vayra shut her eyes and let Adair¡¯s Arcara flow back up to her, filling her veins. Along with it came a different energy, a different will. Adair¡¯s Arcara was pure¡ªit had no aspect bend¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t a human¡¯s Arcara. It infused her with a different will, not overwhelming or controlling, just¡­complimentary. She inhaled, and as the Essence whirled through her own channels, aspects of Adair¡¯s will seeped out into her muscles. They twitched faster, feline instincts embedded and etched into her flesh. It was like a cloud lifted from her mind. Everything moved slightly slower, and she could choose to react to it whenever she wanted. A mote of stray Arcara floated through the air of the corespace, following her cycling patterns, but she lifted her hand up and swatted it, like a kitten chasing after a butterfly. She hit it instantly, hardly thinking about her reaction time and speed. ¡°Woah¡­¡± she breathed. But it only lasted for seconds before she lost her connection with Adair. As Phason¨¦¡¯s fingers passed through her hair, the itch in her scalp turned to a pleasant touch, and then it was done altogether. She ran a hand down the back of her head, feeling the neat braid Phason¨¦ had made. ¡°Thanks, Phas,¡± she said. It still dipped down halfway down her back, but at least the hair was slightly more contained. Phason¨¦ tied it off with a thinner strip of double-exposure window-into-space fabric, then said, ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now get out there, and get a projection made of yourself, alright? You¡¯ll do good.¡± She patted Vayra on the shoulder. ¡°Where do you find the confidence¡­?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Practice?¡± Phason¨¦ shrugged. She leaned closer and brushed one of Vayra¡¯s bangs to the side. ¡°I promise, you¡¯ll do fine. Maybe just smile for them?¡± ¡°I hope that isn¡¯t necessary¡­¡± Chapter 13: Critical Reflections [Volume 4] Vayra sat down in the chair and looked straight out at Altrous, the sud god. He stood at the center of the hall with his eyes shut, and tendrils of pale yellow sunlight reached out across the room. Although it was dark outside, he had the bulbs of Moulded sunlight-Arcara, which emitted a substance for Altrous to manipulate with a broad Reach technique. Each tendril of sunlight was a strand of his perception, and each one snaked toward a chair. The current batch had ten God-heirs, including Vayra and Glade. She only recognized one of the others¡ªa forge-Path God-heir with a broad frame and a glowing yellow hammer on his back. He had objected to her entering the tournament in the first place, and had nearly attacked her when they had arrived on the Shattered Moon. When the tendril of sunlight wrapped up around her leg, coiling like a spring, she had to force herself to stay still. She didn¡¯t know how the process worked, but she guessed she¡¯d be making their life more difficult if she was quivering. ¡®The Gods are your enemy¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ pointed out. ¡®You are making their lives difficult in so many ways, and not just here.¡¯ Alright, but¡­that just feels petty, Vayra shot back mentally, so she could keep the rest of her body still. That kind of resistance is pointless, yeah? ¡®Indeed,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®I just thought it was¡­funny that you didn¡¯t want to inconvenience them.¡¯ At that, Vayra let out a soft snort, then stilled her legs and stared forward. Another coil of sunlight ran up her other leg, and above her head, a hologram of golden light was starting to form. At the moment, it only depicted her boots with a misty, dusty frame¡ªjust like the massive projection of Karmion that had towered over the opening ceremonies. When she moved her toes, they created a bulge at the tip of her boot, and the hologram responded. This isn¡¯t going to cause problems for us later, is it? Vayra asked mentally. They won¡¯t¡­I dunno, use this to track us? ¡®It only works as long as you¡¯re in sight of Altrous,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®And at that point, his spiritual senses and perception will be better than a light-model like this.¡¯ All around the hall, projections of golden sunlight sprang to life above the heads of the gathered heirs¡ªand Glade¡ªstarting from the feet and building upward. Vayra folded her fingers together in her lap, which was the pose they were supposed to take. But after a few minutes, the coils of light had only made it up to her knees, and she began rocking side-to-side. It was taking a long time¡ªa little too long¡ªand she was overtired, not to mention anxious. ¡°Glade,¡± she whispered. ¡°Yes?¡± He spoke quietly too, despite the soft din of the room. Everyone else was whispering amongst themselves, or with their retainers and servants who had ventured along with them. ¡°Have you gotten close to your Commodore revelation yet?¡± ¡°I have not.¡± They¡¯d feel when they got close. It was a shiver down the spine, a little tremble in the soul, that signalled that they were getting close. But while she¡¯d been thinking about it, she wasn¡¯t sure. Purpose of the soul? Of the self? Too abstract. ¡®How do you see yourself?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°How? I¡ª¡± She rolled her lips inward. ¡°I dunno. I just am. I never had time to think about that kinda thing.¡± Glade looked over at her skeptically. ¡°Sorry,¡± she whispered. ¡°Talking to Phason¨¦.¡± Glade, sitting perfectly still in his chair, without moving a muscle except for his lips, said, ¡°Nathariel, are we close? When it comes to Arcara purification and spiritual strength, are we ready to advance?¡± ¡°Give it a few more days,¡± the Admiral said. ¡°If you keep purifying elixirs at the same rate, you will advance in no time.¡± They¡¯d been doing everything they could to purify and accumulate Arcara, pushing themselves closer to advancement on the raw strength side. But without the revelation, they wouldn¡¯t have the final trigger. Vayra wanted to be able to advance as soon as possible. ¡°You may have succeeded with your Captain advancement, but sitting around and meditating rarely provides you the necessary insight to advance,¡± said Nathariel. ¡°I unveiled my Commodore insight by¡­well, I journeyed to a sacred site of reflection and light authority, and only then did I truly see myself for what I was.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°What was your Commodore insight?¡± Vayra asked. She tilted her head. ¡°That goes for you, too, Phason¨¦.¡± By now, the golden coils had crept up to her waist, and the hologram above her head matched the progress. She stilled herself, letting the coils climb higher, and instead stared at Altrous. The God was constantly turning in a circle as the light climbed higher. ¡° ¡®Fire cannot be controlled,¡¯ ¡± Nathariel said plainly, without any intonation or even a hint of nostalgia. ¡°That¡¯s¡­about yourself?¡± She tilted her head. Nathariel chuckled. ¡°It is. The revelation is often a firmly held belief which you must realize is false in some way. That lets you see the true nature of yourself, and of your soul below¡ªif you know what¡¯s wrong, then you can adjust the soul and look at it differently, aye?¡± ¡°How¡¯d that work for¡­you?¡± ¡°I did not learn the arcane ways of fire from humans,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Yes, I had an instructor, but he taught me Arcara control and guided me through my advancements. I learned about fire from the dragons. They could control fire, rip the energy out of the empty air and conjure flame from nothing, but me? I couldn¡¯t. I needed to accept that fire would never have perfect control. Only then did I¡­understand my soul better, what I believed, what I wanted, and why.¡± Vayra almost nodded but stopped herself, again trying to keep as still as possible. But her feet were starting to go numb, and the light had only made it halfway up their abdomens. ¡°What was Phason¨¦¡¯s?¡± he asked. ¡®I am the daughter of a Goddess,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. Got time for an explanation? Vayra thought. She had guesses, and she could sense some of Phason¨¦¡¯s emotions and feelings, but not enough to get a full picture of why that would¡¯ve triggered the advancement. ¡®For so long, between Captain and Commodore, I had tried to rebel against my mother, to be different from her, but I had to accept that I still had parts of her within me. But moreover, understanding that rebellious nature helped me get a better understanding of myself.¡¯ Vayra relayed the same information to Nathariel and Glade. ¡°When we have finished here, I highly recommend that both of you seek out a place of meaning, where you can properly view a reflection of yourself. We have a few days before your first fight, and now is a better time than any to travel.¡± ¡°Will that really help?¡± Glade asked. ¡°It will be better than sitting completely still, trying to wrack your brain for something. External influences will always be more powerful.¡± Vayra could attest to the ¡®sitting around¡¯ part. Sitting around, doing nothing, did absolutely nothing for her mind. The next morning, Vayra set out through the forests of the Shattered Moon. It was early morning, and though she¡¯d been expecting to sleep in, she hadn¡¯t. Her body needed less sleep now that she was a Captain. She hiked through the forests, ignoring the trail completely, and wound up the side of a hill. A few wild animals prowled through the forests¡ªsquirrels, marmots, and near the rivers, a few beavers with antlers¡ªbut nothing approached her. She hadn¡¯t veiled her spirit, and even they could sense the power she radiated, now. But in the grand scale of her task, Captain was nothing. And the way things were going, with how aggressive the resistance to her quest was getting, she wondered if she¡¯d be getting off the Shattered Moon at all. At least, not without destroying Karmion first. At noon, the hills broke into low mountains, and she decided she¡¯d had enough. She hadn¡¯t been using any techniques to move quickly (she could do that to get home), but from here, she had the perfect view. There were still prominent rocky ridges behind her, which reminded her of Tavelle. She¡¯d always looked at the mountains fondly. Not as fondly as the Stream, sure, but fondly nonetheless. They loomed over the city, a more obtainable grandeur¡­and when she¡¯d sailed away for the first time, they¡¯d seemed only wrinkles in a sheet of paper. She hadn¡¯t understood the scale of anything. She hadn¡¯t understood the scale of the conflict she¡¯d walked into, nor the implications of it. At that thought, a tremble ran down her spine, and goosebumps bubbled up on her real arm. ¡®That¡¯s it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You¡¯re getting close.¡¯ ¡°Nathariel said it had to be a place where I could see a reflection of myself,¡± she responded. ¡°Do I need to¡­like, find a pond or something?¡± ¡®Do you think he meant it literally?¡¯ ¡°Well¡­he kinda implied he did, when he found his in some fancy mirror-reflection-thing place.¡± ¡®It doesn¡¯t have to be a physical reflection of yourself.¡¯ Vayra stayed silent for a few minutes, then climbed up to a stone outcropping and peered through the trees of the forest. An autumn grove sloped down beneath her, but she could see over the treetops. Behind her were mountains, in front was the Stream, flowing up and away from the floating island at the center of the Shattered Moon. Just like Tavelle. ¡°Does it have to be a¡­negative? Something I¡¯m not, or can¡¯t do?¡± she asked. ¡®As far as I know, that¡¯s what it usually is.¡¯ Vayra sat down on the ridge and folded her hands in her lap, then watched and cycled Arcara. If nothing else, she¡¯d reach her next advancement soon. She¡¯d make herself reach it. Glade and Nathariel walked to Shatterport and strolled through the port city¡¯s streets, observing and watching the guards. They were the closest he¡¯d ever get to meeting more Order of Balance members, save for actually speaking to King Tallerion¡¯s guards. But he needed a reflection, not a copy, and the guards were close enough. Mortals, or those with low spirit potential, who had a single task in life¡ªbeyond what they could have ever imagined. He walked, observing and cycling, and tried to place himself in their minds. They didn¡¯t have much time, but he¡¯d already advanced this far, and he could keep pushing himself¡ªspiritual pain and consequences be damned. Chapter 14: The First Match [Volume 4] Two days later, Vayra stood behind one of the arena¡¯s gates, preparing to step inside and face her first opponent. She had tidied up her new robes and tucked her pistol into her cumberbund, and her scarf still hung tight around her neck, ready for her to draw starlight out of. Adair perched on her shoulder, his tiny claws digging into the neck-line of her robe. She didn¡¯t know who the first opponent would be yet, but she was ready. She paced back and forth across the floor of a vestibule¡ªthe same one she stood in before the opening ceremony¡ªwaiting for the gates to open and deposit her onto the arena¡¯s main floor. The cheers of the crowd roared through the door. Light seeped through the cracks between the doors, especially bright¡ªone of Altrous¡¯ projections still remained above the arena, providing the spectators a better view of what had just happened. There had just been a fight. Techniques had clashed and, in the two rounds, one God-heir had reigned victorious. It was a best of three, unless her opponent died¡ªat which point she automatically won. The fights weren¡¯t supposed to be to the death, but no one would stop a fight if a contestant refused to surrender. If the contestant did surrender, the match would reset until one contestant had surrendered twice. Then the gates swung open. Vayra stepped out into the light of the arena. Sunlight shone down directly from above, from the system¡¯s star beyond the cracks of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust, and from one of Altrous¡¯ projections. This time, it displayed an image of her and another man, a hologram suspended hundreds of feet above their heads. Just like during the opening ceremony, people packed into the stands of the arena, watching and cheering, but now, a barrier of water rose from a moat around the fighting arena¡¯s edge, protecting the observers from stray techniques. An enormous man walked out the opposite gate and met Vayra in the center of the arena. He had long brown hair and a bicorne hat, and he wore a black cloak. His bare chest was covered in glowing silver tattoos and scars. His weapon was a ship¡¯s anchor. He heaved it up onto his shoulder like a giant club, then raised it above his head and presented the rusty implement to the crowd. They cheered. ¡°Phason¨¦, remember this guy?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®We¡¯ve never met.¡¯ ¡°Recall his name in any of the prep we did?¡± she asked. ¡®It¡¯s on the tip of my tongue,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He¡¯s a moon-Path user. Something about the Crescent Dealers.¡¯ ¡°Doesn¡¯t strike me as a¡­child of the Moon Goddess,¡± Vayra muttered. She stepped into the center of the arena, following the footsteps of the previous contestants. There had already been four or five fights today, and spatters of blood covered the ground. There was an entire rainbow¡¯s worth of different colours of blood from different races and distant relatives of the Gods. Though all of the original Pantheon, the first cultivators who had advanced beyond Mascant and pioneered the ways of the Stream, were humans, they had been replaced and swapped throughout the years, and their children and grandchildren had bred, spreading their magic throughout the galaxy. ¡®When he strikes you, you¡¯ll feel it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Not what I meant,¡± Vayra whispered. She walked to the center of the arena and stopped a few paces away from the moon-Path heir, who towered a couple heads above her. He swung his anchor around and placed the tip down on the ground. A trail of silver sparks traced it through the air, but he didn¡¯t even appear to be using a Bracing technique to heft it. His body¡ªprobably enhanced¡ªwas doing all the work. Aside from the external moat and shielding wall, the arena had been modified to provide both of them a source of their element, so they could both properly use Reach techniques and would be on as even footing as possible. A rift in space floated to the right. It was too thin to slip through, but it provided a view into the distant stars, a window off into the cosmos, just like Phason¨¦¡¯s dress. Vayra could draw on the starlight. To the left was a different rift, but it provided a view of three moons in a night sky¡ªone silver, one green-tinted, and one orange-tinted. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. But, being on a moon themselves, this God-heir¡¯s authority was probably stronger than anyone else could¡¯ve imagined. He was probably feeling stronger than ever. They thought this was the best opponent to beat her. And it probably would¡¯ve been an unfair fight, but she had her own unfair advantages. She cycled Arcara, preparing for the inevitable clash. Take him out in two rounds. Simple. Easy. Karmion didn¡¯t have a projection of himself, but he did project his voice across the arena. ¡°Danaes Quill, no sponsor. He uses the Path of the Crescent Dealer.¡± The moon-Path heir, Danaes, bowed to the audience, but in the general direction of Karmion¡¯s tower. ¡°And Vayra of Tavelle,¡± Karmion said. ¡°Sponsor: King Tallerion of Velaydia. She uses the Path of the Godscourge.¡± He spat the last word with great contempt, then cut off his vocal amplification. A trumpet blared, signalling the beginning of the first fight. Vayra immediately jumped back and let Danaes unleash a barrage of opening swings. As they stepped back, Vayra whispered, ¡°Phas, remember what his Path provides him?¡± ¡®It has a focus on strength and Bracing techniques,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He¡¯s similar to Larra in that way. We should beat him in a similar way¡ªspeed and agility, strike where he isn¡¯t protecting himself.¡¯ Noted. Then Danaes activated a Bracing technique. Silver light formed cages around his arms, and his swipes rippled through the air with double the strength. One hit, and he¡¯d erase her from existence. Moonlight gathered on the crescent tip of his anchor-club, swirling patterns of green, orange, and silver. Whenever the anchor struck the ground, it sent out shockwaves through the sand, and Vayra almost stumbled. She activated her own, the Astral Shroud, and Moulded her scythe. In a blink, she darted between his legs, sliding through the sand on her elbows. She flashed to the other side of Danaes, then hooked his Braced arm with her scythe. The Bracing technique clashed with the Moulded Arcara and the heat of her technique, but she distracted him and pulled him off balance. She struck him in the spine with a Starlight Palm and sent him skidding across the arena. The battle proceeded similarly for a few minutes. She flashed around him, zipping to different points and slashing where his anchor wasn¡¯t. He conjured a new technique, forming three circling orbs of different coloured moonlight around himself. He used them to blast cannonball-wide beams of moonlight and Arcara at her. One struck her in the chest, and she just barely Warded herself in time to prevent it, but unlike starlight, moonlight burned cold. Even beneath the Warding, it left an icy shiver through her body. The ranged attacks would prove more difficult. They shot out fast, and she barely had time to react to them before they collided, even when she was using the Astral Shroud. Another blasted past her mechanical arm, sending shivers through her Arcara. They weren¡¯t all that accurate, either, but they didn¡¯t need to be to cause damage, as long as they corralled her or did some damage. Time to try out her new strategy, then. She reached up and ran her hand down Adair¡¯s back, absorbing slices of his will and some of his attributes. They flooded into her, empowering her reaction speed and timing and giving her the agility to do something about it. The next time a beam of green moonlight blasted past, racing near the tip of her nose, she ducked and slipped out of the way before it even got close. Danaes was just too slow, and he couldn¡¯t land a hit. The moment he dropped his Bracing techniques to put more power into his ranged attacks, she darted close and held her scythe up to his neck, forcing him to surrender. Between rounds, they had thirty minutes to prepare for the next fight. Vayra walked to the edge of the arena, just in front of her gate, and on the drawbridge over the moat at the arena¡¯s edge. A few Order of Balance disciples stood there, as well as King Tallerion¡¯s aide and Nathariel. ¡°Play it cool,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Play it safe. You have this one in the bag, as long as he doesn¡¯t have any more tricks up his sleeve.¡± Vayra nodded, then dipped her hands in a vat of Stream water to replenish her mana. She drew the energy out and poured it into her body, refilling her stores. When the half-hour intermission was over, a trumpet blasted. Her mana had refilled, and she was ready to keep fighting. The second round went the same as the first. Quick dodges, quick swipes, and drawing on Adair¡¯s abilities to guide her around the arena and avoid Danaes¡¯ attacks. She pummelled him with Starlight Palms and used a blast of concentrated energy out her pistol to knock his Warded anchor-club aside, then pressed the tip of her scythe up against his heart. He growled and shouted something incomprehensible, then Warded his chest and threw out a punch. Vayra bent backward, like she was limboing under a low bridge, then slashed Danaes¡¯ calf¡ªwhere he wasn¡¯t shielding. When he fell to his knees, she jumped up onto his shoulders and wrapped the haft of her scythe around his throat. ¡°You¡¯ve lost,¡± she whispered. ¡°Surrender, and you¡¯ll live.¡± Danaes deactivated all his techniques and lowered his arms. ¡°I surrender.¡± First fight down. Eight more to go. Glade watched the fight from the shelter of the Velaydian tower. Vayra dealt with her opponent quickly and mercifully, and he had to admit¡­her putting out so many techniques at once was impressive. He remembered training on the forecastle of the Champion of Tavelle, helping her learn Warding. He remembered the early fights in the Limassenor arena, when she was just learning to use a scythe. She¡¯d come so far since then. They might, might, just stand a chance. Chapter 15: Illusions [Volume 4] Glade¡¯s first fight took place the next day. He stepped out into the arena when the gates opened, letting the daylight wash across his face. They were near the end of the first bracket, and this was one of the last fights in the first round. He drew his sword and held it up to the light, but as soon as he began walking across the arena, a chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust shifted across the sun, blocking all natural light. Only the golden projections of their forms hovered above the arena, illuminating the sand and the contestants. Glade approached a tall elven man with a pair of battle axes. Elves weren¡¯t naturally immortal, but they were naturally long-lived, and when they were God-heirs, they tended to live even longer. He was fighting an opponent with decades more experience than the other contestants, and that would have to count for something. Against him, though. But he was an elf, a full-blooded elf as best Glade could see¡ªhe had pointy ears that stuck straight out the side of his head and perfect olive skin¡ªand that meant he was on an illusion-based Path. He was a descendant of Kalawen, Goddess of Love. Aside from an especially handsome appearance, he¡¯d conjure illusions and strike at his opponent¡¯s soul while they were distracted. Especially effective against a sword-user, who conceivably wouldn¡¯t have any aura or area-of-effect attacks to test illusions en-masse. They¡¯d done this on purpose. ¡°Be careful,¡± Glade whispered to the swordwyrm, which hovered just behind him. ¡°He will create illusions.¡± ¡°Brelond,¡± Karmion announced. ¡°Sponsored by Kalawen, on the Path of the Mistaxe.¡± At that, the crowd let off a roaring cheer. Candles lit up all across the stands, illuminating the audience even in the midday darkness. From Glade¡¯s pre-match research, Brelond had been a relatively popular figure amongst the citizens of the Elderworlds for his help in crushing a rebellion and dealing with a Ko-Ganall, and stories about him had circulated around the galaxy in droves. ¡°Glade Charl Arvitir,¡± Karmion continued. ¡°Sponsered by King Tallerion, using the Path of the Autumn Edge.¡± The crowd fell silent. The swordwyrm leaned closer to Glade, and in its soft, metallic voice, it said, ¡°They don¡¯t like sword-friend.¡± ¡°I would not expect them to.¡± Glade held his sword out to his side, then spun it once and bent his knees. He was ready. A trumpet blared, Karmion¡¯s enhanced voice cut off, and the fight began. Immediately, ten illusions sprang up around Glade, all a perfect replica of Brelond¡ªdown to the flowing sleeveless robes and long blonde hair. But Glade kept his gaze pinned to the one Brelond who¡¯d been standing in place before the fight began. All the illusory Brelonds, and the one real one, converged at once. Glade pounced at the real Brelond, but the God-heir had to have been expecting it. Purple illusion-aspect Arcara swirled up his arms, Bracing himself, and he swung his axes with the strength of a charging horse. Glade blocked and parried each swipe, ignoring the illusions even when they converged on him. As long as he kept focussed, the illusions couldn¡¯t affect him. But Brelond maintained his pressure. He attacked hard and fast, pushing Glade back across the arena. Glade defended every swipe precisely and expertly. The swordwyrm dipped in to help, deflecting every second axe swipe and relieving pressure from Glade. They didn¡¯t show an opening, and Brelond wouldn¡¯t land a finishing blow. But the elven man did land a kick. Glade spun, sliding backward and creating a puff of sand. He skidded to a halt, swordwyrm at his side, and stared at the ten images of Brelond. For just a second, he¡¯d lost sight of the real elf. It could¡¯ve been any of them, now. He charged at the same elf in front of him, hoping Brelond hadn¡¯t had time to switch places, but his sword swished right through the illusion with no resistance. Illusions were a manipulation of the soul¡ªperfect for a God-heir from the Goddess of Love. They wouldn¡¯t appear to anyone except the victim. Everyone else would just be seeing him slashing at empty air. An image of Brelond charged at him, but he slipped to the side, letting the axe flash past his face. It might not have been real, but he couldn¡¯t take that chance with his life¡ªand the tournament¡ªon the line. ¡°Test them,¡± Glade whispered to the swordwyrm. If he had a broad, sweeping attack, he could test them all at once, but this was meant to be a terrible match up for him. The swordwyrm swished in a circle around him, orbiting like a planet around a star. It hacked through illusions. Each one made an effort to dodge the blade, like a God-heir might, with all their capabilities and speed. It hit some, and they disintegrated, falling out of Glade¡¯s perception. He whirled his sword in a defensive pattern, creating a cage of steel around himself as he backed away. The illusions moved to encircle him, and he needed to protect against all angles. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. With his spare hand, he opened his pouch of metal filings and shavings and drew them out with a Reach technique. They flashed through the air and whipped past an illusion, slicing off a chunk of its shoulder. It disintegrated. As quickly as he and the swordwyrm tested them, though, more sprang up, forming a perfect, enclosing circle around him, and it took all his effort to keep them at bay. If he didn¡¯t change tactics, he¡¯d lose. They¡¯d encroach on him, then the real Brelond would defeat him. Illusions preyed on the soul. He could resist them if he had a soul-Bracing technique, but he didn¡¯t. The best he could do was internal Warding, but that wouldn¡¯t affect his soul. But what would a Bracing technique for the soul do? Improve his willpower, his ability to cycle? He could focus and direct his willpower whenever he wanted. He switched from a combat-focussed cycling pattern to a purification-focussed pattern. He didn¡¯t have any elixirs to integrate or spare mana to use, but it was the most willpower intensive, and it¡¯d automatically draw out more from his soul¡ªpush it to its limit. All of the illusions dimmed except one. That was the real Brelond. But Glade couldn¡¯t let the elf know that he¡¯d seen through the technique. He charged at a misty, half-formed illusion beside Brelond. The elf had spent all his time practicing illusions, and had dedicated no effort to training his martial skills¡ªnot to the extent that Glade had. Even with Glade using a purification cycling pattern, he could exert more power through sheer skill with a sword. And he could do it faster. He lunged, aiming for the illusion beside Brelond. As expected, the real Brelond didn¡¯t react¡ªnot until it was too late. Glade turned his sword to the side and sliced toward the elf, aiming for the neck. Brelond raised his axes, but he was too slow, and instead of blocking, he trapped Glade¡¯s sword in a terrible position. ¡°With a flick of my wrist, you are dead,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°Give up.¡± ¡°H¡ªhow?¡± Brelond scrunched his eyebrows. He cycled furiously, pouring more Arcara into the illusions, but Glade didn¡¯t let the real one out of his sight. An illusion charged at him from behind, swinging its axe, but it passed straight through Glade with no volume, mass, or impact. The swordwyrm danced around still, slicing up illusions without a care, but Glade had already won. ¡°I won¡¯t lose to you, Velaydian!¡± Brelond spat, then tipped his wrist forward, trying to slash Glade with one of his axes. Glade ripped his sword to the side, slashing Brelond¡¯s throat and dodging the spurt of blood. The elf¡¯s body fell limp to the ground, unmoving, but for good measure¡ªand to lessen the suffering¡ªGlade drove his sword through the man¡¯s heart. The crowd was mostly silent, aside from a few scattered jeers and murmuring. Someone shouted praise from the Velaydian tower, but it barely reached the arena bottom. Glade flicked the blood off his sword and beckoned the swordwyrm closer. ¡°Good work, bud.¡± Vayra knew why Glade had been slashing at empty air, dodging things that didn¡¯t exist, and all around looking like a desperate fool, but it didn¡¯t make it any less¡­jarring. Still, she clung to the railing of a perch in the Velaydian observation tower, overlooking the whole scene with confusion and awe. He¡¯d gotten so much stronger, still, and even if his well of mana was comparatively tiny, and his spirit strained beyond belief, he was still miles ahead of anyone else in the Order of balance. But if he couldn¡¯t defeat the illusions, it would all be over. When he reached his opponent, relief and pride swelled in her. And though she didn¡¯t relish the thought of killing that elf, she couldn¡¯t deny her relief that it had only been one round. Glade might not have had enough mana to make it through a second round. ¡°He knows what to do,¡± Nathariel said, standing behind her. Still, there was no window, only a wooden railing separating her from the arena miles below. She used a standard Bracing technique on her throat and voicebox, then clapped and hollered, ¡°Good work, Glade! Good job!¡± It didn¡¯t travel far, but it was better than nothing. For the next few minutes, the guards cleaned out the arena, sweeping the sand dragging away the elf¡¯s body. Then the next contestants entered. Vayra swallowed down an instinctive fear when Myrrir stepped into the arena. He was only a distant red and bronze speck, but her reforged, enhanced vision still picked him out. A sunlight projection of him appeared moments later, towering above the arena¡ªand hovering at eye level for the watchers in the tower. She clenched her teeth and kept watching, even as Karmion introduced Myrrir and his opponent¡ªsome human woman using a plant-based Path. Myrrir, who¡¯d chased her halfway across the galaxy, and Myrrir, who¡¯d impaled her with a Shadowthorn and severed two of her limbs. She watched the fight closely, hoping that, at any moment, he might be eliminated. With each impact, her heart swelled, but the woman never gained the upper hand. Myrrir forced her to surrender once, and Vayra cursed under her breath. During the intermission between the fights, Glade arrived at their level of the tower. He plunked a hat onto his head and approached the railing. ¡°Is everything alright, Vayra?¡± ¡°It¡¯s Myrrir,¡± she said. The next round of Myrrir¡¯s fight proceeded the same as the first. The plant-manipulating woman got close, her vines reaching out of the ground and ensnaring Myrrir¡¯s ankles, but the little green bands weren¡¯t enough to take him down. Glade muttered, ¡°I thought, being a manipulator of plants, she might have been Ameena.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Myr friend from Harvest Sanctuary.¡± ¡°This one¡¯s a human, though,¡± Vayra said¡ªand just in time for Myrrir to force the woman to surrender a second time. He was progressing to the next round with them. ¡®Will you be able to face him?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®Can you win if you face him?¡¯ ¡°I might have to.¡± Vayra shook her head and pushed away from the railing. ¡°It¡¯s time.¡± Chapter 16: Tossing and Turning [Volume 4] Vayra laid on her hammock in the contestants¡¯ quarters, staring up at the ceiling and trying to get her heartbeat to slow down so she could sleep. It didn¡¯t obey. Even though it was nighttime and pitch-black outside (with the help of a chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust blocking the starlight and planetlight), she couldn¡¯t relax. She swayed side-to-side, trying to get the hammock to comfort her. It didn¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t have the same rocking movement of the officers¡¯ quarters aboard the Harmony. She laid her hands on her stomach and exhaled. ¡®Slow breaths, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said inside her mind. ¡®Try to use a basic cycling pattern. I¡¯m sending Adair out to you.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯d think I¡¯d be better at relaxing after a fight¡­after all this time,¡± she whispered. Her door was closed, separating her from Glade¡¯s room and the common room, where Nathariel was sleeping. ¡®After¡­what, a year of being together? That¡¯s not much time.¡¯ Vayra tried cycling, taking slow breaths like the goddess had suggested. It only half helped, ¡°It feels like a long time for me.¡± ¡®Not for five-hundred-year-old me, sadly.¡¯ ¡°But it¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t been doing...stuff like this my whole life.¡± ¡®What? Hunting gods and fighting in arcane tournaments? You¡¯ve had a secret life you were hiding from me?¡¯ Phason¨¦ said it jokingly¡ªVayra could tell, and sense, that much¡ªbut it still had a hint of frustration to it. ¡°No, just running from the authorities. Or from Helpers. Or climbing buildings and sprinting through the streets, or getting into fights with other Discarded. I thought I¡¯d sleep well still, but it¡¯s been getting worse.¡± ¡®Vayra, that¡¯s called pressure,¡¯ said Phason¨¦, her voice taking on a more comforting tone. ¡®Before, it was just you.¡¯ ¡°Just me and Bremi.¡± ¡®If you failed, it was just you two who would suffer. If you fail here¡ª¡¯ ¡°Please, Phas, don¡¯t remind me.¡± Vayra pressed her head back into the hammock. Adair emerged from the corespace, right in her hands¡ªthough he was much too big to fit in her hands anymore. He plodded up her stomach and curled up on her chest. At least he was still sleepy, or trying to relax. ¡®Apologies,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I was just trying to illustrate a point.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m not mad.¡± ¡®I know. Now pet the cat and let yourself relax.¡¯ ¡°Working on it.¡± Vayra ran a hand down Adair¡¯s spine. Conceivably, if he could transfer his reaction speed and cat-like instincts, it¡¯d be possible to get other cat-like abilities. She¡¯d always seen cats relaxing and resting in sunbeams or lazing around on windowsills, and Adair was incredibly relaxed at the moment. She activated her spiritual sight and searched for the hair of his Arcara system, running along his back like spines, and when she found them, she ran her hand along his back. For a brief second, the calm, cat-like laziness bled into her, but then Adair¡¯s fur spiked up and his head shot up. Vayra pulled her hand away. ¡°Sorry!¡± she whispered to the cat. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡­are you alright? Did something happen? Adair?¡± The cat sprang to his feet and jumped off her chest. He landed on the floor beside the hammock with a soft thump, then prowled to the door and scratched at it. ¡®I don¡¯t think he¡¯s mad at you,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Then what¡ª¡± Vayra cut herself off the moment the back of her neck began tingling. It was sharp and abrupt, like a new presence had just appeared, and she shut her eyes, trying to get her rudimentary spiritual senses to activate. Her gut called out in warning, almost like an instinct¡ªthere was someone powerful nearby, and they¡¯d just unveiled themselves. Vayra jumped out of her hammock and landed in a crouch beside Adair. She cycled Arcara quickly, preparing a combat-focussed pattern. There was no time to grab her outer robe, but she snatched up her scarf from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around her neck. There wasn¡¯t time to tie it properly. It draped down over her chest wrap and down to her breeches. ¡°Phas, are you¡ª¡± Before Vayra could finish, the wall in front of her exploded. Shards of stone and wood pelted into the room, and she had just enough wit to cast a Ward in the air in front of herself to shield herself. She dove and snatched up Adair, protecting him as well. A group of four shadowy forms stood in the common room of their apartment, lit only by the light of Vayra¡¯s Ward. They all wore tight black coats and had pale blue hair. Assassins. As soon as they unveiled their spirits, Vayra assessed them. Three Second Lieutenants and a Commodore. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Nathariel leapt to his feet. He had been sleeping in the corner, but there was no way he was resting through all that. The Commodore pointed his staff at Nathariel. Arcara swirled on the tips of his fingers, then ran down his staff. He used a Reach technique, manipulating the wind, and blasted the still groggy, confused Nathariel into the wall behind. Nathariel smashed through the wall and tumbled into the hallway. Not good. The Commodore sprang forward and gripped Vayra by the neck, boosting himself with a puff of wind. The air swirled around him, enhancing his every movement, and dipping away when he needed, allowing him to move faster than the average God-heir. Adair scrambled up her leg, then her back. A normal kitten might have disregarded her comfort, but Adair had enough intelligence to leap to her short breeches, then to her chest-wrap, then to her scarf, holding on with just his little claws. The three Second Lieutenants all turned toward Glade¡¯s room and kicked down the door. He¡¯d probably be fine, but Vayra had bigger issues. Slamming her arms down on the God-heir¡¯s elbow, she tried to break his grip and make him release her. Nothing worked. His fingers were too strong. She just had to last until Nathariel came back, though. She Moulded her scythe, preparing to swing at the Commodore and keep him busy. The whirring, screeching head of Moulded starlight formed with a snap-hiss. With an irritated grunt, the Commodore threw her. She Warded her back and smashed through the outside wall of the contestant quarters, but stone shards still left slices and gashes along her sides. She plummeted a few hundred feet and fell to the risers below and landed hard, then tumbled down a few levels and crashed against the backs of a wooden chair. Nearby, a small village of tents and ramshackle wooden structures waited in the stands, and mortal observers stepped outside to watch and stare. Some clung to the roofs, only silhouettes, and others stood just outside their tents¡¯ flaps. They all knew not to interfere with a fight between God-heirs. They¡¯d just end up dead, reduced to a red mist in an instant by a stray technique. The Commodore floated down through the hole, suspending himself with swirling wind. His short hair fluttered, and the tails of his coat swayed. He held his staff straight out in front of him. ¡°Sister,¡± the Commodore said slowly, his breath airy and light. ¡°Are you in there, somewhere? Can you hear me?¡± Groaning, Vayra pushed herself up. As she rose, a chunk of the moon¡¯s crust high above shifted, letting orange-tinted planetlight seep down to the arena floor. It washed across the Commodore, illuminating his face entirely. Vayra brushed dust off her shoulder and coughed, then spun her scythe around into a fighting position. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose he¡¯s talking to me?¡± Unless Bremi had gotten a lot broader, clipped his ears, and somehow gained a massive spirit potential, it couldn¡¯t have been her brother. ¡®Narril¨¦,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I know him. He¡¯s my younger brother, one of thirty¡­thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?¡¯ Phason¨¦ was originally a daughter of the Wind Goddess, and these assassins were using a wind Path. It made enough sense. She manifested outside of Vayra¡¯s body, standing in the crumbling stone risers a few feet to the side. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± she said, audible to all around. The scythe faded from Vayra¡¯s hand and appeared in the hands of Phason¨¦¡¯s projection. Narril¨¦ landed three paces away from them. ¡°Mother sent me to finish you off. She believes it to be a mercy.¡± Phason¨¦ snorted. ¡°Does she?¡± Vayra raised her eyebrows and looked at Narril¨¦. ¡°If she thinks you can beat a god¡ª¡± Narril¨¦ leapt forward, again using wind to boost his speed. Vayra passed mana to Phason¨¦, then activated the Astral Shroud. Phason¨¦¡¯s apparition gripped her brother¡¯s staff right in the center then threw him back, sending him crashing through the risers with a puff of white marble. His enhanced body absorbed most of the blow. ¡°He¡¯s your favourite sibling, huh?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I was hoping for a chance to do that to one of them,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°They were always slaves to mother¡¯s will, threatening me and doing her bidding without question, and laughing at me endlessly for taking a different Path.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll have any aversion to pounding him into the ground, then,¡± Vayra said. ¡°He tried to kill us. He still will, if mother has requested that he do it.¡± Already, Narril¨¦ was standing up. He encased himself in wind, some sort of Bracing technique, and sprinted back up the risers toward them. ¡°Alright, now get back inside me, Phas,¡± Vayra said. They were stronger together. ¡°One second.¡± Phason¨¦¡¯s apparition dematerialized into a puff of sparks and raced back inside Vayra. The scythe re-appeared in Vayra¡¯s hand, ready to slice and cut. ¡®He is a Commodore,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡°We have the Mediator Form,¡± Vayra replied. ¡°And a cat.¡± She reached up and patted Adair¡¯s back, absorbing some of his instincts. ¡®He has his own¡ª¡¯ Before Phason¨¦ could finish, Narril¨¦ flashed toward them, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat. A white light shone in his eyes, and an orb of silver beamed in his chest. A teleportation device? A treasure of some kind? He lashed out and punched. Vayra dodged the first, dipping to the side with the help of Adair¡¯s reflexes and the Astral Shroud, but he threw out a second punch with just as much speed, catching her off-guard. The strength of the blow flung her across the risers. ¡®I was going to say that he had tricks of his own,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®A spatial transport treasure¡ªa gift from mother.¡¯ ¡°Did you really think you could defeat me, sister?¡± Narril¨¦ sneered. ¡°Even in your godly form, when your overconfidence might have been warranted, you were weak! You¡¯re still weak, and with this form, nonetheless?¡± ¡°Uh¡­she can¡¯t hear you,¡± Vayra lied, panting and coughing. ¡®Yes I can!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡°No you can¡¯t,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Just go with it.¡± ¡®What? I can read your mind. You¡¯re just making stuff up.¡¯ ¡°Look deeper! I¡¯m stalling.¡± There was so much about this relationship between Phason¨¦ and her brother, this family, and the gods as a whole that Vayra didn¡¯t understand. Couldn¡¯t hope to understand. Really, about the whole galaxy. But it was time to stop pretending she had everything figured out. A chill ran down her spine, and goosebumps rose all across her body. Her soul resonated in unison with her body and spirit. Narril¨¦ marched forward, twirling his staff behind himself. ¡°You¡¯re done for.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing I know my Commodore revelation now.¡± Chapter 17: Commodore [Volume 4] Glade awoke to a crash. He sprang up from his hammock, just in time for his door to be kicked open. Three God-heirs in black coats marched into the tiny room, holding staffs and cycling Second Lieutenant-grade Arcara. An ambush. If they hadn¡¯t made such a loud noise, it might just have worked, but in a fair fight, they wouldn¡¯t last long against a peak Captain. Against him. Glade tensed, directing mana into his gut and chest, fuelling his Dawnspear body. The assassins unleashed a burst of wind and powerful strikes that drove him to the ground. He ripped through the hammock and fell hard on his back, cracking the floor beneath him. The rushing air tried to rip the skin off his bare chest and shatter his bones. But, even hammered by fists of wind, he had the strength to move. He thrust a kick out at the nearest assassin, shattering the man¡¯s knee in a single blow. The swordwyrm leapt out of the room¡¯s corner and engaged, slashing at one of the assassins, and Glade directed the metal filings in his pouch to leap out and form a spike. It impaled the third assassin through the heart. He whirled around, facing the last two, and grasped his sword from its resting place beside the door. With a single swipe, he tugged it out of its sheath. The assassin with the shattered knee charged, but Glade conjured a wedge of sharp Arcara along the length of his blade and slashed right through the staff. With a second swipe, he slashed upward and across the assassin¡¯s gut, then cut her head off to end her quickly. The swordwyrm pinned the last assassin¡¯s foot, locking the man in place. It shifted its hulking blade to the side to block a pulse of wind. Glade approached, trying to gauge if the man wanted to run or not. But the God-heir kept launching puffs of wind at Glade. One struck him in the shoulder, making him reel. Loyal to whoever sent them up to the very end. Glade was tempted to stop, to try and interrogate the man, but there was no point. He knew exactly who had sent these assassins. They were wind-Path God-heirs, after all, and they would be subservient to the High Pantheon. When the assassin showed an opening, Glade lunged forward and jabbed his sword through the man¡¯s neck, ending him quickly. The swordwyrm fluttered away and swirled up behind Glade¡¯s back, hoving just behind him. ¡°Fiends,¡± it hissed. ¡°Ambushy fiends!¡± ¡°Thanks for the help,¡± Glade whispered. He rubbed his shoulder, but really, his whole body was aching. His spirit screamed with strain, and his channels ached, ready to burst apart and fizzle. It was an itch he couldn¡¯t scratch, but ten times as painful. But the assassins wouldn¡¯t have been here just for him. He couldn¡¯t just stand around. He gritted his teeth, then cut off as many of his techniques as he could to preserve mana. He just needed enough to keep his body moving. He ran out into their apartment¡¯s common room. A hole had been torn in the opposite wall, where Vayra¡¯s room was, but she was nowhere to be seen. There was another hole that led into the outer hallway, where Nathariel stood, brushing dust off his shoulders. ¡°You could have helped,¡± Glade grumbled. ¡°You had everything under control,¡± Nathariel said, marching across the ruined apartment, to the last hole¡ªwhich led out to the risers of the arena. ¡°I was more concerned about Vayra, aye?¡± Glade ran to the edge of the hole with Nathariel, and they both looked out upon the terraced stone slope. The God-heirs had smashed through the sloped risers, leaving a scar in the seats. In the distance stood Vayra, glowing white and holding her scythe. She faced the last assassin¡ªa Commodore-stage foe. She was still in her sleepwear, and clear phoenix blood dribbled from scrapes across her body. ¡°We need to help!¡± Glade exclaimed. ¡°I don¡¯t think we need to,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°But you said you were¡ª¡± ¡°I said I was more concerned. Not that I am now.¡± Nathariel pointed out at her. ¡°She¡¯s on the brink of something. We can¡¯t interfere, now, or she might not make the advancement.¡± Glade shut his eyes. It ached, not being able to do anything. She was the Mediator, and he¡¯d sworn to help on the behalf of the Order, but she was also his friend. He¡¯d always thought he was fated to help the Mediator. But that didn¡¯t really line up with his last revelation, and it couldn¡¯t really be true. He hadn¡¯t looked into Fate, and he doubted he even had the spiritual potential to make the kausisia work¡ªif he¡¯d been able to get his hands on it. Besides, even if he could look into Fate, he probably wouldn¡¯t register as any more than a slight blip. He wasn¡¯t a God or a Mediator. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. That was enough to make his soul quiver and tremble, but not enough to push him over the edge. ¡°You have an advancement to make, too, aye?¡± Nathariel said. ¡°You have enough Arcara, and you¡¯ve reached the advancement threshold.¡± Glade nodded. ¡°I know you¡¯re close. One last push. You¡¯re thinking about it now, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I am.¡± Vayra ducked to the side and struck Narril¨¦ with a Starlight Palm, buying herself time. ¡°Phas, I know my revelation. Is it going to debilitate me for a little while?¡± ¡®It¡¯ll be like your advancement to Captain. He won¡¯t be able to hit you.¡¯ ¡°Great.¡± Vayra crouched down on the stands and pressed her fist against the stone seats below her, acutely aware of the mortal eyes watching, as well as a few God-heir contestants from the apartment complex. She needed to end it quickly, or the arena guards would come and break up the fight, and Narril¨¦ would get away. He wouldn¡¯t stop; he¡¯d just come back and get them at an even less convenient time. First, she clutched Adair and drew him into the corespace to protect him, then she shut her eyes and whispered her revelation. ¡°I don¡¯t understand the galaxy.¡± Not only was it true, but¡­she had to stop pretending. A wave of force radiated away from her, and her core trembled, like it was about to implode. Arcara swirled and poured into it, then an invisible, empty wind shot away from her in all directions, pushing Narril¨¦ away. ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick,¡± Vayra hissed through clenched teeth. White sparks whirled in a vortex around her. ¡°Is it reforging my body the whole way again?¡± ¡®Not your body,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®This time, your Arcara channels and core are reforging themselves into something greater. More stable, more solid, more real. The gap between your real body and your spiritual systems is closing.¡¯ A pang of spiritual shock and resonance blasted through her, and her entire Arcara system liquified, then poured out into her muscles and bones. Invisible tendrils wrapped her limbs, binding her system further to her real form. But since it wasn¡¯t reforging her entire body, it didn¡¯t take as long. Within ten, maybe fifteen seconds, the whirling white sparks died out. A pulse of white lightning blasted through her, and her channels returned to reality, burning twice as strong and bright in her perception as they had before. Her core felt no different, except that its outer crust seemed just a little more¡­hard. Solid. Immediately, when the whirlwind ended, Narril¨¦ dashed into action, swinging his staff like an enormous sword. Vayra bent backward, dipping under it just in time. She barely saw it coming, but it left ripples in her awareness, as if her mind had an invisible model of everything around her. The warning of danger in her spirit was twice as strong. So that was what her Commodore-stage spiritual senses were like. There was no time to test the range. She was on even footing as Narril¨¦. Aside from the enhanced senses, her Arcara had improved a grade, making it purer, faster, and stronger. She held her arms up, clenched her fists, and took a fighting stance. Narill¨¦ noticed it as well. A whisper of fear set into his eyes, but he still whirled his staff and charged in. The advancement had taken most of Vayra¡¯s mana, but the Mediator Form could resolve that. She shut her eyes, aligned her will with Phason¨¦, and let the Goddess envelop her, sharing the same wheel. And she pushed it as hard as she could, using the Goddess¡¯ energies from high above, borrowing Emissary-grade Arcara, and letting it cycle as fast as she could, purifying new Arcara in a matter of seconds. All while Narril¨¦ approached, unleashing a flurry of wind-enhanced blows with his staff. Vayra and Phason¨¦ ducked away from one, and when they had enough Arcara, they activated the Astral Shroud. And then it was over for the God-heir. They whirled around his back and struck him with a flurry of Starlight Palms. He reeled and activated his teleportation device, whatever sort of treasure it was, and flashed to the opposite side of her. She spun to face him, trusting her enhanced spiritual senses and pinpointing exactly where he¡¯d be. They grabbed his staff with their mechanical hand, and with the strength and enhanced grade of their Commodore Arcara, they willed their hand to crush it into splinters. In a matter of seconds, they had Narril¨¦ on his back, panting and gasping. Kicking, tripping, gut-strikes and Starlight Palms, all too fast for even him to counter. Vayra deactivated the Mediator Form and the Astral Shroud and leaned over him. She conjured the scythe and held it at his throat. ¡°Phason¨¦ helped with that, I¡¯ll have you know,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I hate you, sister,¡± he gasped. His left hand dipped into his coat, under the guise of covering a wound. ¡®Vayra, he¡¯s reaching for a dagger¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡°I sense it,¡± she whispered back. As soon as he drew the dagger, she whirled the scythe and slashed through his wrist, severing the hand that held it. He screamed and writhed, but hated and determination still burned in his eyes. ¡®He¡¯s not going to give up.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes and clenched every muscle for a second, then slashed his head off with her scythe as quickly as she could. She fell back on the risers, panting, then turned away from the God-heir¡¯s body. ¡®We had to do it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°How many are they going to throw at us?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Karmion? The other gods? How many children are they going to sacrifice?¡± ¡®This was the work of my mother,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. She paused for a few more seconds, then added, ¡®Maybe it¡¯s time I had a conversation with her.¡¯ Chapter 18: Two Visitors It was midnight, and Vayra should have been sleeping, but there was no way she could go to sleep now. Besides, she wouldn¡¯t have another fight for a few days, and with an advancement to Commodore, she was feeling more refreshed than ever. No better reason to take Phason¨¦ up on her offer. ¡°You know where your mother will be?¡± Vayra whispered. She still knelt on the risers, staring out across the empty nighttime arena. There was no sense of warning, no threat, coming from the apartment anymore. Glade and Nathariel would¡¯ve dealt with the others handily. It may have been a genuine assassination attempt, if Phason¨¦¡¯s mother, Brann?l, thought a single Commodore would be enough to destroy them. But chances were, it was a prodding of their defenses. A test. ¡®I have my guesses,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Head to her tower¡ªthe tall one with the pagoda eaves and open gables.¡¯ ¡°On it.¡± Vayra cast one more glance back at the contestants¡¯ quarters. Glade and Nathariel stood on the threshold between the arena and the apartment, watching her from the hole in the wall. ¡°Is it¡­a great idea to go on our own?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We did kinda promise them¡­¡± ¡®As if Nathariel, an Admiral, could do anything against my mother.¡¯ ¡°True, but¡­then we¡¯re just delivering ourselves to her. For what? To gloat?¡± ¡®To threaten her.¡¯ Vayra opened her mouth and raised a finger, then shut it again. ¡°Uh¡­pardon?¡± ¡®I know you heard me. She won¡¯t kill us, not until we reach Admiral or Grand Admiral or whatever rank their honour dictates they¡¯d feel fine killing us at. Karmion would punish her, no doubt, but she won¡¯t harm her reputation in such a way.¡¯ ¡°But threatening her? Is that a good idea? She¡¯ll send more assassins after us.¡± ¡®And we¡¯ll keep advancing. She has exponentially fewer Commodores than Captains, and even less Admirals or Grand Admirals.¡¯ ¡°Are we¡­going to gain anything out of this?¡± ¡®Do you want her to keep prodding us and keep trying her luck, or do you want her to back off? We can convince her to back off.¡¯ Vayra nodded. That made enough sense. She sprinted up the risers and to the outer ring of the arena, then streamed along the edge of it, aiming for Brann?l¡¯s tower. ~ ~ ~ ¡°What is she doing?¡± Glade whispered, watching her sprint up to the edge of the arena. ¡°She won.¡± ¡°I imagine she has some unfinished business,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°She and Phason¨¦.¡± ¡°We cannot let them go on their own. We agreed it was a bad idea.¡± ¡°Aye, but the likelihood of another attack happening so soon is slim, and even if it did, this apartment would be the target.¡± Nathariel crossed his arms. ¡°You will need to keep pace with her. Focus on your advancement, and reach Commodore before she gets back.¡± Glade delivered a courteous nod, then again, drew on the same feeling that had been bubbling up inside him before. It doubled, now, and took a more aggressive form, and when he shut it down, a faint resonance trembled within him. Just needed to pinpoint it. Taking a few steps back from the damaged wall, he brushed off his pants, then crossed his legs and dropped down on the floor in a cross-legged sitting position. ¡°I am¡­useless?¡± Immediately, Nathariel flicked the back of Glade¡¯s head in annoyance. ¡°Apologies,¡± Glade said, recalling the proper format of the revelation that the others had spoken it in. ¡°I am not useful.¡± But both times, his soul and body refused to resonate, and there wasn¡¯t even a faint chill. That was further away from the revelation. ¡°I didn¡¯t flick you for that,¡± Nathariel grumbled. ¡°Unless that was truly your revelation, you should keep away from that line of thought. You will give yourself blockages and impair your growth, and we still need you to reach Grand Admiral at a record pace.¡± Glade sighed. ¡°I just thought it might¡­be closer.¡± ¡°What you are feeling is a clash between who you think you are, and who you know you are.¡± Nathariel crossed his arms. ¡°Do you think Vayra was destined to be the Mediator from birth, and that there was no other way around it?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Well¡ª¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how the Mediator works,¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°Not how the Stream picks it. There are a set of candidates, determined by their actions in their lives. The more courageous, striving, and determined someone is, the more likely they are to be a candidate. The first person to accept their candidacy when the previous Mediator dies is the next person to become the Mediator.¡± ¡°Vayra¡­did not strike me as determined when I first met her.¡± Nathariel chuckled. ¡°Determined for a different quest. It saw something in her, though, deep down, and it gave her the chance. But to say it was entirely preconceived would be an abject lie. She didn¡¯t have a presence in Fate until she accepted her powers, but even then, her future wasn¡¯t set.¡± ¡°How does that apply to me?¡± ¡°You thought your destiny was to die for the Order, whether in the service of the Mediator or not.¡± Glade shut his eyes, then looked away from Nathariel. A pang of embarrassment spiked through him. Nathariel had seen through him so easily. There was no turning back now. ¡°But I don¡¯t have a destiny¡­¡± Glade breathed. An invisible, soundless chime poured through his core and body, then rolled up to his mind and rattled in his head, bringing with it a sense of calm and peace. It was like a massive gong had just been rung beside him, and he was now dealing with the aftermath shaking his body. ¡°Very good,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Let the Arcara do its job.¡± Myrrir sat alone in the contestants¡¯ quarters, mulling about in the darkness. He¡¯d heard the sound of fighting outside¡ªand how could he not have?¡ªbut there was nothing he could do. Despite the pact of nonviolence, there had been fights breaking out in the contestants¡¯ quarters almost nightly. They just tried to keep it quiet. That is, until they slammed each other into the wall and made the whole place shudder. He crossed his arms and ignored the thundering. The first fight was supposed to make him feel better. He¡¯d won quickly, with no margin of error, and not even a risk of mistake. No one had said anything. Not even his own father had paid him a visit yet. This was supposed to be for the sake of Father, right? He grimaced, then stood up and immediately turned away from the window, but he caught a flash of white light in the corner of his vision, and it was enough to make him rethink. He took a half-step back toward the glass, then shook his head. ¡°There is no need for this, Myrrir,¡± came a voice from the edge of the room, from a dark shadow hanging across the corner like a draped blanket. Myrrir¡¯s peak Captain-stage eyes broke the shadows instantly. Nothing. There was nothing there. ¡°You could have given up on this life.¡± He whirled around, facing a different corner. There hanged the corpse of Tye, a noose around his neck, his old body rotting and maggoty. His eyes had been picked clean by seagulls and his skin flaked off, and his head was cocked to the side the same way any hanging victim would be. ¡°You¡¯re gone,¡± Myrrir muttered, then slapped the side of his head. ¡°You died.¡± He blinked rapidly, and the apparition disappeared. Gone, like it was never there. When he tried to remember the details, they slipped from his mind like dry sand. He was going mad. There was no two ways about it. But he could only think of one way to make it better. He¡¯d visit his father and demand recognition once more. Demand at least a comment on the last fight. Vayra reached Brann?l¡¯s tower in a matter of minutes. She jumped down onto the arena¡¯s perimeter walkway, then approached the tower¡¯s side entrance¡ªmuch like the entrance into Altrous¡¯ tower. Two guards stood at the entrance, and they seemed to both be around the Commodore stage, judging by the weight of their spirits. She kept herself veiled, and when she approached, she stayed at the edge of the perimeter walkway, shaded and sheltered by a stone bulwark on each side. She¡¯d already tucked her starry scarf into her breeches so it wouldn¡¯t shine and attract attention. The Commodores wouldn¡¯t notice her until she got closer. But the Goddess who owned the tower? ¡®We¡¯re strong enough. Brann?l won¡¯t notice us until we get much closer.¡¯ You¡¯re sure? Vayra shot back mentally. ¡®Unless we break our veil and attack them.¡¯ Then we won¡¯t do that. Vayra pressed her back against the bulwark behind her. The stone ledge was taller than her, and it blocked all the incoming orange planetlight. They needed to get the guards to back off, or to just look away for a few seconds. They¡¯re not going to fall for the old¡­throwing a rock off into the distance trick? ¡®I doubt it. They¡¯ll just sense that it¡¯s not a big threat.¡¯ Vayra resisted the urge to curse under her breath. Then we climb the tower. From the outside. Before, climbing a tower would still have made her breathe hard and fast, and it would have broken her veil, but now? She had better Arcara control than ever, especially at the Commodore stage. She could hold it in place with her will for a short time, regardless of her breathing technique. She scampered up the side of the bulwark as quickly as she could, the soft soles of her boots only rustling against the wall like wind. She rolled over the top of the bulwark and landed on the outward-sloping face of the arena¡¯s outer wall. Pressing her stomach to the roof, she crawled, navigating along the roof and approaching the tower. When she reached the edge of the tower, she navigated to its back side. It was about as wide as a ship of the line, and much taller, and though it had plenty of open walls and exposed windows, she could climb up its exterior with ease¡ªthere were ornaments for easy handholds and ledges to pause on. Once she couldn¡¯t see the guards anymore, she started to climb, hauling herself up the outside of the tower. She passed offices and sleeping quarters for Brann?l¡¯s staff, as well as her God-heirs who weren¡¯t participating in the tournament. There were no windows; the wind blew straight through the tower, a constant rush and blast. But none of them would see her. She kept to the edges and moved quickly. Her boots made dull thuds at most, and her fingers barely sounded at all when she grasped the ledges. When she was three-quarters of the way to the top, she paused on a ledge, then slipped through an opening in the wall. Inside was an empty hallway, and on the other side, a staircase. ¡®Take it to the top,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®And you¡¯ll find Brann?l.¡¯ Chapter 19: Meeting the Family [Volume 4] Vayra ascended the staircase as quickly as she dared, maintaining her veil and keeping her footsteps light. It snaked back and forth through the center of the tower, winding through a dark corridor, and she pulled her scarf out to light the way a little more. She bunched it up in her hand and held it out ahead of her, letting the stars light the way. A patrolling guard marched down in the opposite direction. She heard his footsteps well before she saw him. As soon as she could, she stopped at a landing and ducked into the corner, hiding in the darkness there. She tucked her scarf behind her back to hide its light. The guard, a sleepy Commodore, strolled past. Like the other wind-Path God-heirs, he carried a wooden staff. Brann?l¡¯s guards wore sky-blue coats and cloaks, and the plume on their shako caps constantly fluttered in an invisible breeze. Once the guard had passed, Vayra continued up the stairs. She took them two at a time. No matter how stealthy, she was getting close to the Goddess¡¯ chambers, and her veil wouldn¡¯t do much. She had to be fast enough to engage the conversation without setting off alarms or getting into a fight. The higher she climbed, the heavier the spiritual weight of Brann?l became. The tingling in her neck was normal for this place; it had a greater range than the presence of the gods. But the pressure wasn¡¯t. At first, it was like someone was pressing down on her shoulders. Then like someone had grabbed her core and started pulling on it. Then like gravity had doubled. When she reached the top of the stairs, she passed through an empty gate and arrived at a two-storey tall open-air penthouse. The walls were made of swirling, ornamented grates, which let the winds blow through freely¡ªand so high up, there were plenty of winds to blow through. There were no interior walls, just a few supporting pillars, and the ground had been modelled in a natural style. It was probably meant to resemble a natural spring, with craggy layers of shale forming mounds and dipping toward a central pond. A few brushstrokes of green moss grew on the rocks, and a tree overhang the pond, shading it from the faintly glowing yellow orbs suspended from the roof. ¡®Announce yourself,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®It¡¯s now or never.¡¯ Vayra gritted her teeth. No way Brann?l didn¡¯t sense them. But, to keep herself from backing down, she unveiled her core and activated the Astral Shroud. The Wind Goddess would sense that. ¡°Brann?l!¡± Vayra yelled. ¡°I¡¯ve come to talk! Reveal yourself!¡± ¡®Not the phrasing I would¡¯ve used¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®But it¡¯ll work.¡¯ ¡°I can¡¯t say I was expecting you to come right to me,¡± came a breathy voice from the opposite of the side of the room, like a middle-aged woman was trying to speak through a flute¡ªbut without any melody. ¡°Especially when I just tried to kill you.¡± ¡®At least she¡¯s not dodging the point,¡¯ Phason¨¦ muttered. ¡°Is my daughter there? Does she wish to speak with me?¡± A woman stood up from behind a desk on the opposite side of the room, a desk nestled into the far corner, with stacks of parchment notes and stone paperweights. An open inkwell and quill rested beside it, and a half-finished letter sat in the middle of the table. Hoisting a filagree-gilded staff from behind her chair, she circled around to the front of the table. She wore a pale blue dress with golden embroidery, but it was less formal¡ªno corset, no jewelry, just a comfortable, relaxing attire. Her hair streamed down her back, swaying in the breeze. Well, a breeze. It blew in the opposite direction of the outside air, and Vayra couldn¡¯t feel it. ¡°I have many correspondences and letters to send, and they¡¯re trying to open up a new school for the wind-arts on Fane Hen Sees, so be quick,¡± Brann?l said. She sneered, then shook her head and turned her back. ¡°You didn¡¯t exactly appear before me in formal attire, nor a¡­professional manner. If I chose to, I could mark this as an insult.¡± Vayra immediately scrunched her face. She thought Brann?l would appear younger, perhaps in her early thirties, as an ageless god would. But instead, she looked to be in her mid-forties¡ªby mortal standards. ¡®Gods can craft their appearance as they please when they ascend,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Mother chose to appear wise and aged.¡¯ ¡°You won¡¯t try to have us killed again,¡± Vayra stated, her voice a little shaky. ¡°If you know what¡¯s good for you, you won¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have a say in the matter. I am a Goddess. I have sailed the galaxy for a thousand years before your time. I¡¯ve carved out an existence in the lower and upper realms alike, and I¡¯ve faced monsters you couldn¡¯t even comprehend. What say do you have in the matters of gods?¡± A swirl of wind rose up around her staff, encircling it and protecting it. She was preparing to attack. ¡°Can we dodge that?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®With the Astral Shroud? Perhaps. I don¡¯t want to find out.¡¯ Before Vayra could reply¡ªeither with words or by sending a thought in her mind¡ªPhason¨¦ manifested in front of them. For good measure, Vayra clasped Phason¨¦¡¯s wrist and fed her a dreg of the mana they had left. Phason¨¦ would stand a better chance at blocking an attack from a Goddess than Vayra would. ¡°Mother,¡± Phason¨¦ said. She paused for a few seconds, and Vayra sensed indecision through their bond. Phason¨¦ contemplated kneeling, but shot the thoughts down. ¡°You can¡¯t kill us yourself, not without it reflecting poorly upon your strength and honour. If you keep sending assassins, we will keep killing them.¡± Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°And we will remember who sent them,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Are you so confident that Karmion will defeat us? And once we destroy him, we will deal with the rest of the gods.¡± She recalled what Glade had told her about Harvest Sanctuary, and the meddling in the fabric of the world itself. ¡°And once Karmion is gone, we will force the rest of the Gods to rise back to the realms above, where they belong,¡± Vayra asserted, trying her best to purge the nerves from her mind. ¡°Our realms will remain separate. But we cannot willingly allow a¡­harmful Goddess to remain alive.¡± ¡°And if you keep this up,¡± Phason¨¦ added, ¡°we will consider you harmful to all life. We will not give you a chance to return and finish what Karmion started.¡± Brann?l cast a glance over her shoulder, and for the first time that conversation, Vayra thought the Goddess looked mildly nervous. ¡°You think you can defeat Karmion? Your end is drawing near, and the hour is late. You may be a Commodore, but the moment you reach Grand Admiral, he will pounce and erase you from this world. And if you don¡¯t keep advancing, you¡¯ll never succeed in the tournament.¡± Brann?l shook her head. ¡°Silly children. You¡¯ve trapped yourselves in a corner. You may be strong, but Mediators have always lacked the experience, the strategic prowess of gods.¡± Vayra swallowed. ¡°Is that a risk you¡¯re willing to take?¡± ¡°Mother, we will defeat Karmion,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°And what then?¡± ¡°You put too much faith in yourself,¡± Brann?l said. ¡°You will face him before you leave this planet, and you will not succeed.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You¡¯d treat your own daughter this way?¡± Vayra took a step forward, but with the help of the Astral Shroud, it launched her across the room¡ªonly a few paces away from the Wind Goddess. Brann?l stopped mid-step and turned to face Vayra. She wiped a glimmer of astonishment from her face. ¡°I have plenty to spare. I have had hundreds over the many years of my life. This one has been a constant irritant, a blemish on the family, and her swift death would restore our honour. I don¡¯t wish for her suffering, but¡­I will not suffer remorse over her passing.¡± ¡°Cold as ever,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Know this, Mother: we stand a chance against Karmion, no matter how slim. Whatever happens, you could come out with your life. But if you keep attacking us, and we win? We¡¯ll come for you next. All those thousands of years, gone. All your follower sects? Crumbled. Ash. And when our time is up, when I return to the heavens and Vayra ascends to realms beyond, we will erase any evidence of your existence from the heavens as well.¡± Vayra liked the sound of that. After a few seconds of pursing her lips and scowling, Brann?l deactivated her staff technique and set the weapon down beside her desk. ¡°I¡¯ll consider. Now get out of my sight.¡± Myrrir sneaked into his father¡¯s tower from below, slipping through access tunnels and maintenance hallways before pushing through a hatch in the tower¡¯s basement. At the very center of the spire, a spiral staircase wound up toward the sky, so tall that the walls condensed to a single point so high above. As a Captain, a peak Captain, the fall wouldn¡¯t kill him, but such a distance still gave him vertigo. But if he wanted to make it before the sun rose, he¡¯d have to start. One foot after another. Get climbing. As he climbed, he had plenty of time to think about what he¡¯d say to his father. An angry admonishment? Would he shout and tell his father everything on his mind, list off all the perceived inconveniences and injustices, all the times his father had forgotten all his successes at the first whispers of failure? But he¡¯d failed a lot lately. That wouldn¡¯t hold up under scrutiny. Maybe keeping calm, simply asking to be re-recognized and reinstated as a prominent figure of the family, would go over better. Didn¡¯t feel right either. When he reached the top of the stairs, he had nothing, but he wasn¡¯t backing down now. He emerged in a sandstone hall with a high ceiling and gloomy rafters. Pirate flags hung from the rafters, still and unmoving, and a few braziers flickered in the wings, illuminating what they could. There were no windows. ¡°Father,¡± Myrrir said softly, announcing himself. Nilsenir sat at the end of the hall. He was speaking softly with a servant¡ªeven so late at night, but a God barely needed any sleep at all. Halfway through instructing the servant, he dismissed the man with a flick of his hand, then turned back toward Myrrir. ¡°Why are you here?¡± His coat still fluttered, and he tapped his hook-hand on the armrest of the wooden throne at the end of the hall. ¡°I have not released you from exile. I could have you arrested right this moment.¡± ¡°I¡¯d resist.¡± Myrrir laid his hand on the jade sword at his hip. Immediately, his mind flashed to the Moro-ka village and Tye, but he crammed those thoughts down. ¡°Father, I wish to be forgiven.¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t done enough. Leave me. Bring the Mediator back, maybe, and perhaps Karmion will honour our old arrangement, though I think that time has passed long ago. She¡¯s advancing fast. She¡¯s stronger than you, now.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve regressed, but I can put myself back.¡± He¡¯d sustained damage to his channels and core in a fight with Nathariel, and he¡¯d lost Arcara, but he¡¯d recovered it since. Myrrir remembered his Commodore revelation clearly: I am not satisfied. It was one of the easiest revelations he¡¯d ever had. ¡°Put yourself back for my amusement,¡± Nilsenir said plainly. ¡°You¡¯ll get nothing out of it, but if you don¡¯t do it, it¡¯ll be shameful.¡± Myrrir could¡¯ve put himself back any time these past few days, but secretly, he told himself, he wanted to do it in front of his father¡ªor in a way his father would notice. He knelt on the ground and whispered, ¡°I am not satisfied.¡± It had worked before. He¡¯d never be satisfied until he was a God, and he¡¯d keep striving forever. It was supposed to be a ¡®revelation,¡¯ but he¡¯d known himself well, and he¡¯d known that it would be an effective revelation for years before reaching Commodore. But nothing happened. Nilsenir laughed, then dropped himself down on his throne and shook his head. ¡°Get out of my sight, boy.¡± It wasn¡¯t true anymore. It wasn¡¯t that Myrrir had suddenly become satisfied, but he was unsatisfied for different reasons. He looked up at his father, the man laughing at him. Should Nilsenir not have been there to offer support, suggestions, or a helping hand of any sort? But he never had been. It didn¡¯t feel right anymore. None of this did. ¡°I am not satisfied¡­¡± he tried again. Not satisfied with this existence. With this method, with this strategy, with¡­everything. I am not satisfied with what I¡¯ve done. Myrrir¡¯s soul and core resonated properly, once more responding to the revelation, but Nilsenir cut him off. ¡°Fumbling your revelation, taking two attempts? Your soul is shattered. Weak. Leave me, and do not look at me again¡ªnot until you¡¯ve done anything to warrant another meeting.¡± ¡°But when will I know¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯ll know. Winning a fight isn¡¯t impressive. Getting yourself back to where you were before isn¡¯t impressive, let alone this. Leave me.¡± Chapter 20: Attunement [Volume 4] ¡°Remember, Vayra, you¡¯re a Commodore now,¡± said Nathariel, standing beside her as she prepared to step out the gates and into the arena. King Tallerion¡¯s aide stood a few steps behind, as well as a few Redmarines. It was time for her next fight, and she couldn¡¯t be late. ¡°You have enhanced spiritual senses,¡± Natharield continued. ¡°They¡¯re there, and you can trust them, aye?¡± ¡°If only saying it made it so,¡± Vayra said. ¡°It was easier when it was Phason¨¦ telling me what to do.¡± ¡®I still can, but at this stage of combat, me telling you won¡¯t be fast enough, and even then, I can¡¯t be precise enough,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Yelling ¡®duck¡¯ inside your head won¡¯t do much for you beyond getting you to duck. If there¡¯s a musket shot coming for your right flank and you need to move an inch to the left, you won¡¯t have time. You¡¯ll need to sense it yourself.¡¯ ¡°You helped me dodge cannonballs.¡± ¡®Correction: I anticipated where the cannonball would strike and I told you how to stay away from it.¡¯ Vayra sighed. ¡°Alright. I don¡¯t have much time. I¡¯ll try my best to rely on my senses, but¡­¡± It didn¡¯t feel perfectly natural yet. It didn¡¯t feel perfectly natural at all. Her mind could tell her things, sure, but her senses didn¡¯t feel like they were coming from her, not like it did with her eyes or ears or even the touch at the tips of her fingers. ¡°Then force yourself to rely on them,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Shut your eyes. Plug your ears. If you let it be, this sixth sense of the God-heirs can be your most powerful ally.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t just¡­limit myself like that!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°It would be incredibly unwise to stake the fate of the Velaydian Kingdom on an experiment!¡± the aide exclaimed, stepping closer. The Redmarines took a few steps forward, too, matching the aide¡¯s steps. ¡°Is there no better time to practice?¡± ¡°If you want her to keep winning?¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°She would be wise to advance her spiritual senses, and learn to trust them now.¡± Vayra swallowed, but her mouth was dry. ¡°I¡­¡± But Nathariel had never led her astray before, so why would he do so now? It would be a challenge, but it was better to do it now rather than later in the tournament. And he was right. She needed to master her powers quickly. She pulled her scarf off her neck and wrapped it around her eyes, then over her ears, keeping the pointed tips plastered to her head and blocking out most sounds. The starry fresco remained a window into space, and she couldn¡¯t see past it. Whenever she took a step, the fabric let off a starry tinkle, like windchimes, and she could barely hear Nathariel when he said, ¡°The gates are opening. Get out there and win.¡± ¡°No, wait,¡± the aide said. ¡°This is a mistake. Don¡¯t do it. You can¡¯t win like this. Don¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Vayra said, barely hearing her own voice. ¡°But I need to do this.¡± She tried to sense the doors opening, but she couldn¡¯t. So far, she¡¯d only sensed something when it was a true danger to her¡ªlike Narril¨¦¡¯s staff. Well¡­only the staff. Since the assassination attempt and since she¡¯d visited Brann?l, she hadn¡¯t had a chance to properly use her spiritual senses. She¡¯d tried, of course, but nothing seemed to work. But she knew the gates were ahead, and that all she had to do was walk straight out. She reached up, patting her shoulder and feeling for Adair. He was still there, still holding on. She felt the heat of the sunlight on her face when she stepped out into it, but the starry fabric blocked everything else. The crowd had already been cheering, and she could still hear it through the fabric¡ªunless she purposely deafened herself, there was no way she wouldn¡¯t hear that. Karmion announced the fighters, but above the din of the crowd and with her scarf around her head, she couldn¡¯t hear it. There¡¯d be no hint at who her opponent was until she actually faced them. A trumpet blast signalled the start of the fight, but it was barely a hum. Vayra summoned her scythe, drawing on the starlight from her blindfold. She presumed there was a gap in space, a tear where she could draw out starlight and form techniques out of. It posed no threat to her; she couldn¡¯t sense it. The air to her right fluttered and whooshed, and vibrations ran through the sand. An echo blared out in her spiritual senses, signalling a sharp object thrusting toward her, but she couldn¡¯t pinpoint it. She leapt back, sliding along the sand, and widened her stance. She analyzed the weight ahead of her, a directed tingle and pressure pressing back on her soul. It was about the same strength as hers: her opponent was a Commodore as well. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The same sensation filled her, and she tried to focus in on it, but it was still only a wave of threat, not a pinpoint of direction. It wasn¡¯t like her eyes¡ªshe wasn¡¯t able to look at it and tell exactly where it was about to strike. Swiping her scythe in front of her, she made a swirl of white light, deflecting whatever was racing at her. It made a metallic impact halfway around the circle. She activated the Astral Shroud and ducked to the side, relying on its speed to launch herself. Her spirit shouted out in warning, but she didn¡¯t react to it fast enough. She could¡¯ve, but she didn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t as real, as present, as her other senses. A blunt impact struck her in the forehead, and she recoiled back. She flew off her feet and skidded along the sand. Her heart thrummed, her hands trembled, and it took all her effort to maintain a proper cycling pattern. She darted to the left. It didn¡¯t matter whether there was something to evade or not; she just needed to keep moving. A bang ripped through the air, passing through her ear coverings, and something within her cried out in warning. Phason¨¦ yelled, and a tingle prickled the back of her neck. She visualized a model of her surroundings without the help of her eyes. And just in time for the Astral Shroud to carry her out of the way of the blast. Her opponent was using a musket. It would explain the bayonet, the spear-like attacks, but also a ranged attack. But her perception of it hadn¡¯t displayed as cohesive of a shot¡ªrather, a beam. Almost like when she funnelled starlight through her pistol. ¡®It¡¯s Jarril Nell Varreson,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He uses a musket, and he¡¯s on a sun-Path.¡¯ Again, Vayra¡¯s senses panicked, and again, she hesitated. The beam blasted past her upper arm, tearing off the upper layer of skin. The concentrated sunlight might have burnt a regular human, but her phoenix flesh was resistant to heat. And apparently, increasingly so, if it could resist sunlight. As a regular mortal, she doubted she¡¯d have been able to survive a fall into a star, but now? ¡®Not the time to worry about this!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡®Duck!¡¯ Three more pinpricks of warning seared toward her. She bent to the side. One grazed past her back, charring her robe and leaving a thin slice along the surface of her skin. She gritted her teeth, preparing to run and target the source of the blasts, when a fourth warning flared up in the back of her mind. A cold opal-steel alloy blade pressed up against her neck, leaving a slight gash, and she immediately deactivated her techniques, surrendering. If this Jarril fellow chose, he could kill them. She could keep fighting. Maybe she had to. But her spirit hadn¡¯t cried out in warning as loud. It hadn¡¯t been as deadly of a threat; he hadn¡¯t swung the bayonet with as much intent. A few seconds passed. He pulled the bayonet away, counting him as the winner of the first round, and they both retreated to opposite sides of the arena. Vayra pulled her blindfold up, searching for her gate, and for Nathariel and the aide. She marched back across the arena and faced them. ¡°I can¡¯t do it,¡± she whispered to Nathariel. ¡°If I lose the next round, I¡¯ll be out. It¡¯ll just be Glade, and I can¡¯t clear the way for him.¡± Nathariel put his hands on his hips. ¡°All the more reason to keep pushing yourself.¡± ¡°This is folly!¡± the aide hissed. ¡°King Tallerion demands that you fight with your utmost effort, lest you ridicule the kingdom!¡± ¡°Noted,¡± Nathariel said, flipping his hand dismissively. ¡°Vayra, you now have all the impetus you need. God-heirs often advance in the heat of battle, and this is no different. Do you know why?¡± ¡°The stress, the internal need to win, is enough to push them over the edge. This is the same for you. Force yourself to win.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. None of her advantages mattered. The Mediator Form wouldn¡¯t help her perceive her surroundings, nor would Adair¡¯s cat-like instincts. All that would matter was raw determination. Over the next half hour between rounds, she refilled her mana with a vat of Stream water, then fixed her blindfold and fastened it to her face. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± She walked out to the center of the arena a half-minute before the next round started. ¡®Remember, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, ¡®As they advance, God-heirs begin to perceive everything as a threat. Even the simplest action could have massive political ramifications. Even the slightest dishonour could mean something. A look the wrong way? They¡¯re coming for you, trying to usurp your standing in the family. God-heirs have no friends, only threats. It makes harnessing your perceptions much easier.¡¯ Vayra swallowed. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡®I¡¯m not saying you have to do the same. But perceive your targets as a threat. Know your hazards. Know what could go wrong.¡¯ Vayra tried to imagine Jerril. He was walking across the arena now. But she could only imagine his musket, and at that, it only left a faint weight in the air, something pushing and manipulating the tingling sensation in her neck. Then the next trumpet blast flared. She conjured her scythe, and when Jarril jabbed with her musket, she pinpointed where it would strike next. She was only a little too slow to react to the information, and instead of deflecting the bayonet blade, she deflected the barrel of the musket after the tip of the blade nicked her chest. ¡®Close. Trust your senses, Vayra. They are as natural as your sight or your hearing, and they won¡¯t lead you astray.¡¯ Adair couldn¡¯t help her reaction speed. It wasn¡¯t an inability. It was a subconscious unwillingness. But when she jumped between rooftops, she had a knowledge of her surroundings in her mind. When someone was following her, or looking at her, she got the same sense. It was the same thing. As her other senses advanced, so did her sixth. She ducked under a jab and fell onto her back, then pressed her hands down on the sand, and truly registered it. The sand? If she breathed it in, it could harm her. The moat at the edge of the arena? A drowning hazard, if she was unable to swim. Jarril¡¯s musket wasn¡¯t the only threat. He could hit her, he could kick her. He was standing in her way, and if she didn¡¯t find out were he was, she would lose. Her senses expanded, and a model of her surroundings grew. It encapsulated the whole arena, up to the edge of the moat. At the center, she could picture Jarril clearly, swinging his musket and aiming a finishing jab with the bayonet. Chapter 21: The Sixth Sense [Volume 4] With a sharp inhale, Vayra sidestepped. Almost instant. Almost like she was reacting to something she was seeing, with only milliseconds of delay. The bayonet whistled past her harmlessly. She swatted the rifle down with a swipe of her scythe. Even without her sight, she could picture her opponent ahead of her clearly. She struck him in the back of the leg with the haft of her scythe, keeping him close, then evaded a blast of sunlight-Arcara. They traded blows for a few seconds. Vayra blocked and countered every strike, picturing where it would land, and each time, the delay between her registering the strike and acting on it shrank. Whirling around Jarril¡¯s back, she held her scythe at his throat, hooked blade pointing toward herself. Jarril immediately ended his techniques and surrendered. Secretly, Vayra had been hoping that he¡¯d keep fighting and force her to continue, to end the fight quickly, so she wouldn¡¯t have to do it again, but she still accepted the minor victory. Besides, Jarril¡¯s life was still a life. If he chose to surrender, she couldn¡¯t just kill him on the spot¡ªno matter how easy it¡¯d make things. But that meant she had one more round to practice. She accepted the break, refilled her mana, and bore the scolding of King Tallerion¡¯s aide. And when the next fight began, she kept her blindfold on. It was now or never. ¡®No hesitation, this time,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®If Jarril was underestimating us before, he won¡¯t be, now. We need to use everything we have.¡¯ ¡°I can¡¯t just develop trust for my senses, for my sixth sense, in a matter of an hour¡­¡± Vayra whispered as she approached the center of the arena. ¡°There has to be more to it than that.¡± ¡®There is, and it¡¯s called practice.¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re being contradictory. I don¡¯t have time to practice.¡± ¡®But you already have. You¡¯ve had me in your head for months. My senses haven¡¯t led you astray, so yours won¡¯t either.¡¯ She had a point. Vayra just didn¡¯t know what to do with it. ¡®What to do with it? Win.¡¯ The last trumpet blast blared, and the third round began. She let Jarril attack first, alerting her to his presence and identifying where he was in her perception of the arena. He attacked from a distance, retreating back across the sandy pit. Through his presence of looming danger, she picked him out and placed him exactly in her mental image. He pointed his musket and launched a beam of sunlight-Arcara across the arena at her. It seared across the sand, turning it to glass as it approached, and she conjured a Ward to block it. He kept his distance, circling the edge of the arena. If she couldn¡¯t get close, he¡¯d wear down her Arcara and pick her off. She activated the Astral Shroud and leapt across the arena. If push came to shove, she could use her Mediator Form, but there was no sense in draining her Arcara if she didn¡¯t have to. She couldn''t take a straight line across the arena. Jarril crouched, pointed his musket, and fired a continuous blast. It''d drain his mana, but he could sweep across the entire arena. He was getting desperate. She ducked and slid under the beam''s main blast, emerging on the other side, but he swept back the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he could chase her. But it left a steady warning in her mind, and she knew exactly where it was. Every time she dipped under it and used the Astral Shroud to navigate the beam, she made it a few steps closer. Then he cut off his attack. He went silent in her perception for a few seconds. Had he surrendered on the spot, ensuring that he no longer posed any threat to her, thus dropping out of her perception? A heartbeat later, he appeared again as a wave of threat. He was charging, bayonet held straight ahead, and joining her in close-quarters fighting. ¡®He¡¯s going out with a bang.¡¯ Vayra reached up and ran her hand down the back of Adair, drawing on his abilities to bolster her own fighting strength. It might not help her trust her sixth sense, but it would help her reaction speeds once she registered the necessity. They exchanged a set of blows at close-range, Jarril jabbing with his bayonet and Vayra whirling her scythe to deflect. He¡¯d used a large portion of his mana, but he still must have been using a Bracing technique, because he was much faster than a regular man would¡¯ve been. But not faster than her. She dispelled her scythe, and darted around to his back, delivering a Starlight Palm. He whirled to face her, and the impression of him spun as well, like a vortex in the forefront of her mind. She unleashed a pulse of white light into his knee, then sprang up and struck his forehead. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Too late did she register his musket whirling back around to slice at her chest¡ªtoo late to avoid it completely. The tip of the bayonet left a faint cut, but it¡¯d heal in a matter of hours. But he was reeling. He hadn¡¯t expected her to dodge. As soon as it passed, she drew her pistol and conjured a blast of Starlight-Arcara. It surged into the side of his musket and flung it from his grasp. Before he could slink away, she sprinted up to his side and pointed her pistol at the side of his head. He lowered his arms, cut off his techniques, and stopped cycling Arcara. Vayra ripped off her blindfold. A weight lifted off her shoulders and her heartbeat slowed, and she lowered her arms. ¡®Good work,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. Vayra breathed, ¡°Thanks,¡± then bowed her head to Jarril and backed away. He could¡¯ve taken her life at the first chance he had available, but he¡¯d fought honourably, and even now, he faced the crowd with his head high. She tilted her head and said, ¡°Why¡¯d you do it?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± he asked. He had long blonde hair that glinted in the sun, and he wore a sleeveless, tight tunic with no armour. ¡°You could¡¯ve killed me. You¡¯d have been a hero.¡± ¡°Mediator,¡± he said, ¡°I did not deem it appropriate, not after you saved my brother¡¯s life.¡± ¡°Saved¡­?¡± ¡°He was a prisoner of that rogue water-Path God-heir, taken for experimentation.¡± Jarril clasped both of his hands and bowed to her. ¡°Good luck, Mediator. You will need it.¡± When Vayra returned to the top of the Velaydian tower, to the main outlook, King Tallerion was furious. ¡°You jeopardized the future of the entire star-nation on¡­on this? You could¡¯ve embarrassed us all!¡± He paced back and forth in front of her, holding a cane. With every step he took, it clacked on the ground. ¡°If you had lost, the Velaydian Kingdom would¡¯ve looked as weak as¡­as some backwater planet on the Line of Battle!¡± Vayra dipped her head respectfully. King Tallerion hadn¡¯t ever been this¡­upset, or un-composed, before. But there was a lot riding on this tournament; she couldn¡¯t deny that. ¡°Apologies, your majesty,¡± she said. Two Redmarines stood behind her, their muskets cocked. ¡°But¡­in my defence, you now look much stronger. One of your representatives just beat a God-heir blindfolded. And I¡­uh, learned something new?¡± Nathariel and Glade both stood off to the side. Glade¡¯s face was illegible, but Nathariel had a casual smirk. King Tallerion sighed. ¡°I understand, however, I would ask you to not do that again.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Vayra said, dipping her head. As soon as the king dismissed them, she and Glade ran to the railing at the front of the chamber and looked out over the arena below, where a different fight was taking place. Myrrir fought a young man on a water-based Path, and he was winning¡ªagain, with ease. ¡°At least he hasn¡¯t blindfolded himself?¡± Glade said. Vayra snorted, then said, ¡°It worked out fine.¡± ¡°I know.¡± A smile slipped onto Glade¡¯s face. ¡°Which is why I am going to do it, too.¡± Vayra grinned. ¡°King Tallerion¡¯s gonna hate us.¡± It was evening when Glade¡¯s fight began, and Vayra was watching from the top of King Tallerion¡¯s tower, still. Nathariel had gone down to offer Glade some direct advice and feedback, and Vayra could imagine the aide throwing down his eyes and groaning with exasperation as Glade blindfolded himself. Karmion announced Glade¡¯s opponent first: ¡°Barrala Nee Arlynton, on the Path of the Ichor Forge.¡± A hulking half-orc strode back and forth on the field, wielding a heaving golden hammer¡ªlike an upscaled blacksmith¡¯s hammer. A circlet of golden runes orbited her head, and her black hair streamed nearly halfway down her back in a braid. With her free hand, she pounded the chest of her dragoon¡¯s cuirass and hollered something in a foreign language. ¡°Pleasant company,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡®Theatrics?¡¯ Phason¨¦ supplied jokingly. ¡°Or she¡¯s just mean. We¡¯ll see how it goes when she gets slapped around by a blindfolded man with low spirit potential.¡± ¡®It¡¯ll catch up to him one day,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Hopefully, once we get the godly authority into him.¡± ¡®Hopefully.¡¯ The first fight went about as well as Vayra expected: not well. Much like her own first round, it took adjusting to. King Tallerion said nothing, but he approached the railing and let out a long sigh. ¡°I should have known better than to put my faith in two¡­barely twenty-year-old wizards.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Vayra said. ¡°But he¡¯ll win.¡± ¡°You¡¯re certain?¡± The second round, Glade moved sluggishly and cautiously at first, like a blind man feeling out his surroundings, but halfway through, something clicked. He held his head up high, just like she had, and suddenly, his movements turned precise. He blocked with certainty, he dodged heavy hammer blows, and he whirled his sword. ¡°You have an invitation,¡± King Tallerion said. ¡°You and Mr. Arvitir both.¡± ¡°From you?¡± ¡°A messenger brought it up to the tower,¡± he said. ¡°From a group of God-heirs. They¡¯re meeting at a tavern in-town. A late-night party, it seems.¡± ¡°And you got¡­this?¡± ¡°It was delivered to the tower, unsigned, unmarked. They assumed it was for me.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Vayr kept her gaze fixed on the two fighters. Glade now had the upper hand, swerving and dancing around his opponent. He made light cuts and tried to force her surrender, but she wasn¡¯t having it. She swung more and more desperately, and when Glade finally pressed his sword up against her neck, she raised her hammer one last time, preparing a final blow. Glade¡¯s projection, the sunlight-strand hologram, made a grimace, then drove his blade through her neck. ¡°You should attend,¡± said King Tallerion, continuing the conversation from before. ¡°You will need friends here before long.¡± ¡°It could be a trap,¡± she said. ¡°But I don¡¯t suppose that¡¯s stopped us before.¡± Chapter 22: The Continental [Volume 3] The sun had set and a pink-orange glow of planetlight settled on Shatterport. Orange highlighted the edges of buildings and reflected off the windows. It was like Vayra was looking through a sheet of amber. It was still dark, of course, but brighter than most moonlight-bathed cities she was used to. ¡°We¡¯re¡­looking for the Grand Continental Inn, right?¡± Vayra said. They marched straight down the main street, dodging wagons and street peddlers. A patrol of bluecoats marched in the opposite direction, and city guards in their blue-jade armour lined the edges of the streets. Clotheslines hung overhead, swaying in the breeze and casting fluttering shadows over the street. ¡°It should not be hard to find,¡± Glade commented, keeping pace beside her. ¡°It is¡­the fanciest Inn on the planet.¡± ¡°Not exactly a tavern party,¡± Vayra grumbled. ¡°I thought it was supposed to be subtle.¡± ¡°It means there¡¯ll be plenty of people to blend in with,¡± Nathariel said, walking a few paces behind. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of money flowing around here with all the God-heirs, and it needs to go somewhere. Chances are, they booked out an entire event room or two in the Inn. You¡¯re lucky to have received an invite.¡± Vayra scrunched her lips up. ¡°Sure, sure, so¡­what are we expected to do?¡± ¡°Make friends,¡± Natharield said. Both she and Glade looked over their shoulders at him. ¡°Aye, you heard me. You¡¯ve earned some respect, and your names are travelling around now. And now, they¡¯ll just be hearing about the stunt you two pulled with the blindfolds. Velaydian or not, you¡¯ll have people¡¯s attention. Show them that you¡¯re not the worst people in the galaxy.¡± That made enough sense. At least for now. They rounded a corner and emerged in a broad plaza. Clean, four-storey tall buildings of white marble clung to the edges, their windows burning with torchlight, and lanterns hung from streetlights, amplifying the orange planetlight. On the opposite side of the plaza was a hulking, sprawling structure with domed roofs and flag-bearing spires. It was twice as tall as its surroundings, and as wide as the plaza itself. Windows dotted its exterior walls, each a guest room of its own. The Continental Inn. ¡°Where will you be, then?¡± Glade asked Nathariel. ¡°If this¡­meeting¡±¡ªhe said meeting like he was asking a question¡ª¡°is for the tournament contestants only.¡± ¡°I will stay nearby. If there is trouble, I will come to help,¡± he said. ¡°Though, now that many of the contestants have advanced to Commodore, my help might not be as impactful as it once was.¡± Vayra heaved a sigh. ¡°Well, it seems legit. If not, we can run.¡± She nudged Glade. ¡°Your swordwyrm ready to fly?¡± ¡°Ready as ever.¡± The blade, hovering just over his shoulder, spun in a circle and let out a metallic chitter. ¡°Right, I¡¯ll take that as a yes¡­¡± Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Can it understand me?¡± ¡°I think so,¡± Glade replied. ¡°It seems to understand me, though it really does not speak much.¡± ¡°I guess¡­best that you don¡¯t have a talking sword in a fancy party?¡± She shrugged. They were almost at the front gate of the inn, and everyone around wore fancier, cleaner clothes. Colourful coats, hats with massive plumes, and elegant dresses. They were heading to the inn as well, though she doubted many of them were truly God-heirs. They didn¡¯t radiate any spiritual pressure. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be this fancy. Someone should¡¯ve said something, told her what to expect. Who? Dunno. She patted herself down. Her new robes were still relatively clean, if only a little tattered after a few fights, and hopefully she wouldn¡¯t stick out too badly. Her mechanical arm would draw the most attention, but even with sleeves, it would¡¯ve been hard to hide. ¡°Just maintain a steady cycling pattern, and keep your wits about you, aye?¡± Nathariel said, peeling away from them. ¡°Don¡¯t drink anything without first analyzing it in your spiritual senses. I doubt you¡¯ll find poisons that can harm your bodies at this stage, but if someone slips a spiritual ailment in your drink, you¡¯ll want to know about it.¡± He took a few steps away and disappeared into the crowd. ¡°You¡¯ll do great.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. He raised a hand over the heads of the crowd and delivered a thumbs-up before slipping away entirely. They arrived at the main gate of the inn. It wasn¡¯t really a door; a raised portcullis awaited them, and two broad wooden doors yawned open behind. A cluster of armoured city guards waited on either side, as well as inn staff in vibrant green coats. They were all mortals, but they held lists of parchment, and guests approached to check their names off. Vayra and Glade approached the nearest man with a parchment list. ¡°Are we¡­on there?¡± ¡°God-heirs?¡± The man looked up, tilting the brim of his tricorn hat up. ¡°Oh! The¡­Velaydians.¡± He glanced at a different worker, then back at Vayra and Glade. ¡°Apologies, you were on the list. Please¡­uh, enter.¡± He swallowed nervously, then glanced at a different worker and whispered, ¡°Who¡­who pays the tab if they cause damage? We can¡¯t bill their king, can we?¡± ¡°Just let them in!¡± the other worker whispered. ¡°She¡¯s¡­she¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say it!¡± a different worker hissed. ¡°She¡¯s just a God-heir, and that¡¯s all.¡± Blinking in confusion, Vayra took a few cautious steps past the mortal workers, entering the inn. They stepped into a main foyer. It was a massive hall at the front of the building, with varnished wood walls and marble pillars. Gargoyles clung to the capitals and carved vines wrapped around their bases. A chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, illuminating the murals and paintings on the ceiling. They had to be older than eighty years, older than the Elderworlds themselves, because they depicted armies of Redmarines battling dark fiends and a figure cast in golden light, using a technique that looked suspiciously like a Mediator Form. A casing of golden light enveloped him, but it outlined a completely different person, forming a wireframe cage just slightly overtop his skin. Vayra and Glade prowled through the crowd, pushing toward the center of the room. Inside, it wasn¡¯t nearly as crowded, and she sensed a powerful presence from most of the others¡ªthey were either Captains or Commodores. Mortal workers slipped between them, carrying trays. Most carried crystal glasses overflowing with wines¡ªin fact, probably spirit-wines, weak elixirs, based on how they glowed in Vayra¡¯s spiritual vision¡ªbut some also carried trays of appetizers and foreign foods. Buns, pastries, seafood, foreign squids and nests of noodles that she couldn¡¯t even hope to identify, and so on. When they reached the center of the room, she glanced at Glade and said, ¡°What was that? With the doormen?¡± ¡°They did not want to acknowledge you as the Mediator,¡± he replied, speaking softly despite the chatter of the crowd. She could barely hear him. ¡°B¡ªbut they have to know!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°Most do. They have heard the tales and legends. Some fear you¡ªthat would be a product of Karmion¡¯s news campaigns, I imagine, and possibly due to the stories he has writers put out in the realm of fiction¡ªand some are neutral. There may also be those who secretly hope for your success, or simply for a radical change in the systems that have dominated their lives.¡± ¡°Then¡­why don¡¯t they say?¡± ¡°For eight decades, Karmion has pretended that the Mediator no longer exists, and that the Stream has forsaken them. For a Mediator to return? It has started to unravel all his lies. But it is still a crime to mention the Mediator in a positive light, or to publicly acknowledge that one exists. If you aren¡¯t fined into poverty immediately, you will be jailed for a short period. Your friends will forsake you for fear of associating with such a person, and your employers will shun you.¡± She shut her eyes, suddenly pitying the workers. She¡¯d almost ruined their lives just with her presence. ¡°How¡­¡± ¡°Tyranny is built on isolation. Karmion wants everyone to think they¡¯re alone, that there is no one they can trust. God-heirs are naturals at it; they have been doing it their whole lives.¡± She swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. ¡°Right, then¡­¡± She didn¡¯t want to think about that. ¡°We need to get busy. See if there¡¯s anyone around who¡¯s kinda friendly to us.¡± On the far side of the foyer, a small orchestra began to play a quick, upbeat tune. Vayra stretched up to her tip-toes to see around. On either side of the orchestra was a doorway. One led to the inn¡¯s main event room¡ªwhich had been converted to a ballroom¡ªand the other to an expansive restaurant-turned-tavern (for the evening, at least). ¡°If this is what they meant by tavern¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°I think someone was messing with us,¡± Glade replied softly. ¡°They wanted us to arrive in too casual of a manner.¡± ¡®As usual,¡¯ Phason¨¦ chimed in. ¡°Well, we¡¯re here now, so¡ª¡± ¡°Glade!¡± someone exclaimed. Immediately, Vayra shot Phason¨¦ a mental warning, and they prepared to summon their scythe and activate their techniques. A presence bubbled up behind her, emerging from the crowd, and when she whirled around, she immediately identified the source: the lapin woman who Glade was friends with. She wore a bright yellow dress, the colour of autumn trees, and a couple hair ornaments made of maple leaves. Her staff hung off her back on a strap, but she presented no weapons, nor a threat of any kind. Vayra¡¯s spiritual perception quieted. Glade¡¯s expression immediately brightened, and he bowed his head to her. ¡°It is wonderful to see you up and functional again, Ameena.¡± The woman, Ameena, snorted and flicked her ears. ¡°It¡¯ll take more than that to keep me down. I hope.¡± According to Vayra¡¯s senses, Ameena wasn¡¯t a Commodore yet, but she was on the cusp of advancement. ¡°Come on, Glade!¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see either of you two here! If you come with me, I¡¯ll show you two around! Including you, Ms. Feathers!¡± She stared directly at Vayra when she said that. ¡°It¡¯s gonna last well into the evening, but we¡¯ve got plenty of ground to cover!¡± She hopped off into the crowd. Vayra and Glade shared a glance, but there wasn¡¯t any time to deliberate. If they wanted to keep up, they¡¯d have to follow along. Chapter 23: Navigating Rumours [Volume 4] Nathariel sat on the edge of the dome, observing his two disciples with his perception, as best he could. His senses at Admiral were incredible, but they had also been refined over many years. Experience did wonders for a God-heir¡¯s abilities. An Admiral who had spent many decades at the stage would inevitably be more powerful than a young man who just advanced to it. But eventually, at this rate, Vayra and Glade would overtake him. He shut his eyes and leaned back on the black shingled of the dome. They still radiated warmth from the day before, and they still infused him with heat. He shouldn¡¯t have needed heat, but then again, there were many things he shouldn¡¯t have needed. Like apprentices. Disciples. But he took them, anyway. He sensed a powerful presence approaching from behind, more powerful than most of the others in the Continental Inn below. If a God were to kill him, very few would know or find out about it¡ªit wasn¡¯t like killing the Mediator, or any of the tournament entrants, where such an act would be exposed and broadcasted. He wasn¡¯t important anymore. He hadn¡¯t been important for decades. Centuries. Ever? He¡¯d be better off leaving, and he did push himself up, until he studied the presence further. Farrir. The Forge God. Nathariel narrowed his eyes, then leaned back against the edge of the dome. There was no sense in running, really, not when a God could always catch up if they wanted. It would make such a mess if Farrir were to attack. And, it being Farrir helped. ¡°Good evening,¡± said the forge god, dropping down atop the dome. He landed a few feet higher than Nathariel. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡± A God like Farrir had faint wind aspects to his Path and authority¡ªforges required bellows. It wasn¡¯t much, but being a god, it let him control the wind enough to fly and hover, at least. Nathariel missed being able to do that. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± Farrir demanded. ¡°Causing so much strife, so much trouble within the High Pantheon, and for what?¡± ¡°She¡¯d rise anyway,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I may as well help her.¡± Farrir, despite his bulk, perched on the slope of the dome with surprising grace, buoying himself with wind. His sleeveless coat fluttered, and his enormous hammer swayed. ¡°What I would¡¯ve given for some of your fire¡­the weapons I could¡¯ve forged would¡¯ve laid low even the greatest fiends from¡­the realms above.¡± ¡°Did Karmion send you?¡± ¡°If he wanted to speak with you, he¡¯d visit you himself. No, no. I came to¡­test the waters. If the tides are shifting, I want to be on the right side.¡± Farrir raised his chin, and his brown sidelocks shifted to rim his face. He had deep crescents of darkness beneath his eyes, and he wasn¡¯t smiling. Nathariel had never seen him not at least smirking a little bit. ¡°If she wins her next three fights, she¡¯ll be in the top sixteen in the tournament,¡± said Farrir. ¡°As a reward for making it that far, she will have an audience with a God. Ask her to speak with me, and we may come to an¡­arrangement.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°To live. To keep forging weapons. To do what I do best.¡± Farrir stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. ¡°I would¡¯ve called you brother, once. I gave you a mighty gift, and what have you done except squander it? For five hundred years, you have been nothing.¡± He slid a few inches down the edge of the dome. ¡°What do you want, hm?¡± Nathariel snorted. ¡°I have lived.¡± He shook his head in mock disgust. ¡°For four-hundred years, I scoured the galaxy, seeing what I could, learning what I could, and experiencing what a God-heir never could. I loved, was loved. I watched countless friends die while I advanced beyond age itself. And then I chose to rest and hide¡ªno sense in rearing my head while Karmion expanded.¡± He pushed himself off the dome, unconcerned about looking too casual or angering Farrir. ¡°You say you want to live, but life is more than just¡­your body¡¯s clock keeping ticking, aye? I want friends, I want children who will survive and thrive.¡± ¡°These?¡± Farrir exclaimed, flicking the tails of his coat back. He stared down at the dome, as if his gaze could penetrate the roof of the dome and see through to the grand halls and ballrooms below, where the God-heirs¡ªand Vayra and Glade¡ªwere. ¡°They aren¡¯t your children.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I¡­wish they were.¡± Farrir said nothing for a few seconds. He stared up into the sky¡ªthe half-sphere of the Shattered Moon¡¯s parent planet still covered half the sky, and stars covered the other half. ¡°Wonderful. Just wonderful. Whatever. Tell your disciple, the Mediator, that if she makes it to the top sixteen, she should seek an audience with me. I¡¯ll do what I can to stay in the good graces of all sides.¡± He interlocked his fingers, then cracked his knuckles. ¡°And if she needs a weapon, it can be arranged. My corespace is a forge, my spirit is an anvil, and my soul is a hammer.¡± Ameena dragged Glade off through the crowd, slipping between God-heirs and servants and navigating toward the stage with the performers. Vayra trailed behind, keeping up as best she could. She ducked under a mortal man¡¯s arm, swerving around his serving tray, and turned sideways to pass between a pair of mingling oceanfolk God-heirs. A God-heir had bent down to lace up her sandals, but Vayra vaulted over her. By her reckoning, there should only be around a hundred and thirty or so contestants left, but there were way more than a hundred and thirty guests in the Inn. Some were retainers, some were personal guards, and many were mortal advisors and workers. She sensed the presences of a few Gods nearby, observing but not mingling with the partygoers. She kept her eyes out, trying to scan for Myrrir and make sure that no one was approaching or threatening her, but there were too many people to keep track of. Instead, she kept her attention glued to Glade and Ameena. If Glade had wanted to, he probably could¡¯ve broken Ameena¡¯s grip with ease, but there was no need. She led them to the stage with the orchestra (who now played a slower, waltz-y tune), then veered to the side and approached the entrance to the restaurant-like hall. They passed under an archway. It deposited them in a low-ceilinged, darker room with hundreds of seats. Lanterns with green stained glass windows lit the table. Most were occupied, and though it appeared to be a restaurant, the guests mostly only held drinks and small appetizers. ¡°Sorry,¡± Vayra said to Ameena, ¡°but we did already eat back at the contestants¡¯ quarters. We¡­weren¡¯t expecting this.¡± It seemed most everyone else was the same way. ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± Ameena said. ¡°I¡¯ve gathered up a table of¡­uh, let¡¯s just say grateful friends. Who want to speak with you.¡± Glade glanced over his shoulder, and Vayra shrugged. She said, ¡°That¡¯s¡­why we¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Wonderful!¡± Ameena chirped, then flicked her ears toward a table with a few God-heirs seated at it. There had to be about ten of them, all dressed in fancy coats, robes, and dresses. One wore a tricorn hat with a massive plume, and another wore a bandolier with pistols in it. A few were humans, but there was also an elf, a couple oceanfolk, and a man with wolf ears. She couldn¡¯t say what their Paths were, and she probably wouldn¡¯t be able to remember it anyway, but for the moment, it shouldn¡¯t matter. They were potential allies. She, Glade, and Ameena approached, but they didn¡¯t sit down. All the others at the tables were all Commodores and Captains, and they turned to look at her the moment she stepped up to the edge of the table. ¡°Good¡­evening,¡± she said, taking a seat at the end of the table. It was oval-shaped, and they¡¯d left the head open for her, Glade, and Ameena. Vayra scooched her chair in closer to the table, sliding its ornately carved legs along the floor. ¡°I¡­hear you want to talk?¡± Ameena motioned to a trio of young men beside her. ¡°These guys heard about what happened. Rumours are circling. There¡¯s an ocean-Path God-heir with blood manipulation abilities, and she¡¯s taking people out.¡± She motioned to the other side of the table. ¡°And here, these ones were in the ruins. They saw you rescue them.¡± ¡°We¡­can¡¯t stand for this any longer,¡± the elf said in a low voice, almost a whisper. Vayra barely heard him over the bustling of the crowd all around them. ¡°Karmion only favours his own children.¡± He glanced over his shoulder, as if worried someone might overhear him. ¡°We figure we¡¯d be better off throwing our lot in with the Velaydians than with him. He has no loyalties, no honour, nothing.¡± Vayra swallowed. ¡°Is everyone here still in the tournament?¡± Most of them nodded, including Ameena. She couldn¡¯t give away their plan too soon, and she wasn¡¯t sure if everyone here could be trusted at all. Maybe they were all spies. And maybe Karmion knew exactly what they were trying anyway, but that didn¡¯t mean she could just abandon all caution. ¡°Look,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m here to destroy Karmion. I have to.¡± She¡¯d never set the world right, she¡¯d never see the stars or travel or explore without first dealing with the Elderworlds. ¡°If you¡¯re here to help, you have to know what I want. Are you guys in or not?¡± ¡°No one would blame you if you backed down,¡± Glade added. ¡°We have certain immunities, I suppose, being Velaydians and foreigners, but here? If you get caught, you¡¯re done for.¡± Again, most of them nodded. One backed away from the table with a respectful bow. He stood up and turned away, then melded into the crowd¡ªand Vayra never saw him again. ¡°There isn¡¯t much else to discuss,¡± Vayra said. ¡°And the way things are going, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re getting offworld without a confrontation. We could use extra hands, I¡¯m sure. And¡­if we face you in the tournament¡­have mercy.¡± ¡°Why do you need to win?¡± one asked. ¡°You¡­can¡¯t hold the Godly authority, can you?¡± ¡°She cannot, but I can,¡± Glade provided. ¡°And one God on our side cannot hurt.¡± ¡°If I face you in the tournament,¡± another said, ¡°I will surrender. No sense in putting all our future in the hands of Karmion when¡­well, if the Velaydians turn out to be as bad as he says they are, at least it¡¯ll be something different.¡± Vayra offered a slight smile. ¡°Thank you, all. There¡¯s¡­really not much more I can say. We¡¯ll take it as we go, but it¡¯s good to know that there are people on our side. But¡­for the moment, I wouldn¡¯t mind just getting some drinks and getting to know all of you.¡± Chapter 24: Satisfaction [Volume 4] Myrrir¡¯s next fight began only a day after his previous. With the pool of contestants dwindling, the fights were coming with greater and greater frequency. He marched out into the center of the arena and faced his next opponent: an average man in a sleeveless shirt. He wore a necklace with chunks of plain granite hanging from it, and wielded nothing but his fists. Behind him stood an enormous hedgehog golem with spikes of similar granite and composite eyes that looked more like an insect¡¯s than a hedgehog¡¯s. A quick scan of his spirit revealed his low spiritual potential. The beast had probably contracted its stone manipulation abilities out, allowing him to aspect-bend his abilities in such a manner. The man had no sponsor or important family, but he¡¯d fought his way up through the ranks via rigorous practice, likely some elixir theft, and hundreds of years. Just to reach Commodore, and with a pathetically little well of mana. Myrrir was almost tempted to blindfold himself. The Velaydians had made a name for themselves by doing it, and everyone in the contestant quarters had been talking about it. Then, later, at the Grand Continental Inn, they¡¯d whispered about how Vayra and Glade had defeated their opponents even while blindfolded. They wondered about the power of the Velaydians. They wondered what resources the old kingdom had access to. They never said anything to their faces. Myrrir was tempted. Of course he was. To have people talking about him like that? For his father to see him like that? But truly, such an act wasn¡¯t necessary. He didn¡¯t need to force himself to refine his perception. It was just¡­there. He restored himself to the Commodore stage and his senses returned. He¡¯d already practiced them, and he¡¯d already grown to trust them. It would prove nothing. So, looking down at the sand, he approached his opponent. The man took a fighting stance, and his hedgehog let off a low growl. Its spines rattled, the sound like two rocks clacking together. A barrel of gunpowder waited to Myrrir¡¯s right side, provided for his use, and a large granite brick lay to his left¡ªperfect for the granite-wielding Commodore. Karmion announced their names, but Myrrir didn¡¯t pay attention. He hauled his jade sword out of its sheath, letting its heft settle into his hands, then spun it around. As soon as the trumpet blared and the battle began, he advanced, closing the distance between the granite-wielder and himself. He drew up the gunpowder and manipulated it into spikes, lashing out at the granite-wielder and the hedgehog. With a flurry of blows, he wore them down. The more Wards he forced them to make, the more mana they¡¯d use up, and the sooner they¡¯d crumble. The granite-wielder hammered him back, of course, but that¡¯s what Myrrir¡¯s sword was for. Conjuring a wedge of gunpowder along the blade, he strengthened the weapon and slashed through chunks and shards of stone. He whirled the blade fast enough to create a pale green bubble around himself, all while launching spears of gunpowder at his opponents. A spear bashed against the man¡¯s gauntlets of granite, sparking, and Myrrir let the gunpowder ignite. The explosion sent both the hedgehog and its master skidding back. And they were both out of mana. Myrrir shook his head and approached. He begged them to keep fighting, to force him to finish them off and spare the second round, but they didn¡¯t. The granite wielder lowered his fists and the hedgehog backed away. They couldn¡¯t drop their techniques; they already weren¡¯t using anything. Myrrir could say he saw the man twitch, maybe. He could say he thought there was a risk. Even if they didn¡¯t buy it, there was no risk to his honour¡ªhe really had nothing to lose at this point. But the tighter he gripped the sword, the louder Tye¡¯s voice nagged him. It didn¡¯t really say anything in particular. Wisps of the man¡¯s placations and reassurances, him begging Myrrir to not do anything rash. Or to just do the right thing. Myrrir lowered his sword. ¡°Go. Refill your mana.¡± He shook his head and swatted his sword through the sand, kicking up a wave of dust. ¡°Be quick about it.¡± Myrrir didn¡¯t have any retinue or observers anymore. No one to meet with him and discuss the strategy after the fight, nor to check him for wounds. He just had a barrel of Stream water, dragged along straight from the contestants¡¯ quarters, full of spirit water from which he could refill his mana. He dipped his hands in and absorbed it, and waited for a half hour until the next round began. The next round progressed the exact same way as the first. He didn¡¯t alter his strategy, and there was nothing his opponent could do about it. The granite wielder didn¡¯t have the speed, and even with two of them, they couldn¡¯t outmaneuver him. In less than a minute, he drained their mana reserves and forced them into surrender once more. Unsatisfying. Again, he had almost been hoping his opponent would fight to the bitter end, if not for his ease, then for the satisfaction of a killing blow. His opponent had made his slog through two whole rounds of a fight¡ªhe deserved some sort of punishment. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Again, Tye would have advocated against it. He¡¯d have reasoned with Myrrir. Even though it wasn¡¯t official, if Myrrir slaughtered a defenceless opponent who¡¯d clearly surrendered, he might be removed from the tournament himself as punishment. It was for that reason that Myrrir lowered his sword once again, and he hated that. This was unsatisfying. It wasn¡¯t right. Why couldn¡¯t he just be better? He rolled his lips inward. Maybe¡­maybe there was a way to force himself in the direction he needed. In the right direction. Something more satisfying. As he marched across the arena, back to the gate and his barrel of Stream water, he contemplated what he was going to put in his letter. Glade won the first round of his next fight with ease. He fought a Commodore, a human woman with a wood-based Path. If they thought a wood-based Path would be extremely effective against him, they might have been right. His enemy didn¡¯t have any extra metal or sharp object he could draw on, and she mustered hundreds of seed-pod-shaped vessels of wood, each with a sharp tip. She launched them at Glade from every angle possible, every angle imaginable, and with incredible precision. And he blocked them all. She had vastly more mana than him, and she was trying to wear him down with a barrage of attacks¡ªlike Myrrir had done in his fight an hour before. Problem was, Glade knew how to fight people with wood-based Paths. He¡¯d dealt with Wren, and he could deal with this, too. ¡°Protect my back,¡± he whispered to the swordwyrm, and the blade obliged. It whirled around behind him, smashing through chunks of wood and guarding him against any heavier attacks. He kept it locked in his perception, keeping tabs on the creature, but that was just a contingency. In three seconds, he hacked his way through the barrage and charged at his opponent. In five seconds, he had his sword at her neck. She raised her arms in surrender. The second round proceeded almost the same, if only a little longer, but he still won easily. Tracking the wooden shards in his spiritual perception allowed him to insert his sword into the precise position it needed to be to block the attack. His opponent drew more wood shards back toward her body, using them to Ward herself, and she withstood three attacks before Glade and the swordwyrm broke through. They stopped the blade with its tip pointing at her heart, ready to stab through, but she raised her arms in surrender and backed away. Glade offered her a bow, and with a soft exhale, she extended the same courtesy. They both retreated to opposite sides of the arena, with Glade declared the victor. Vayra¡¯s fight was the last of the day, and it took place during the evening. The sand glowed gold and orange, and lanterns lit up all through the crowd. She faced a young man with silver hair and wolf ears. As soon as he saw her step out into the light, his ears flattened against the back of his head and he growled. He whirled a saber around and pointed it at her, all while extending a Reach technique down the blade. Vines crawled down from the crossguard and wrapped around the sword, protecting it and forming thick barbs. Not a sword-Path, but a plant-Based Path. Understood. ¡®That¡¯s Dannel Lee Taupher,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®He was near the top of the ratings, and he¡¯s from a prominent family under Frayne¡¯s authority¡ªthat¡¯d be the Goddess plants and trees.¡¯ ¡°Remember what his Path does?¡± ¡®He¡¯ll try to ensnare and trap you, then finish you off with that sword. Don¡¯t let the vines touch us, and we¡¯ll be good.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re assuming we¡¯ll falter against someone who can lock us up and negate our speed.¡± ¡®If he can catch us.¡¯ As soon as the fight began, Vayra activated the Astral Shroud and lunged into action. Upon reaching Commodore, her mana well had expanded, and she¡¯d had plenty of time to fill it, not to mention make new Arcara for all her techniques. Her advancement, and the solidification and realization of her spiritual system, gave her a better grasp on the entire system, and she visualized it more clearly. Instead of Arcara being another substance to be used and consumed, it seemed more like a baseline substance, an arcane blood. It circulated, rarely depleting, and when she used it for a technique, it temporarily became unavailable for other uses. With enough Arcara, she could use as many techniques as she wanted. And she¡¯d been cycling ever since her advancement. She used a combination of scythe strikes and Starlight Palms to strike Dannel, all while maintaining the Astral Shroud. It drew mana, especially using so many techniques at once, but she had more mana than ever before. Dannel resisted, trying to ensnare her and trap her, but with the help of Adair and his enhanced reflexes, she evaded all of his strikes. With a last effort, he consumed all his mana to conjure Wards and Bracing techniques, and he staved off a few heavy scythe blows before he ran out completely. He didn¡¯t stop. He kept drawing on his muscles and core, burning them as a substitute for mana. With such high-level techniques, his broad form shrank within seconds. Vayra sprang back. He was going to push himself over the limit, turn himself into a Ko-Ganall. She remembered what Hammontor¡¯s Ko-Ganall had done to a planet. If it went too far¡­ Immediately, he started consuming his core and soul. A cloud of black ash and soot wrapped itself around his core, like a star going supernova, and then layers of unbound, unrestricted arcane flesh wrapped around overtop it. Not good. She pushed herself back up, ready to jump in and blast it apart, when a column of Arcara-controlled water blasted down from above, encircling the crumbling man and containing him. Karmion hovered above the arena on a cloud of mist. He held his hand out and clenched his fist, and the water obeyed him, constricting and crushing the budding Ko-Ganall before it could expand and eradicate the Shattered Moon. He descended and turned to Vayra. She stared at him for a few seconds, and he stared back. He¡¯d just protected the life of his mortal enemy. And prevented a massive headache for himself. ¡°You are the victor, girl,¡± he spat. ¡°Leave.¡± She obliged. Chapter 25: The Note [Volume 4] When they returned to their quarters after the day¡¯s fights, Vayra was the last to set foot inside the apartment. Their outer wall had been repaired hastily with wood and tarp, but Vayra didn¡¯t mind. It still gave them privacy, and it wasn¡¯t cool enough outside to necessitate proper insulation. She wanted to sink into the chairs or couch and relax, or even just flop down on the floor and splay her arms out. But as soon as she shut the door behind her, a parchment note tumbled off it. It nearly slipped through the gap under the door, but she bent down and snatched it up as quickly as she could. Lines of ink traced across it in neat, perfect handwriting, befitting of the best scribes of a God. But it had no seal or crest, and no plain introduction or explanation. Her eyes drifted to the bottom line, where someone had signed a name: Myrrir. Oh no. ¡®Just hold it still, at least!¡¯ Phason¨¦ scolded. ¡®Then I can read it through your eyes!¡¯ By now, Glade and Nathariel were turning around as well. They faced her. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Nathariel asked. ¡°A¡­note?¡± Glade cocked his head to the side. ¡°Aye, of course it¡¯s a note. What¡¯s on it?¡± ¡°That is not what you asked.¡± ¡°It was¡­just on the back of the door?¡± Vayra held it up toward them, almost not wanting to read it. Not almost. If she showed it to them, then she had a better excuse to not read it herself. ¡®Oh, just turn it around!¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. ¡®I want to read it too!¡¯ ¡°That is also not¡­what Nathariel asked,¡± Glade muttered. Taking a short breath, Vayra flipped the note around and forced herself to read through it carefully, from the very start to finish. Mediator. We need to talk. I come in peace. I propose a truce. I need to speak with you. I mean you no harm. ¡®Well, he¡¯s just saying the same thing over and over again!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡®I¡¯d have thought he¡¯d be better at writing than that.¡¯ ¡°Do you want me to keep reading or not?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®I¡¯m using your eyes anyway.¡¯ Vayra shook her head and kept reading. I don¡¯t know how to make you trust me, or if such a thing is possible, but I have reason to believe that there is a serious threat to your existence. They are constructing a weapon. Meet me tonight at the main entrance to the arena. Please, at least let me have this one chance to speak with you. ¡°He had plenty of chances to speak with me,¡± Vayra whispered. She rubbed her shoulder, running her flesh and blood fingers along the boundary between her arm stump and mechanical limb. ¡°He didn¡¯t take them.¡± She passed the note to Glade, then walked past in a hurry and dropped herself down on the couch. It hadn¡¯t been repaired since the assassination attempt, and one of its legs had fallen off. If she tried to sit upright, the awkward lean of the couch made it just slightly uncomfortable, but if she let herself match the lean and soak into the fabric, it wasn¡¯t so bad. ¡°It¡¯s probably another trap,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not indulging him.¡± ¡°He is still a Commodore,¡± Glade pointed out, walking over to her and sitting on a chair on the other side of the room. ¡°Nathariel alone could defeat him. You could likely defeat him, if you chose to. Even if it is a trap, you do not have to go alone, and he poses very little threat to us. He knows this as well.¡± Nathariel prowled over and snatched the note out of Glade¡¯s hands, then skimmed it quickly. ¡°Aye, and if he is being honest, it will save you a great deal of trouble.¡± ¡®Maybe he is being honest,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®No one writes a letter like that, doubling over everything they¡¯ve said in terrified honesty, except people who are being honest.¡¯ ¡°Nobody except for good liars,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s the principle of it. There¡¯s no reason he¡¯d do this. He¡¯s evil and ambitious.¡± She bent over and placed her hand on her thigh, where her skin met metal and wood. ¡°I¡¯m not going.¡± ¡°He could be trying to prevent you from walking into a trap, so he could take you for himself and attain the glory,¡± Phason¨¦ said in a voice everyone could hear¡ªwhile Vayra had been speaking, the Goddess had manifested in the real world. ¡°No sense in letting someone else claim the prize he wanted.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. She inhaled slowly, and, with no rebuttal coming to mind, instead said, ¡°You came out?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t just going to stay trapped in your mind while I had comments everyone needed to hear. But that¡¯s dodging the point¡ªI can still read your thoughts, even out here. You can¡¯t run from this one.¡± ¡°Watch me. I learned my lesson. Don¡¯t need to face him and pointlessly hurt myself. Maybe I¡¯ll lose another limb or end up with another shadowthorn in my gut.¡± ¡°Vayra, you¡¯re being unreasonable.¡± ¡°Me? Everyone else is insisting I face the¡­the guy responsible for most of my torment these past few months and just¡­let him talk? No thanks.¡± ¡°If you believe he¡¯s responsible, then what is Nilsenir? What is Karmion?¡± ¡°They¡¯re Gods,¡± Vayra spat. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± ¡°Ladies,¡± Nathariel said, stepping between Vayra and the ghostly white projection of Phason¨¦. ¡°Quit the bickering for a second.¡± ¡°Pet your cat,¡± Phason¨¦ whispered, tilting her head toward Adair, who crawled around on the couch beside her. ¡°And just listen.¡± ¡°How about this?¡± said Glade. ¡°Nathariel and I will go first. We will meet him, and we will determine if there is a threat, and then you can come down when you feel that it is safe?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Vayra picked up Adair and placed him on her lap. ¡°Alright. Alright. I¡¯ll do it, but¡­the moment he tries anything¡­I¡¯m not going to restrain myself.¡± She was about to say that she would slip away and disappear, but that wasn¡¯t right. She knew it wasn¡¯t. She¡¯d already destroyed a Commodore¡ªPhason¨¦¡¯s brother¡ªand she could definitely defeat Myrrir. ¡°I¡¯ll use the Mediator form and I¡¯ll destroy him. He will not get away from us this time.¡± The arena¡¯s main entryway was tall, but Vayra climbed its edges with ease. She slotted her boots into the rough stone bricks and pushed herself from ledge to ledge, ascending up the interior of the frame. The gate was open, even so late in the evening¡ªthe sun had set and a chunk of crust blocked most of the starlight and planetlight. Its two massive doors yawned open, and the exterior portcullis clung to the upper arch of the gate, polished steel flickering in the lanternlight. Vayra climbed behind the door, staying out of sight. She could¡¯ve used techniques to climb faster, but she was also maintaining a veil. Her spiritual perception was vastly limited by a veil. Without proper cycling patterns, she couldn¡¯t stretch her senses out as far as she would¡¯ve liked¡ªonly a ten-foot diameter around herself. But at least with a veil active, she could evade Myrrir¡¯s detection and keep herself out of a trap. If something was going to happen, she could make a long-distance informed, rational decision. Hopefully. When the doorway began sloping inward and her grip started slipping, she jumped over to the back of the wooden gate and hauled herself up to the top. The entire door was four feet thick¡ªplenty of room to lay down on top of it and observe the meeting ten storeys below. Nathariel and Glade walked side-by-side on the opposite side of the gate. Vayra peered over the edge of the gate, her head mostly hidden. Myrrir wasn¡¯t there. There were only a few clusters of late-night pedestrians milling about, a few God-heirs returning from a day in the port city, and a steady stream of wagons importing fresh food into the arena. It wasn¡¯t as if they were completely out in the open, but if Myrrir was here, she¡¯d see him right away. Maybe someone set her up. Maybe it was a prank, and Myrrir wouldn¡¯t actually turn up. ¡®That¡¯s what you wish¡­¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. A moment later, she manifested a physical form beside Vayra. She stayed back far enough that her glowing form wouldn¡¯t be visible to anyone looking up from the ground level. ¡°But who else knows of your feud with Myrrir? The gods? I can¡¯t imagine any of them doing a ¡®prank¡¯.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But Myrrir couldn¡¯t have handwriting that neat, could he? It seems impossible.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he? He¡¯s had hundreds of years to perfect his form and style, and he would¡¯ve had access to the best tutors his father¡¯s money could buy. If he didn¡¯t have neat handwriting, it¡¯d reflect poorly on the entire family whenever he sent a letter. In fact, the cleanliness of the note is evidence that it was sent by him.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and recalled her own brother¡¯s handwriting. It was horrible and scratchy. Not that either of them really had time to practice writing, and they¡¯d just copied what they¡¯d seen in Old Uckoe¡¯s books. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But don¡¯t let it go to your head, Phas. Just this time.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see¡­¡± Phason¨¦ crossed her arms. ¡°Will you admit that I was right about Myrrir?¡± ¡°Not until I see him with my own eyes and listen in on the conversation, and until he doesn¡¯t go on an honour-bound kidnapping quest.¡± Phason¨¦ snorted. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s too soon.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s too soon, Phas.¡± Vayra shook her head. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry for snapping at you earlier. Didn¡¯t mean to squabble, and especially not in front of the others. But¡­¡± ¡°I played my part in that, too,¡± Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡°So¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re good in my eyes,¡± Vayra said. She reached out and grabbed Phason¨¦¡¯s ghostly hand, then locked their fingers together. ¡°But if Myrrir goes crazy, then I get to tell you ¡®I told you so,¡± and you just have to suck it up.¡± ¡°You¡¯re such a¡ª¡± ¡°Deal?¡± ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Phason¨¦ groaned. ¡°What do I get if you¡¯re wrong, though?¡± ¡°Uh¡­hugs and kisses?¡± Vayra rolled her lips inward. ¡°I mean, in the romantic sense, too?¡± She scratched the back of her head with her other hand. ¡°But those aren¡¯t contingent on you being right¡­¡± Phason¨¦ rolled her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, then pointed ahead. ¡°Look.¡± Turning her attention forward again, Vayra inched to the edge of the doorway and peered down into the vestibule, where Glade and Nathariel waited. A figure approached them. He wore a hooded cloak, but spiky Stellacovan glass hair still left a crown-like impression under the hood. Beneath his cloak, glimpses of golden armour peered through. It was him. ¡°Good¡­evening,¡± he said. Vayra strained her ears, using her enhanced Commodore body to pick up on the voices. It wasn¡¯t as effective as using her enhanced vision; she had trouble targeting it and picking out voices, but when there weren¡¯t very many people around, and when few of them were even talking at all, she caught snippets. ¡°Myrrir,¡± said Glade, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword. ¡°Why are you here?¡± Nathariel demanded. ¡°This¡­conversation was easier in my head,¡± Myrrir said. He sounded¡­unsure. Confused. Vayra pulled her hand away from Phason¨¦¡¯s and gripped the edge of the door with certainty. She needed to know what he¡¯d say next. He had to have a plan. He¡¯d ask where she was and try to trap her. Myrrir pulled back his hood, then shut his eyes and shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing.¡± Chapter 26: Forging A Weapon [Volume 4] ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°He¡¯s¡­he¡¯s gotta be up to something.¡± ¡°If he¡¯s here for you,¡± said Phason¨¦, in a voice that was audible to everyone around¡ªshe still manifested as an apparition, ¡°then he has no reason to spring his trap until you turn up.¡± For now, though, there was no one else around to hear¡ªunless Myrrir was specifically looking their direction and trying to listen in. They still perched at the top of the arena¡¯s gate, looking down over the conversation below. Vayra strained her ears to hear the conversation between Myrrir, Glade, and Nathariel¡ªa normal human wouldn¡¯t have been able to do it, but her senses had enhanced, too, when she reached Commodore. ¡°You said they are constructing a weapon?¡± Nathariel demanded. ¡°Who? And what sort of weapon?¡± ¡°Is the Mediator here?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°She needs to¡ª¡± ¡°If there is anything important, we will relay it to her,¡± Glade asserted. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Do you have a warning for her, or not?¡± Nathariel asked. Myrrir lowered his arms and let his head droop. ¡°Yes, yes. I¡­do.¡± ¡°See?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°He just wanted me to be there, so he could trick me, or something.¡± Last time she¡¯d seen him had been on Muspellar, and there was absolutely no reason to believe anything would go differently this time. ¡°Or so he could prove to you that he wants to help,¡± Phason¨¦ suggested. ¡°Don¡¯t buy that. Why do you think that?¡± Phason¨¦ shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­lived long enough. I¡¯ve seen people like him before. He might have seemed powerful, and truly, making it to Captain in the time he did was impressive. He built solid Foundations and progressed slowly, and he didn¡¯t deal any lasting damage to his spiritual system¡ªuntil he met Nathariel, that is. But eventually, people like him, the endless strivers who gain power for power¡¯s sake, they¡¯ll burn out. When you¡¯ve surpassed everyone around you, advanced beyond all comparable metrics, reaching the next stage feels harder and harder. And this is what it looks like¡­¡± Vayra let out an abrupt breath. She¡¯d missed a slice of the conversation between Myrrir, Glade, and Nathariel. Myrrir was saying, ¡°...crafted by Kalawen. It¡¯s a specialized shadowthorn, rated for Admiral and above. With it, he could lock in place not only the Arcara, but drive a permanent wedge between the soul and the spirit.¡± ¡°Karmion could lock away Vayra and Phason¨¦ and keep them from helping each other¡­¡± Nathariel breathed. ¡°How?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯m in your soul,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Technically. That¡¯s where our bond passes through. If you want to lock either of us apart from each other, the best way to do it would be by separating our soul from our spirit.¡± ¡°Would that not¡­kill us?¡± Vayra whispered. She reached down and rubbed her gut, where Myrrir had stabbed her with a normal shadowthorn. ¡°Maybe. Maybe not.¡± Phason¨¦ shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s never been done before.¡± ¡°Why not? Why wouldn¡¯t Karmion do this to us right away?¡± ¡°It¡¯s no doubt a high-level treasure. Chances are, if they used it on us before we reached Lieutenant, it¡¯d just destroy us both, and they¡¯d have to contend with a new Mediator,¡± Phason¨¦ explained. ¡°And as far as we know, that was the last thing Karmion wanted.¡± ¡°Wanted?¡± ¡°He may be leaning closer to just¡­destroying us. A new Mediator would be chosen, but they¡¯d be weak once more, and he could try again.¡± In the distance, on the floor of the arena entrance, Myrrir backed away slowly, holding his hands up. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a threat. I don¡¯t have it.¡± ¡°How do you know about it?¡± Glade demanded. ¡°You are not one of them, correct? Cast out, dishonoured? There is no reason the gods would tell you their plans.¡± ¡°I know them,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Karmion and Kalawen have been working closely over these past few weeks. She has been visiting his ship, and among all the other powerful presences here, you may not have noticed, but there were spikes of Arcara flowing from the port¡ªfrom his ship. The kind you feel when someone is Moulding a substance.¡± ¡°So they¡¯re making something, aye,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°It could be anything.¡± Myrrir shook his head. ¡°Karmion has the majority of the shadowthorns. He¡¯s scooped them up over the years. They aren¡¯t terribly useful on their own, but you can use them to lock up a low-level God-heir pretty neatly. Besides, he stores all of them aboard his ship. If he was going to make something with one, that¡¯s where he¡¯d do it.¡± He took another cautious step back and pulled up his hood. ¡°When he¡¯s working on his weapon, he takes his ship out, and they circle around the system a little while on the Stream¡ªthe constant mana influxes are critical for maintaining the weapon¡¯s integrity.¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Glade tightened his fingers around the hilt of his sword. In response, Myrrir pushed aside one half of his cloak, revealing his empty scabbard. He hadn¡¯t even brought his enormous jade sword with him. Vayra tried to keep a stoic face, but she couldn¡¯t hide her thoughts from Phason¨¦. Perhaps Myrrir meant it after all. Or he knew exactly how to manipulate them. ¡°See for yourself,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Go to Shatterport and observe his ship, and see what spiritual presences you detect. Sneak aboard if you have to, follow him out when he goes on a journey. See what Arcara aspects you feel. You can tell for yourself whether I¡¯m being honest or not.¡± ¡°Vayra?¡± Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡°Are we going down there or not?¡± ¡°Not today,¡± she replied. ¡°We¡¯ll see if he¡¯s telling the truth. Not falling for any more of his traps if I can help it.¡± Let him walk away. They¡¯d figure this out, and if he was lying¡­ ¡°You don¡¯t have a plan if he¡¯s lying, do you?¡± Phason¨¦ whispered. ¡°We¡¯ll eliminate him when the time comes, if it comes.¡± ¡°Is that everything?¡± came Nathariel¡¯s distant voice. He wasn¡¯t waiting on her, either. ¡°If it is, we¡¯ll cut this short. Both for your safety and ours, aye?¡± ¡°Y¡ªyes.¡± Myrrir glanced around one more time, and for good measure, Vayra ducked down, hiding behind the ridge of the door. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± Myrrir turned away and walked out the arena gates, keeping his head down and his hood drawn. Someone might have noticed him, but there wasn¡¯t anyone around. And even if there was¡­what did it matter? Father would be disappointed that he was trying to help the Mediator, sure. Instinctively, he knew it would hurt his standing. But that wasn¡¯t why he tried to set up the meeting. Once he had slipped out into the depths of the woods, there was barely any light to see by. He stepped off the road, racing away from even the distant lanterns of wagon and cart traffic, and tucked behind a tree. ¡°Was that satisfying?¡± he whispered. ¡°Was that what you wanted?¡± All he could do was shrug. But that didn¡¯t fix anything. Of course, a shrug told him all he needed to know¡ªof course it hadn¡¯t been satisfying. Nothing had been accomplished. He¡¯d just set a ball rolling. Hopefully the Mediator would see for herself. Hopefully, then, she¡¯d be willing to entertain his presence and speak with him. It was too late that evening to investigate anything. By the time Vayra reached Shatterport, it¡¯d be midnight, and by the time she investigated and returned, it¡¯d be early in the morning. She could survive off less sleep than before, but not no sleep. Not to mention, her next fight was the next day. She couldn¡¯t jeopardize the tournament for this. Besides, they had plans to make and friends to muster. If they snuck aboard Karmion¡¯s ship, they¡¯d get caught, but if they tailed it from a distance, they¡¯d stand a chance. As soon as Myrrir disappeared into the woods, she climbed down from her perch, then explained her plan to Nathariel and Glade. On the way back to their apartment, they stopped by a tiny mail room near the top of the arena. A single mortal operator stood inside, scrawling notes on tiny slips of paste-covered parchment, rolling them up, then tucking them inside a messenger fish¡¯s mouth. He had a whole tank of silver-gray fish just waiting to be used, and with expert precision, he snatched them out of the water. The fish squirmed for a few seconds. He pried its mouth open and tucked the parchment note inside, then clamped the fish¡¯s mouth shut and slotted it into a Stream water-filled tube in the wall. The fish bolted away in a flash. He must have been doing this job his whole life. ¡°What can I help you with?¡± he asked, no intonation in his voice. He barely looked up from the desk he hunched over, and . ¡°We need to send a letter,¡± said Vayra. ¡°Out of the city. Inter¡­galactic mail?¡± The operator nodded, then tapped a second tube. He opened a slat of metal in its side. ¡°Write your note. I¡¯ll prepare your fish. What is your target?¡± Glade gave him instructions on how to send it to the Harmony while Vayra prepared the note: Captain Pels. Return to Shatterport, she wrote. We will need your help. Please be in port by Shatterport¡¯s evening tomorrow. Assuming he hadn¡¯t sailed too far away, the note would reach the Harmony in a matter of hours, and from there, the ship could return. She rolled up the note and dropped it into the fish¡¯s mouth. Without a God-heir to target, they had to aim for the ship specifically. As Glade explained, most ships had a set of rune on their keel, both for helping keep the upright in the Stream and to aid some other minor functions¡ªwhich Vayra knew little about¡ªbut they resonated with a certain frequency. The messenger fish, if it had the same runes painted on its side, could track the ship through the Stream like a shark followed blood. They clamped the fish¡¯s mouth shut, dropped it in the chute, and it swam away with a flash. ¡°Tomorrow evening,¡± she said. ¡°We investigate.¡± When Captain Pels heard the crew shouting about a messenger fish, he jumped out of his hammock immediately. It had been late at night, Tavelle time¡ªwhich the rest of the crew had adhered to, even in the depths of space. They had no other way of tracking their watches as they sailed the Stream routes around the Shattered Moon. They explored all the possible paths they could take, all the nearby star systems and astronomical features. For one, there was a small singularity. The Stream passed close by it, with a route all maps warned them against. But when the messenger fish finally gave them a task, Pels was more than grateful. He spread Vayra¡¯s note out on the deck and read it quickly, then nodded. ¡°We return to Shatterport! Seems we¡¯ve got a ship to track!¡± Perfect for an old smuggler like him. Chapter 27: Splitting | The Next Children [Volume 4] Vayra pulled her hands out of the bucket of Stream water and drew all the mana back into her system. It flooded into her channels, fuelling her for the second half of today¡¯s match. She flexed her fingers, then stood up and took a step back. She¡¯d already won the first half of the fight, but it took nearly all her mana to deal with the metal-wielding force manipulator. The bulky man was just shy of a sword-Path. He used a giant metal cudgel, and he carried a double-barrelled musket on his back. Instead of directing the force into a wedge, like sword-Path users, he created giant anti-wedges that blasted people away and improved the blunt force of his strikes. Fraynin Cai Kalos, according to the announcement Karmion had made at the start of the first fight, just over a half-hour ago. She shook her hands off and spun around, then delivered a nod to Nathariel and King Tallerion¡¯s aide, who stood nearby. There was no advice they could give that they hadn¡¯t already given. ¡°Ready, Phas?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®As I¡¯ll ever be,¡¯ the Goddess replied. ¡®Got the scythe ready.¡¯ She walked out into the center of the arena, back into the blazing sun and scrutiny of the crowd. They fell silent. She stopped as close as she could to the center divider of the arena. There was no true divider, but there was a darker patch of sand that they weren¡¯t supposed to cross over before the fight started. She needed to get as close as she could to Kalos before the fight began, or he¡¯d overwhelm her with ranged attacks. He, standing nearly three heads taller than her, and about twice as wide¡ªall muscle¡ªstomped up to the center of the arena, then twirled his cudgel around like it was a thin saber. Before the trumpet could blare, signalling the start of the fight, Kalos whipped his cudgel up, dragging it through the sand, then blasting it out with a wave of extra power. Grains whipped past her face as fast as bullets, then a wave of invisible force struck her in the chest. She barely had time to Ward her robes and bring her arms in front of her face. The blast ripped her off her feet and threw her back across the arena, sending her sliding through the sand and skidding back toward the entrance she¡¯d come from. The drawbridge was already up, and a wall of water rose from the moat around the arena¡¯s edge, protecting the viewers from collateral damage. Still, the mortal audience scrambled back in their seats. Vayra landed hard on her stomach, but jumped to her feet right away. Winded or not, this wouldn¡¯t be how she died. If Kalos was attacking before the fight truly began, he wasn¡¯t going to show mercy¡ªdishonour or not. If she lost this round, she was dead. The crowd stayed silent, save for a few scattered gasps. Above, two golden projections displayed the competitors, broadcasting their movements to the distant audience moments later. And high above, Karmion floated, watching with a smug grin. How much had he paid Kalos to do this? She Moulded the scythe in an instant, drawing on the spatial rift off to the right side of the arena. Kalos needed no source for his Path¡ªit was all around. Still standing across the arena, he raised his cudgel, then slammed it down onto the empty sand. Even at such a distance, pressure weighed down on Vayra pushing her down into the sand and trying to crush her. She Warded her back and bent over, like she was carrying a heavy box on her back, but a shield wouldn¡¯t stop her spine from compressing and shattering under the weight. She fed Arcara to her limbs and muscles, repairing the damage and strain as quickly as her body would allow, but the pressure grew stronger and stronger. ¡®We need to get out!¡¯ Phason¨¦ exclaimed. ¡°How¡­quickly can you cross the arena?¡± Vayra grunted. ¡°Your little ghost, white form thing?¡± ¡®Better question: do I have the range?¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m a Commodore now. We better have enough range to send you that far.¡± ¡®No better time to try than now?¡¯ ¡°Not really! I¡¯ll feed you half my mana supply. Use it to distract him!¡± ¡®We needed that last time!¡¯ ¡°This time, we need to not die!¡± Phason¨¦¡¯s projection emerged from Vayra. For a brief moment, Vayra reached out and locked hands with the projection, feeding as much mana as she could, not really concerned over whether precisely half had fled or not, then dropped her arm to the ground to brace herself against the piling up weight of Kalos¡¯ attack. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Then Phason¨¦ pushed off and darted across the arena. The Goddess skirted the edge of the arena, sprinting. Each step kicked up a wave of dust behind her, and soon, she had a beige wake. She wasn¡¯t moving as fast as Vayra could with the Astral Shroud, but each step had power that Vayra just couldn¡¯t match. She reached Kalos in a matter of seconds, then stuck him in the side with a heavy punch. He staggered. His grip on Vayra melted, and she sprang back to her feet. She didn¡¯t have the scythe anymore, not with Phason¨¦ outside her body, but she drew her pistol and activated the Astral Shroud, then zipped across the arena to meet Kalos as he staggered. Now a Commodore, she moved fast enough that the air behind her turned to a cone and exploded with a deep boom, as loud as a cannon firing. When she reached Kalos, she first struck him with a Starlight Palm to send him staggering back. He counter attacked, but she ducked. Phason¨¦, still standing behind him, caught his arm and pinned it before he could strike again. Opening him up perfectly to Vayra¡¯s pistol. She fired a condensed beam of Starlight out, catching him on the shoulder. He warded his tunic, blocking the main site of the blast, but she flicked her wrist to the side, dragging the beam of light across his body faster than he could react. It left a slice of burnt, cauterized flesh down his flank, and behind it, turned the sand to glass. Any reasonable person would¡¯ve surrendered, but he ripped his arm free from Phason¨¦¡¯s grip and tried to slam one more containing hammer of force down on her. She jumped to the side, dodging the main brunt of the attack. It pinned her mechanical foot, shattering the wooden panels covering it. Phason¨¦ punched him in the back as hard as she could, sending him staggering forward, and Vayra lined up her pistol beneath his chin. As he fell, she launched one more concentrated beam through it. It shot up, straight through his head, and blasted high into the sky¡ªabove the arena¡¯s top ring¡ªbefore it dissipated. She fell back on her hands, panting, and Kalos collapsed beside her, dead and unmoving. Karmion hovered high above the arena, raising walls of water to block any incoming bursts of debris from harming the crowds. A flick of a finger here, and wave of a hand there. His control of the water had been tempered over hundreds of years. He didn¡¯t think about Arcara or mana. Manipulating his energies was like breathing. But it meant he had more attention to spare on the fight below him. Kelos was supposed to destroy her. The first round? He had hoped that in a fair fight, the Commodore would succeed, but she¡¯d closed the distance too fast. So Karmion had promised fortunes, not to mention entire star systems of domain and control, to Kelos, in order to betray the rules of the tournament and smear his own honour¡ªif only the boy would attack prematurely and kill her. He could gain the upper hand. And for a little while, he did. But it wasn¡¯t enough. She pummelled him, too fast to manage. Each of her palm strikes sent up a cloud of sand and a wave of debris into the crowd, and Karmion had to spare a thought or two to block them. She¡¯d melted a pattern of glass into the arena floor, and when she¡¯d darted across, she created a sonic boom that Karmion had to consciously cycle Arcara to contain. His heartbeat sped up, but he hadn¡¯t lost yet. Before she slew his champion, he turned around and floated back to his tower, bearing himself upon a cloud of moisture. He floated down through the open wall of the viewing level, where his Admirals and advisors stood, watching the fight. And Larra, who waited at the very back of the room, leaning against the wall. She stood in the shadow of a doorframe, letting the others mill about in front of her. Before her excursion on Harvest Sanctuary, she¡¯d have been mingling amongst the others, telling Admirals where to stand and ordering them to step out of her way. ¡°You advanced to Commodore?¡± he demanded. ¡°I did,¡± she whispered. ¡°Advance to Admiral, and then we¡¯ll speak. Can you defeat her?¡± ¡°I¡¯m improving your technique daily.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not good enough,¡± Karmion stated. ¡°Leave, and keep working. And tell Varion to enter on your way out.¡± ¡°Yes, Father,¡± she said, bowing her head, then pushing off the wall and turning to the door. She heaved it open and stepped outside. A different child of Karmion¡¯s waited outside. Larra whispered to him, his silhouette, and beckoned for him to enter. Flanked on all sides by Admirals, Karmion approached the table at the center of the room. His older descendants, some of them with graying hair and long beards, stood around the table. He recognized grandchildren, great grandchildren, and even a descendant so many times removed that Karmion couldn¡¯t count the relation or the line that brought the boy back up to him¡ªonly that the boy was strong. They all wore black coats, and the most distinguished wore cloaks with ocean foam at the hem. But Varion was a different breed. He¡¯d consistently veiled himself down to Commodore for the sake of the tournament, for ease of entering, and pretended to advance to Commodore later. Though, even now, he was on the brink of reaching Admiral. Unlike the others, he wore a frost-dusted fur cloak, the hide of a beast he¡¯d slain on the ice planet of Norpath. He wore no wig, rather, let his long red hair spill down his back freely. He¡¯d been the product of some affair long ago, with a mortal who¡¯d died and whose name Karmion had forgotten¡ªthat was where the hair colour came from. He was only slightly shorter than Karmion, and as slender as a God-heir could be. His staff-length battle axe swayed and clinked on his back as he approached the table. ¡°What do you ask of me, father?¡± Varion bowed his head respectfully and placed his hands on the table. ¡°You are my failsafe.¡± Karmion tapped the table, and an attendant set down a sheet of blank parchment, then passed him an inkwell and quill. Karmion snatched up the quill and scrawled down a few lines. ¡°There are five more matches before the victor will be decided.¡± He pulled over a different sheet, which displayed a current potential bracket. ¡°The Mediator¡¯s next fight? We have it planned. She should face a God-heir suitable to counter her abilities, but that hasn¡¯t stopped her before. I will switch your fights up. If you win your next few fights, you will face the Mediator before the final match.¡± ¡°Father, it doesn¡¯t matter where I face her. I will win.¡± ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯d prefer to not have to worry about her in the final round.¡± Karmion rolled his eyes. Better to have backup plans upon backup plans. ¡°And the sooner someone knocks her out of this tournament, the better.¡± ¡°Understood. In the presence of your will, I am blank and empty. I am a sword for your use, and nothing more.¡± ¡°Apology accepted. Now, leave us.¡± Chapter 28: From a Distance [Volume 4] Vayra¡¯s fight had started in the morning, and she had to sit through a slew of other fights before Glade¡¯s began at sunset. There were still about thirty fights to get through in this round, but given multiple days, it didn¡¯t seem like such an outlandish proposal. At least they were on the first day of the round, and it¡¯d give them plenty of time to investigate Karmion¡¯s ship afterward. She just had to get through the day, sitting up in the viewing gallery of King Tallerion¡¯s tower while icing her strained muscles and back¡ªfrom resisting the pressure Kelos had placed on her. She stood at the brink of the overlook, leaning on the railing with one arm while using her mechanical hand to hold the brick of ice. (It had been from a tray of drinks served to the most esteemed guests in the higher rings of the arena¡¯s audience, but she¡¯d snagged it on her way up to the tower.) Her mechanical fingers didn¡¯t sting from the cold, so it was perfect for holding ice. Right after her fight, the lapin woman from the party at the Grand Continental Inn fought her next opponent. Ameena? ¡®Yes, Ameena,¡¯ Phason¨¦ confirmed. She planted her staff in the ground like she was stabbing a giant beast, then used it as a platform to launch high kicks off of. Portable high ground. But her true power came from her ability to¡­unheal. According to Glade, she had healing abilities. She could transfer Arcara and stimulate someone¡¯s flesh, telling it to knit back together, but when she landed a strike with a kick, she could also do the opposite. She left swathes of bruises and scraped away flesh, and almost a light rot, even from glancing blows. But the higher they climbed, the stronger the opponents were. She won her first round, lost the second, and won the third, just barely scraping out a victory against a half-dwarven man with a heavy warhammer and the ability to manipulate gunpowder. A few fights later, Myrrir arrived for his fight. He pummelled an elven woman with a flurry of blows, cold and brutal as ever, until he forced her into submission twice in a row. She surrendered, and they parted both times. The second time, Myrrir tried to bow to the woman in respect, but she was already walking away. ¡°Could be performative,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°He knows we¡¯re watching.¡± ¡®If he was telling the truth about Karmion¡¯s weapon, what will you do then?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°It depends how close he was to the truth.¡± Phason¨¦ scoffed inside Vayra¡¯s head. ¡®I see. You haven¡¯t made up your mind.¡¯ ¡°You didn¡¯t need to ask me to determine that.¡± Glade glanced at her curiously, but then one of the palace guards summoned him for his next fight, and with a nod, he backed away. He wouldn¡¯t enter the arena right away; he¡¯d wait one more round, given a chance to prepare and get in place. In the meantime, the current contestants¡ªthe fighters after Myrrir and the elf¡ªentered the arena. Larra marched out into the arena, wearing her coat, but no cloak, and carrying her three-part staff as a bunched-up lump instead of activating it. ¡®She¡¯s a Commodore now, too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Indeed¡­¡± Vayra whispered. She shifted the block of ice around to her lower back and directed more Arcara to the site of the strain, healing her body faster. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re up against, then.¡± Larra¡¯s opponent approached from the other side of the arena. He was a wood-wielder, one of Vallor¡¯s children, and what looked to be a set of seven training sabers floated behind him. Sawdust swirled on their edges, and their hilts had been carved like the hull of a longboat. He tilted his hat toward Larra, then spoke. When Vayra strained her ears, she thought she picked up a simple acknowledgement: ¡°Cousin.¡± ¡°Cousin?¡± Vayra asked. ¡®The big three of the High Pantheon¡ªKarmion, Brann?l, and Vallor¡ªare all brothers and sisters, by blood,¡¯ Phason¨¦ explained. ¡®The others ascended through their different lineages, and replaced old Gods and Goddesses who perished. At this point, their bloodlines are so different that they don¡¯t resemble their original member of the Pantheon at all.¡¯ Vayra nodded slowly, then turned her attention back to the fight. A trumpet blared, and immediately, Larra held up a hand, like she was lifting something off the ground. Something heavy. In her spiritual sight, Vayra picked up swirls of Arcara brimming on Larra¡¯s fingertips, much brighter than any other energy around. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Her opponent, announced by Karmion as Dane-Lee, moved forward like he was trying to run through thigh-deep water. Larra held back his blood, slowing him and making each step he took twice as strenuous. But she¡¯d done that before, and to Dane-Lee¡¯s credit, he resisted¡ªor pushed through¡ªbetter than Vayra thought he would. And his swords, disconnected from his body, whirled behind him. They flared out in all directions and shot toward Larra, harassing her from a distance without even needing to close the ground. She deflected them all with her staff, but they kept swirling about, poking and slashing. One cut through the shoulder of her coat and drew a spatter of blood. She just kept moving. She clenched her fist, snatching up an invisible object, then threw Dane-Lee to the ground without touching him. Another of his swords ripped through her leg, drawing a spatter of blood, but she redirected it into a whip, controlling it effortlessly, like it was no different than any other water. ¡°She¡¯s¡­she¡¯s better with free-flowing blood,¡± Vayra commented. ¡°If she can see it, she can control it. Otherwise, it¡¯s like she¡¯s trying to just manipulate a giant boulder.¡± ¡®Visualization is important for your abilities,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®You work better when you can see what you¡¯re doing with the starlight. Same goes for her when it comes to blood.¡¯ ¡°So don¡¯t bleed¡­¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°Easier said than done.¡± ¡®Never said it¡¯d be easy.¡¯ Phasone paused for a few seconds, then added, ¡®Karmion wouldn¡¯t have us fight her last. She¡¯s lost to us once, and he won¡¯t trust her. At least, not enough to let everything rest on her shoulders.¡¯ ¡°So we¡¯ll face her sooner than later?¡± Vayra swallowed. ¡°Not much of a reassurance.¡± They watched the rest of the match in silence. Larra¡¯s opponent fought up to the very end, manipulating his swords while keeping his chin high. The longer the battle went, the more he bled. Some of his veins ruptured, bruising him. When his arm turned a sickly brown-purple, it started working against him, dragging him back and away and trying to pin him. He never gave up, not even in his final moments, when a vessel in his neck ruptured from the inside, blood blasting outward like a knife. His head lolled to the side, and he collapsed on the spot. Vayra shut her eyes and turned away from the sight. ¡°We need to practice the internal Warding more.¡± ¡®I couldn¡¯t agree more.¡¯ The guards dragged away Dane-Lee¡¯s body, and within moments, the next fight began¡ªGlade against another man. He was humanoid, but he had bone-white skin and ridges along his bald head, like perfectly straight wrinkles, except vertical. They culminated in braided tendrils that ran all the way down his back. Vayra was pretty sure he only had two natural arms, like all humans, but he hunched over under the weight of two extra arm-shaped limbs sprouting from his back. They were like her own mechanical arm, and shaped exactly like arms, except they had no wooden panelling on their exterior. Just wooden bone, starsteel wires, string tendons, and the odd armour plate where they needed protection. In each of his hands, he held a straight saber. Lightning and electricity crackled along their thin, silver blades. ¡°Well¡­¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°Four swords against one? Two, with the swordwyrm. They¡¯re picking opponents they think will be strong against him, too.¡± Phason¨¦ snorted. ¡®If they think they¡¯ll defeat an Order of Balance swordsman with someone who isn¡¯t a sword-Path user, they¡¯re sorely mistaken.¡¯ ¡°He¡¯s a God-heir,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Glade¡¯s only¡­what, twenty? Twenty one? I¡¯d bet his opponent is at least five times as old. Experience has to count for something when it comes to swords.¡± ¡®We¡¯ll see. Remember what I said about God-heirs, though. Their experience is overrated.¡¯ The start trumpet blared, and Glade¡¯s opponent (named Nekarme), flourished his swords at his side, whipping up four gyres of white lightning. He pointed one blade over his shoulder with a mechanical arm and fired a bolt of lightning at Glade. Glade jumped aside and rolled, then sprang back up and dove into the fight. He pointed his sword high and lunged, then set a chain of quick swipes upon his foe. Vayra couldn¡¯t track them; they were moving too fast. She caught every third or fourth movement. He always found a way to use up two of his opponent¡¯s swords, while styling light on his feet and dancing around to the other side, then slipping back out of the way. The swordwyrm occupied another limb, and if the fourth saber ever drew close to Glade, he knocked it aside with a blast of metal filings. Bolts of lightning seared down from the empty air above, and the God-heir drew power from a contained sphere of cloud hovering on the left side of the arena¡ªenough to fuel the heir¡¯s abilities and keep the fight fair. But from the outside, it didn¡¯t look fair. Glade crushed his opponent in a half minute, breaking through his defensive sword guards and navigating close enough to place his own blade up against the man¡¯s neck. When the second round began, Nekarme attacked more aggressively right from the start, exposing his additional, mechanical limbs. Glade slit the strings and sliced through their starsteel wires in a few quick slashes, disabling the limbs, then knocked the swords out of the God-heir¡¯s grip. With a final, powerful swipe, he struck his opponent with the flat of his blade and sent him skidding back across the arena. Nekarme stood up, panting and disarmed, and bowed out immediately. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to bet against him,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But I wasn¡¯t expecting it to be that fast.¡± ¡®Glade has focussed on learning the sword, and just the sword, for every waking hour of his life¡­for at least the past ten years, if not longer. Do you think a God-heir ever put in as much rigorous practice and effort?¡¯ ¡°I¡­¡± Vayra shook her head. ¡°Even if he did, he¡¯d have split his attention between that and advancing his magic.¡± ¡®Exactly.¡¯ ¡°But if we can figure that out, then so can Karmion.¡± ¡®That means we have him right where we want him. He¡¯s too focussed on you that he won¡¯t panic about Glade¡ªuntil it¡¯s too late.¡¯ Vayra chewed her bottom lip. A blessing in disguise, perhaps, but she still had to make it through the tournament. And, speaking of Karmion, they had a boat to stalk. Chapter 29: Tracking [Volume 4] By the time they reached Shatterport, only a sliver of the sun peered over the horizon. The wharf lanterns flickered to life, and workers strode past in candlelight, carrying crates or rolling barrels. Cargo ships sloshed in and out of berths as quickly as the crews could unload and load them, and wagons rushed in and out of the city in orderly, neat lines. Vayra, Nathariel, and Glade walked along the wharf in a tight cluster, approaching the flotilla of Velaydian warships still anchored in port. She tried to look like she belonged, but if anyone had been following the tournament, they¡¯d recognize her. And if they hadn¡¯t been, the three of them would still stand out as God-heirs. They didn¡¯t wear the plain, tattered rags of dock workers. But travelling to their ship wasn¡¯t wrong or against the rules. As long as the Harmony made it into port safe and sound, they¡¯d be ready to set off. When they reached the Velaydian piers, when they stepped over a threshold from cobblestone to rotted wood, a group of bluecoats and Shattered Moon guards intercepted them. The guards fanned out into a wide line, and the bluecoats stood behind them¡ªlooking intimidating, and carrying their muskets, but not posing nearly as much of a threat. ¡°This area of the dock is off limits,¡± one of the guards said. ¡°Please turn back and return to the city.¡± Vayra pulled down the hood of her cloak and stepped forward. ¡°Apologies, but we need to get to our ship. I left some equipment offworld, and I would like to retrieve it.¡± That, of course, was a lie. ¡°Contestants are allowed to leave the planet mid-tournament,¡± Nathariel provided. ¡°So long as they return in time for their next fight, or, at their own peril, risk forfeiting the match.¡± The guards didn¡¯t flinch, but they did stay silent for a few seconds. Finally, the leader, a man with a single epaulet over his blue jade armour, stepped forward. ¡°I did not recognize the Velaydian team. Forgive me. You may pass.¡± Vayra blinked a few times. ¡°I was¡­expecting more resistance.¡± ¡°We are here to maintain the peace, ma¡¯am,¡± said the guard. Bluecoats weren¡¯t, but that was beside the question. They must have been for support, or otherwise to observe the Velaydian fleet and ensure that they didn¡¯t act out of turn. ¡°Just making sure no fights break out, and that no rogue contestants seek to harm a ship or a soul outside the arena on this consecrated ground,¡± the guard continued. He swept his arm to the side, holding his glaive up in the crook of his elbow. The bluecoats and subordinate guards stepped to the sides, providing a channel for Vayra and the others to pass through. She, Glade, and Nathariel walked down the pier, then crossed over a walkway to a separate batch of juts, where the lower-rated Velaydian ships bobbed up and down¡ªnot just the men of war. ¡°See the Harmony anywhere?¡± she whispered. A bunch of small frigates in Velaydian colours¡ªbeiges and blues, with black ornaments and brown hulls¡ªwaited at the docks, ready to protect the king¡¯s fleet and deploy quickly into the waves if needed. The Harmony, a galleon, would be about their size, but its golden ornaments and lighter-coloured hull would stand out. ¡°No, but I know who does,¡± Glade said, then pointed out along the pier at a pair of redmarines who walked in the opposite direction. One was an elf, and the other was a dwarf, and they were too busy staring at each other to notice Vayra and Glade walking the opposite direction. ¡°So you agree that a sandwich is something between bread, yes?¡± the dwarf, Mr. Tressdott asked. ¡°Yes, two slices of bread,¡± Mr. Kertogg, the elf, countered. ¡°Slices, not a half-cut bun or a folded piece of bread. Wrapping a sausage in a single piece of bread doesn¡¯t make it a sandwich.¡± ¡°Pedantics.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a single piece of bread versus two slices of bread. It absolutely isn¡¯t!¡± ¡°Just because you pointy-ears can¡¯t comprehend the full glory of a wiener in a bun¡ª¡± ¡°Gentlemen,¡± Nathariel said, approaching the two. ¡°Let¡¯s keep it down, shall we?¡± Vayra ran to catch up, then asked, ¡°Where is the Harmony?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­at the end of the row,¡± Mr. Kertogg said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. ¡°Now, this cave-dweller was supposed to be keeping his eyes out for you. This is on him, not me!¡± The dwarf crossed his arms. ¡°Captain Pels specifically told you to, with your elf eyes and all.¡± ¡°I thought your kind were supposed to see well in the dark!¡± ¡°There are lanterns all around.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°We are heading to the ship,¡± Glade said, marching down the pier. ¡°If you two aren¡¯t back aboard by the time we leave, you will be left behind.¡± They ran down to the end of the pier, as far as they could go, until the Harmony¡¯s bowsprit peered out between a pair of frigates. The jib was still half-raised, ready to catch the wind, and the crew waited at the railings, still in sailing positions. Vayra sprinted up the gangway first, followed closely by Glade and Nathariel, then, lastly, the two marines. When they reached the main deck, Captain Pels was waiting. He stood at the base of the quarterdeck stairs, his coat open, a hand resting on the grip of his pistol. ¡°Where are we heading? What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°How well can you track a ship along the Stream without them noticing?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°We¡¯re going to follow Karmion¡¯s flagship.¡± Pels raised his eyebrows. ¡°A little dangerous, no? Are you going to face him once and for all? You¡¯ve¡­advanced? However you folk call it?¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± she said. ¡°We need to know if he¡¯s making a weapon.¡± ¡°A Mediator-slaying weapon,¡± Nathariel added. ¡°I can track his ship,¡± Pels said. ¡°If we want to stay out of sight, we¡¯ll have to keep our distance. We¡¯ll keep the lights dark. But I¡¯ll need your eyes. Or the Admiral¡¯s. Whoever has better sight.¡± ¡°That would be either Vayra or Glade,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Us?¡± Glade tilted his head. ¡°Aye. Nathariel reached up and tapped his left eye. Though it looked mostly normal, it let off a glassy, handbell-like chime when he tapped it, and orange sparks fell off. It was Moulded Arcara. ¡°Had this guy replaced long ago, and my vision has never been the same since. It¡¯s about as good as a Captain¡¯s.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°Alright. Glade and I will watch from the bow?¡± ¡°Just give us directions.¡± Pels reached up and scratched the stubble on his chin, then tucked his head down into his neck-wrap. Officers were supposed to be clean-shaven, after all. ¡°Karmion won¡¯t sense us?¡± ¡®Not on the Stream, he won¡¯t,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The Stream muddles one¡¯s senses, even a God¡¯s.¡¯ ¡°According to Phason¨¦, we¡¯ll be fine,¡± Vayra provided. ¡®You don¡¯t have to qualify it like that¡­¡¯ ¡°Just covering myself in case you¡¯re wrong.¡± She could practically imagine the Goddess rolling her eyes. ¡®If, somehow, he has gained an ability to pick you out among the spiritual currents of the Stream, we¡¯ll be dead, and you won¡¯t get to complain.¡¯ ¡°Or that. Doesn¡¯t sound likely.¡± Vayra and Glade ran to the bow, Nathariel stayed midships, and Captain Pels returned to the stern. The ship pulled away from the berth and sailed out halfway across the harbour before heaving to among a cluster of enormous three-deck spice haulers. Unless anyone was looking closely, they wouldn¡¯t see the Harmony, but Vayra and Glade had a perfect view across the harbour. In the evening, the spirit-water basin clinging to the edge of the continent-sized floating island glowed faintly, making every ship¡¯s hull glow a faint blue. In the distance, the water rushed off the edge of the island, turning to a mist at the edge of the sea, but the Stream replaced any water that flowed away. Of the many ships in the harbour, she and Glade picked out Karmion¡¯s Cardinal Arrant immediately. It was the only Elderworld warship with blue ornaments on its stern windows¡ªspelling out its name, but also boasting about who owned it. It was a three-decked first-rate ship, with black and white stripes along its flanks and beige gun ports. Its masts stood twice the height of its hull, each bearing an Elderworld flag and a half-unfurled mainsail. The Cardinal Arrant pulled out of its berth and sailed across the harbour, making its routine nightly cruise. ¡°Myrrir was right about that, then,¡± said Glade. ¡°A small mercy,¡± Vayra replied. ¡°We can follow him, but how will we detect if he¡¯s making a weapon?¡± ¡°How did Myrrir do it?¡± ¡°If he did.¡± ¡®He watched and observed carefully,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®The Stream doesn¡¯t interfere with your spiritual sight. And Arcara flashes look different in spiritual sight. If he¡¯s forging something, you¡¯ll notice.¡¯ The Cardinal Arrant approached the Stream directly, catching the wind and sailing across the harbour. Its Streamrunning fins dipped, and its prow pushed onto the frayed end of the Stream, preparing to ascend into the heavens. ¡°Pels!¡± Vayra called. ¡°Follow them! That ship! The first rate man of war heading for the Stream!¡± Nathariel relayed her words back to the quarterdeck. The Harmony¡¯s sails angled back into the wind, and the galleon sloshed out of cover, chasing behind. The Harmony was generally faster, but if the Cardinal Arrant made it to the Stream too far ahead of them, it¡¯d accelerate to intergalactic speeds before Vayra could even glimpse it. But that¡¯s why they had Captain Pels. The Harmony¡¯s crew dropped the sails entirely, and though the ship groaned, it sloshed off across the harbour faster than any regular ship could. When they reached the Stream¡¯s base, the Cardinal Arrant rode the enormous river up through the atmosphere, but it had only gotten a few miles ahead. Pels and the crew dropped the Harmony¡¯s Streamrunning fins, catching the currents of rushing spirit water and setting them off quickly. But if they travelled too quickly, they¡¯d overtake the Cardinal Arrant, and it¡¯d all be for nothing. ¡°Hold up!¡± Glade called, likely having the same idea. ¡°Reef the sails slightly! Aim for twenty teraknots!¡± The journey up the Stream, through the atmosphere of the Shattered Moon, was rough and bumpy¡ªrougher than usual. The Stream¡¯s connection to the Shattered Moon was withering over the years, and it¡¯d only been getting worse lately. But when they passed the outer shell of the planet¡¯s broken crust, the Stream re-congealed into a cohesive mass. The Gossamyr sails carried them faster than any other substance, and though the Harmony wasn¡¯t sailing at its top speed, the stars still whipped into a blur around them. Vayra kept her eyes locked on the Cardinal Arrant, watching for any sign of Arcara. She tensed the muscles around her eyes, activating her spiritual sight. The Stream glowed and whirled below her, like a road passing at high speeds, but Karmion¡¯s warship shone a clear, bright blue. And then its windows began flashing. Chapter 30: The Cardinal Arrant [Volume 4] ¡°Do you see that?¡± Vayra asked Glade. ¡°I see it!¡± he replied. They both stood at the very front railing of the ship, clinging to it and holding tight as sailors scrambled around and the ship sloshed through the Stream. Though to mortal eyes, the Cardinal Arrant would¡¯ve only looked like a speck on the Stream ahead, Vayra could pick out more minute details¡ªespecially in her spiritual sight. Its stern windows glowed a bright blue, brighter than the Stream or even the aura of Karmion¡¯s presence. ¡°I¡¯ll watch the patterns,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Phason¨¦ and I will. Can you direct Pels and make sure we stay on the right branch of the Stream?¡± ¡°It will be done,¡± Glade said. As best Vayra could tell, they were taking a loop through the nearby star systems, travelling what would amount to a few hundred lightyears. Supposedly, it was because Karmion needed the constant strength of the Stream water to maintain the forging process. To maintain a direct flow of energy, and to keep a half-formed weapon from collapsing in on itself. ¡°They are turning! Galactic North!¡± Glade yelled. ¡°Take the lefthand branch!¡± Nathariel, who stood halfway across the main deck, relayed the order back to the mortal crewmen on the quarterdeck. She trusted Glade to not drive them off course. ¡®Vayra, the flashing windows,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Pay attention.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m trying.¡± The Cardinal Arrant¡¯s stern windows lit up in her spiritual vision with a blue flash, though (as she half-detected with her regular eyes) it would¡¯ve appeared just like any normal orange-yellow flame light to a mortal. ¡°What am I looking for?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°What are the telltale signs of Moulding?¡± For all she knew, that burst of light could¡¯ve just been from a pulse of Arcara, from a Reach technique activating. ¡®Look for explusions of perfectly straight beams. As the Arcara crystalized, its spiritual radiation slips through its rigid structure in tighter formations. Like you¡¯re looking at a torch and squinting.¡¯ Vayra actually squinted, but as it turned out, that made everything streaky and elongated all the lights¡ªand before Phason¨¦ could complain, she thought, I know you didn¡¯t actually tell me to squint. Sorry. A whiff of amused irritation still radiated off the Goddess and into Vayra¡¯s mind, but that was better than raw disappointment. The energy sliced out with a steady rhythm, like a blacksmith pounding on metal. At first, the patterns swirled, like clouds of vibrant blue pipe smoke exhaling from the window¡¯s lips, but the longer she watched, the straighter the beams became. Tendrils reached out in lines, expanding away from the centerpoint of the Cardinal Arrant. And then, finally, after a few minutes of sailing, the lines entirely straightened out, turning into what Phason¨¦ had described. Perfectly straight beams, like squinting, or the flare of sunlight through a spyglass¡ªexcept she was watching it with her bare spiritual vision. ¡°Myrrir was right,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°He is forging a weapon?¡± Glade asked. Phason¨¦ said, ¡®He is Moulding something¡ªpermanently. If it isn¡¯t a weapon, and if it doesn¡¯t confirm Myrrir¡¯s comments, then I don¡¯t know what does.¡¯ Contemplating the implications, Vayra swallowed then said, ¡°We should turn back. Return to Shatterport and¡ª¡± ¡°He is turning!¡± Glade called out. ¡°He is taking a branch into Summerfall!¡± ¡°Summerfall?¡± Vayra asked. Ahead, the Stream branched. One path led off into deepspace, and another toward a nearby star. It shone slightly brighter than the others. Karmion was sailing to the nearest star. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°It is a sparsely-populated sugarcane farming planet at the edge of the Shatter Sector,¡± Glade provided. ¡°He has no reason to head there.¡± ¡°Clearly, he does¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°We need to find out.¡± ¡°Slow down!¡± Glade called. ¡°He is slowing down to enter the system, too!¡± The Harmony took the same branch of the Stream as the Cardinal Arrant, and Pels pulled the Streamrunning fins up a few notches before reefing the sails and pulling to the edge of the Windlane. The star expanded. It was an average yellow star, and Summerfall was an average world in the habitable zone, with expansive blue oceans and lime-green landmasses, icy poles and swathes of forest. From an astronomic overview, only a small fraction of its surface had been turned to farmland¡ªthe land closest to the Stream, which, even from high above, appeared a flaxen wheat-yellow. ¡°Karmion isn¡¯t stopping for a snack, is he?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®I doubt it.¡¯ ¡°Does this have to do with the weapon?¡± ¡®We¡¯ll find out.¡¯ The Cardinal Arrant slowed as it descended through the atmosphere, and the Harmony matched its speed, maintaining a vast distance between them. The flashes of light¡ªreal and spiritual¡ªstopped flowing from its stern, and the Harmony slowed even more. If Karmion stopped forging, there was a greater chance he was up on his ship¡¯s deck, watching his surroundings. The Stream levelled out and merged with the planet¡¯s ocean. It was close to the shore, only a half-hour voyage away. Close enough that Karmion could bring his ship ashore, do whatever he needed, and return to the Shattered Moon before morning. Vayra and Glade watched the shore carefully. Karmion¡¯s ship didn¡¯t sail into a port. There likely weren¡¯t any on the planet large enough to host a ship as large as the Cardinal Arrant, but the nearest bay to the Stream was deep enough to host a few cargo vessels¡ªanchored offshore, of course. Farm worlds always exported produce, and at all times of the day. The Harmony would have no trouble slipping into the ships at the port. Still, Pels skirted the edge of the bay, approaching a stout city perching on the shore. Its buildings had simple thatched roofs and daubed walls, though a few of the port warehouses had clay tile shingles that shone red in the light of the planet¡¯s two gray moons. Pels slipped the Harmony between a pair of bland, unmarked cargo haulers, each with a double deck of defensive cannons and heaps of barrels and crates on their decks. They hid the Harmony from sight perfectly. ¡°Veil yourselves,¡± Nathariel instructed, running up to the forecastle, where Vayra and Phason¨¦ stood. Vayra held her Arcara still and stopped it from cycling, muting her spiritual presence. If Karmion looked really hard, he could still probably sense them, but she hoped he wasn¡¯t concentrating. He¡¯d have no reason to think he was being followed. The Cardinal Arrant anchored at the opposite side of the port, and Karmion leapt off the quarterdeck. He flew ashore on a cloud of mist, moving fast as a bird. ¡°Glade?¡± Vayra whispered, even though she didn¡¯t need to. ¡°Can you fly and follow him? I¡¯ll keep up with you on the ground, and so will Nathariel.¡± The Admiral nodded dutifully. Vayra swung over the railing and activated the Astral Shroud. Before reaching Commodore, or even Captain, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to use a technique while veiled. But the Astral Shroud¡¯s Arcara movements could be restrained, and though it wasn¡¯t as strong as usual, that restricted its spiritual radiation. No one would pick up on her as easily. When she hit the water, she half-kicked and half sprinted, skimming along the surface with her speed. Glade leapt over the forecastle railing and swung the swordwyrm under him, then took off, following Karmion at a distance. With his black coat, he mostly blended into the night sky¡ªand Karmion wasn¡¯t looking back. Nathariel used a Bracing technique on his legs, wrapping them in coils of flame, and sprinted off after Vayra. Though, normally, his Brace wouldn¡¯t have been as fast as the Astral Shroud, he kept up, maintaining his veil effortlessly. He had centuries more experience than her. Arcara control wasn¡¯t something that just improved through advancement. Vayra skimmed ashore and leapt up onto a pier. She lost sight of Karmion, but Glade still streamed through the sky above. She caught the occasional glint of the swordwyrm or flash of white hair. She ducked and wove between the dock workers with impeccable precision, slipping between barrels and crates and vaulting over wagons. In a flash, she and Nathariel entered the streets, following below Glade as best they could. Her feet pounded on the cobblestones, and the two-storey buildings whipped past her face in a blur. When Glade turned, so did she. The buildings became darker the further inland they travelled. Vines crawled up the walls, windows were boarded over, and eaves drooped into scowls. The streets emptied, save for feral cats and dirt-smeared vagrants. Then, without warning, he dipped, dropping down between a pair of buildings and diving toward an abandoned warehouse that stood a few storeys higher than the rest. Vayra shut the Astral Shroud away and veiled herself as tightly as she could, and Nathariel¡¯s Brace guttered out as well. She pressed her back up against an abandoned storefront adjacent to the old warehouse, then craned her neck up. Glade and the swordwyrm circled around the warehouse¡¯s exterior before dropping down beside Vayra and Nathariel. ¡°Karmion went inside,¡± he said. ¡°Whatever he came here for, it is in there.¡± ¡°Then we follow him in.¡± Vayra pushed away from the wall. ¡°We came all this way. If he¡¯s up to something, we need to know.¡± Chapter 31: A New Horde [Volume 3] Going in the front entrance was too risky. That much was obvious. Finding another way in was the harder part. They circled around the edge of the warehouse, hunting for weak spots or obvious holes in the wall that they could enter through. Debris cluttered the exterior, heaping up against its walls like drifts of snow¡ªbarrels, crates, overturned wagons, and old farming equipment. A cluster of bluecoats patrolled the exterior, their muskets clattering, and a pair stood at every corner. Their masks hid precisely where they were looking, but their heads swivelled side-to-side. They were watching their territory, that much was certain. Vayra, Nathariel, and Glade kept to the shadows, ducking behind piles of rubble and leaping from cover to cover. Then, finally, when they snuck around a corner, they came within sight of a broad, open window. Faint orange light spilled out of it. If they could get up, they were in. Vayra scrambled up onto a pile of bricks, then sprang up the wall, grasping exposed beams and jutting rockwork. She hoisted her legs over a gutter, then hauled herself up to the window. Keeping low, she pulled herself through. Glade and Nathariel sprang up a moment later, relying solely on the strength of their enhanced bodies to do what years of climbing had taught her. Through the window, they emerged on a thin wooden catwalk. It spanned over the center of the warehouse, running from one side of the central, open space to the other. Lanterns hung off it, illuminating the floorspace below, and holes in the roof allowed moonlight through. Vayra pressed her back against the wall beside the window, and Nathariel and Glade did the same moments later. Two storeys below, through the gaps in the catwalk boarding, a hundred unconscious bodies lay strewn across the floor in neat lines. Almost exactly like what Larra had done. ¡®Like father, like daughter,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I don¡¯t imagine he needs to test his blood magic,¡± Vayra whispered. Each of the unconscious bodies had brown hair of different shades, and they all wore coats like Karmion and Larra. ¡°Scan their spirits,¡± Nathariel breathed. ¡°Tell me I¡¯m not the only one seeing this.¡± Vayra shut her eyes, first trying to detect if they had any spiritual presence. Each one of them radiated the strength and purity of a Commodore, though it didn¡¯t travel very far. She hadn¡¯t even thought of them, or felt an abnormal tingle or pressure before entering the warehouse. A hundred Commodores should¡¯ve felt like something. She opened her eyes and scanned their spirits, trying to observe their channels. They had Arcara, but no mana whatsoever. ¡°They are starving,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°They¡¯re decaying,¡± Nathariel replied. All the Commodores below were emaciated, gaunt, and pale, their every feature sunken. ¡°They¡¯re burning their bodies,¡± Vayra concluded. ¡°Slowly, so as to not destroy themselves completely, but they¡¯re¡­still consuming their muscle.¡± ¡°Aye, and soon, they¡¯ll be all out.¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s making Ko-Ganall. Each one of those could wreak the same cataclysm as Hammontor. They¡¯d rip apart the entire sector, if not more.¡± ¡°How is the progress, Varion?¡± Karmion¡¯s voice boomed out through the warehouse, rumbling through the floor and shaking the catwalk. A man strode alongside Karmion¡ªa peak Commodore, in perfect condition, with a fur cloak and red hair. If he was a relative of Karmion¡¯s, he was distant. ¡°The volunteers are coming along. Your sons and daughters will be remembered long after their departure for their unflinching service.¡± ¡°Can it still be cut off?¡± Karmion asked, walking down on the bottom floor. He and Varion marched down the central aisle of the warehouse. ¡°This is our last resort.¡± ¡°You have three weeks before the process is irreversible,¡± Varion replied. ¡°At any moment, I can accelerate their activation, or at any moment, I can cancel them altogether¡ªI¡¯ll flood the building with Stream water, and their mana will refill. But if I hear nothing more from you, father, they will activate.¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°I¡¯d very much rather I not have to clean up the mess they make.¡± Karmion shook his head, then flicked one of the unconscious god-heir¡¯s shoulders. ¡°But these will be helpful if worst comes to¡ª¡± He stopped talking, and his head flicked up toward the catwalk, right where Vayra and Nathariel and Glade stood. ¡°Three presences. Up there.¡± Presences. He hadn¡¯t scanned them close enough to tell if they were God-heirs, or if they were anything but mortal. There was still time to escape. ¡®Run!¡¯ Phason¨¦ hissed in Vayra¡¯s mind. ¡®If we make it back to the Harmony, we¡¯re free.¡¯ The others had the same idea. As Vayra unveiled herself and activated her Astral Shroud, Glade leapt onto his swordwyrm and Nathariel activated his Bracing technique. They ran through the city, racing back to the shore and the harbour. There wasn¡¯t any specific course¡ªjust toward the shore, as fast as they could run. Vayra pulled ahead, taking the lead, but she had to wind through the streets. Glade still flew overhead, and if only slightly behind, he kept up. It was Nathariel who was the slowest of them all. But none of them were Gods. Karmion would catch up, and surely, he¡¯d want to. He¡¯d need to catch the intruders, or they¡¯d spread word of his plans. Or at least, that was how Vayra anticipated his process. She also anticipated him charging in and annihilating the three of them, or at the very least, snapping them up with tendrils of water, or reaching out and manipulating their blood, halting them where they stood. She activated her internal Warding technique, for what good it might do. Nothing reached out and stirred up her blood, or tugged on her like a magnet. When they reached the wharf, Vayra stopped and looked back. Nathariel was a few streets behind, now, but he didn¡¯t look concerned. A blast of condensed water raced down from the sky, fast as a cannonball and with such pressure that it could sever even an Admiral¡¯s limb. It shot straight for Nathariel Nathariel batted it aside, his forearm coated in flame. A burst of steam erupted out of the impact, but the jet of water subsided, and Nathariel was unharmed. He stopped where he stood, at an intersection three streets away from the wharf, staring up at the sky. Was that¡­a smirk? Karmion floated overhead on a cloud of mist. A watery orb floated over his shoulder, ready for him to draw on if needed. The onlookers, mortal civilians and dock workers still awake so late at night, scattered, running from the site of the clash between God-heirs¡ªat least, as they might have perceived it. ¡°Nathariel!¡± Vayra hollered, skittering backward across the wharf. Her boots, shrouded in white light, skittered over the stones until she came to a halt right in front of a bollard. The wharf dropped off to the sea, leaving her hanging almost right over the edge. Glade circled in the sky above, watching. ¡°Nathariel, run!¡± Vayra shouted. ¡°No,¡± he said, his voice calm and low, despite his Bracing technique bolstering his voice box and projecting his words further than usual. ¡°You run.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t¡ª¡± Glade swooped down and stopped in front of her. ¡°Vayra, he is giving us a chance to escape. Take it.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll kill you!¡± she yelled. Karmion fired another bolt of water, and it sailed high over Nathariel¡¯s head¡ªaiming right for Vayra and Glade. But as it passed over Nathariel, a bolt of flame reached up and intercepted it, turning it to a cloud of steam. Both Karmion and Nathariel became silhouettes in their newly-made fog. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think he will,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he can¡ªnot quickly.¡± ¡°What?¡± An Admiral against a God? It still wasn¡¯t a competition. But when Vayra scanned his spirit, analyzed it as close as she could, something was different. It was like his core was a hollow blanket, a perfect veil, but it was cracking. Were those the injuries he had spoken of, from his younger days of pushing himself too hard? But through the cracks, a greater power leaked. At the center of the orange, cracking, hollow orb was a vibrant marble of orange light, flickering like a bonfire. It bled into his channels, empowering his Arcara. ¡°Why isn¡¯t Karmion using his blood techniques?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡®But we need to get out. No waiting around, no bad choices. Get out before it¡¯s too late.¡¯ She clenched her fists, then took one last look back out at the ocean. Then another glance forward. ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel shouted. He flicked his arms out to the side, and his sash snapped. A column of concentrated water rushed at his chest, but he raised his forearms and blocked it with a shield of flame. The orange cup glowed, sparked, hissed, then shattered. The water would have struck hard enough to punch a hole in Vayra¡¯s chest, but it only blasted Nathariel back. He skidded through the ground, the paving stones shattering in a trench around him, until he collided with the wall of a tavern behind and came to a halt. The outer layer of his skin had been stripped away, and his chest heaved, but it hadn¡¯t destroyed him. Still, Karmion loomed over him, advancing, hovering closer. A net of water formed around each of his fists. But his eyes flicked toward Vayra and Glade. He threw out a knife-thin stream of water at each of them. Just as Vayra prepared her Ward, no matter how much or little it might do, the water fell out of the Reach technique¡¯s control. Nathariel blasted an arc of flame at Karmion, forcing the god to divert his attention and abandon the technique. ¡°Vayra!¡± Nathariel yelled. ¡°Learn your internal Warding! Improve it to its peak! When you win the next fight, request an audience with Farrir!¡± He deflected a blast of water into the ground. ¡°Go! I¡¯ll keep him busy!¡± With that, she turned away and leapt off the edge of the wharf. Chapter 32: Lyze [Volume 4] Vayra and Glade reached the Harmony in a matter of seconds. She skimmed over the surface of the water, then swung up onto the main deck and ran to the quarterdeck. By the time she reached the wheel hub, where Captain Pels and a coxswain stood, she deactivated the Astral Shroud. Glade and the swordwyrm flew over the stern railing, then landed in a crouch just behind Pels. ¡°We need to go!¡± Vayra called. ¡°Now!¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Pels demanded. ¡°Where¡¯s Nathariel?¡± ¡°He¡¯s holding them off! Go!¡± Pels ran to the front railing of the quarterdeck and leaned over. ¡°Full sail! For the Stream!¡± The planetary wind blew directly from the side, filling their sails in and out of the harbour, but it also gave ships on the western half of the half a free approach to the Harmony¡ªand a fast approach. An Elderworld galleon sloshed across the harbour, its bowsprit pointing directly at them. It was trying to cut off their escape. As soon as the Harmony sloshed out from between the cargo haulers it hid between, the galleon fired its bow cannons. One shot splashed into the water astern, and one ripped through the railing at the center of the ship, throwing up an explosion of splinters and debris. ¡°I¡¯ll Ward the hull,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I will disable their sails.¡± Glade dropped the swordwyrm down and hopped on it, then drew his own sword. ¡°Roll out the long guns!¡± Pels called. ¡°Aim for their Streamrunning fins and masts!¡± Vayra jumped down the quarterdeck stairs and ran to the center of the ship, just in front of the mainmast, then, with the last quarter of her mana, filled the hull of the Harmony with a shield. As the Elderworld galleon approached, its gunners adjusted. They wouldn¡¯t land a glancing blow this time. ¡°Hold steady!¡± Vayra yelled to the crew around. Most were sailors, but a few marines ran to the railing, loading their muskets and fastening their bayonets. A crew of gunners pushed a heavy cannon up to the rail. When their pursuer fired another volley from its bow cannons, she flinched. Plumes of smoke wafted from the ship¡¯s forecastle, on either side of its bowsprit, but the cannonballs thudded harmlessly against her shield. Then the gunners fired a volley back. Five, maybe six, cannons boomed, but they were the largest, longest cannons the Harmony had available. The cannonballs warbled through the sky and impacted their target with as much precision as a smoothbore weapon could. A few tore into the Elderworld galleon¡¯s flank, and another smashed the side windows of the captain¡¯s cabin. The rest dug into the Streamrunning fin, snapping its ropes and shattering its holding beams, and setting it to hang at an awkward angle. But in the atmosphere, it could still catch them. Vayra braced for another impact, holding her shield as long as she could. The bow cannons had to be ready soon. Her mouth dried, and she stopped sweating. Soon, she¡¯d be out of mana. The last volley burst from the bow cannons just as Vayra¡¯s mana slowed to a trickle, but she gave one last push. The cannonballs bit only a half-inch into the hull before she stopped them, but her shield fell instantly after. She fell to her hands and knees, black specks whirling in front of her eyes. Faintly, she registered Glade swooping past the galleon¡¯s white sails, dragging his sword through the sheets and slitting them open. Bluecoats fired volleys up at him, but he was too fast for their musketshot, and they weren¡¯t leading their shots. As the Harmony¡¯s bow curved up onto the Stream, matching the bend of the waterway, Glade raced back and landed on the quarterdeck. They¡¯d made it away, but just barely. ¡°What¡¯s Karmion doing?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°He tried to kill us. I thought¡ª¡± ¡°It is possible he didn¡¯t recognize us,¡± Glade said, running down the quarterdeck stairs to her side. ¡°If so, we are in a lot better shape.¡± ¡°He recognized us,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Nathariel called my name.¡± ¡®He was defending his assets,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He wouldn¡¯t have instigated the fight, so he wouldn¡¯t perceive a loss in honour. He took his chance. But now that we¡¯re gone, offworld¡­he won¡¯t come after us yet. Not personally.¡¯ Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°What was he doing with the Ko-Ganall?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Or¡­almost-Ko-Ganall?¡± ¡®He¡¯s worried. You have him nervous. But if he loses, he¡¯ll be petulant. If he thinks there¡¯s even a slim chance of failure, he¡¯ll flip the board and wipe out the sector, hopefully killing you in the chaos.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes. They¡¯d barely destroyed one Ko-Ganall. Without the help of a god, or without the strength of one, they¡¯d never deal with the rest. She repeated Phason¨¦¡¯s comments out loud for the benefit of Glade. ¡°Now he has us right where he needs us,¡± Glade said. ¡°We are stuck without our instructor, and if we advance too far, he¡¯ll come directly for us¡ªto fight us. And if all else fails, he will wipe out the entire sector.¡± As soon as the Mediator¡¯s ship departed, Karmion breathed a faint curse under his breath. But his bad mood didn¡¯t last. She couldn¡¯t do anything about it. He¡¯d post Admirals to guard this facility, and if she came back, they would destroy her. If she spread the word, no one would believe her. He had only lost one opportunity, but those were one in a thousand. The true mark of greatness was capitalizing as much as one could. He hadn¡¯t ascended as far as he had without being able to make the most of luck when it arose. And today, his luck was Nathariel. The Admiral had exhausted all his mana on Wards, and he had nothing else to fuel his enhanced body. He hung, limp as a mortal, face battered and bruised, in the grip of two bluecoats. Karmion called his remaining water into a glove over his right hand, then strode across the street to face Nathariel. Though he had no more mana in his system, his core still radiated an absurd pattern. Something bound to his core, shielding it and sheltering it. If Nathariel released the veil? Karmion lunged forward and punched at Nathariel¡¯s head. If his fist connected, he¡¯d break Nathariel¡¯s skull open and scatter his brains across the entire block behind. He stopped only a fingernail¡¯s length away from Nathariel¡¯s forehead. The man didn¡¯t even flinch. ¡°Nathariel, is it?¡± Karmion shook off his hand, scattering the water across the paving stones. ¡°You have been a thorn in the side of many a God-heir and Mediator alike, from what I hear. Lived five-hundred years, is it?¡± Nathariel looked up slightly, but he said nothing more. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you,¡± Karmion said, pacing around the back of the man. The two bluecoats held him in place. Three more sprinted down the street adjacent, pushing aside a terrified vendor who tried to scoop the remains of a loaf of bread into a barrel. They cocked their muskets and pointed them at Nathariel. ¡°Believe what you want,¡± Nathariel spat. ¡°I am what I am.¡± ¡°An Admiral doesn¡¯t raise a Mediator and a boy with a weak spirit up to Commodores in less than a year.¡± ¡°Maybe they are excellent disciples. Maybe pitting your children against each other and treating them like fighting dogs doesn¡¯t motivate them as well as¡­¡± Karmion scoffed. ¡°As well as what?¡± ¡°As well as a father does.¡± ¡°I¡¯d kill you for that.¡± ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°...be able to.¡± Karmion squinted. ¡°I am the God of the Planetary Sea, commander of all water, Lord of the High Pantheon. There is nothing that I cannot do.¡± ¡°The dragons were the first gods.¡± Nathariel hoisted his head up high, with great effort. ¡°Do you know where the Streamfather got his power from?¡± ¡°I am not playing this game with you,¡± Karmion spat. ¡°Take him to my ship. I¡¯ll put him in the Namola when I arrive.¡± ¡°The Streamfather forged the galactic paths with the strength of the Spirit Dragon itself!¡± Nathariel yelled. The bluecoats dragged him away, bearing him toward the port, where a longboat waited¡ªit¡¯d carry them back to the Cardinal Arrant. ¡°Silence. I will use your fire, and you will provide the finishing touches to the mightiest weapon of the age.¡± ¡°You cannot control the Dragons¡¯ Fire. It will turn against you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s nice. If he speaks again, shoot him.¡± Karmion crossed his arms and shook his head, then mustered his cloud of mist from his corespace and hopped onto it. It was wonderful to have Lyze back. When the Harmony returned to Shatterport, Vayra and Glade leapt ashore in a hurry. It was still nighttime, though past midnight. A chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust hovered in front of the stars, blocking the sky, but even beyond its edge, the sky was dark. ¡°Get out of here,¡± Vayra told Pels. ¡°If we need you again, we¡¯ll send a fish, but if you wait in the port, you¡¯re just putting a target on your backs.¡± ¡°Good plan, missy,¡± Pels said, dipping his head respectfully. ¡°We¡¯ll be nearby, and hopefully, we hear from you soon.¡± Then, she and Glade walked back to the arena. They had refilled their mana on the journey back, using spray from the Stream, but there was no need to burn mana just sprinting back to their apartment. The sun was glimmering on the horizon by the time they made it back to their apartment. Vayra dropped down on the couch, and Glade sat on the chair on the opposite side. Phason¨¦ manifested physically behind Vayra, leaning on the back of the coach and resting her chin on Vayra¡¯s head. ¡°Do you think¡­he¡¯ll kill Nathariel?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°He seemed pretty confident that he¡¯d live,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°We should trust him. He gave us an assignment. All of us. We can¡¯t fail him. At best, he needs us.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and nodded. ¡°We need to take the final step alone.¡± ¡°You are not alone, Vayra,¡± said Glade. ¡°We will train together. Like old times.¡± Chapter 33: Phasing [Volume 4] Vayra walked out into the arena on stiff legs. She shook out her arms and rolled her neck side to side, trying to loosen up. Over the past two days, between fights, she¡¯d been practicing internal Warding, meanwhile sparring with Glade. Her arms ached from constant use, as did her legs, and she¡¯d probably pushed herself too hard and too far, but there was no sense in turning back now. In fact, she needed to push herself harder. Just like the spiritual senses and the blindfolds, she needed to force herself to take the next leap. This time, she wouldn¡¯t use any normal Warding techniques. Only internal Warding would do. Soon, she¡¯d face Larra, and then Karmion. Nathariel placed a high value on the technique, so Vayra needed to know it too. She might get a few scrapes, but it¡¯d keep her insides intact. ¡®Now, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said as they walked out into the center of the arena, ¡®remember, this technique is based on fire. Setting your interior ablaze and willing the fire to protect yourself. The flames of the stars should sear through you. Remember on Harvest Sanctuary? The simple glimpses of profundity that you mustered to create the Astral Shroud, or to come to your Captain revelation.¡¯ ¡°I remember.¡± ¡®You¡¯re modifying a technique, you¡¯re making it your own. You must seek a deeper understanding of it, what it represents, and what it distills down to at its core. When you know, you¡¯ll know.¡¯ ¡°Thanks¡­¡± She didn¡¯t mean to be dismissive, but it wasn¡¯t just something she could call on at a will. She¡¯d not come up with anything, except replicating the Arcara movements that Nathariel had used for the internal Ward. ¡°Ymmari Neldotter Ymman!¡± Karmion announced. ¡°Sponsor: Ymmandris. Path: Runehunger.¡± A young-looking woman, around Vayra¡¯s age (though she was likely actually much older), strode across the opposite side of the arena. She held a staff-sized ink brush in her hand, and a shield-sized painter¡¯s pallet of black, ink-like paint in the other. Like a fairy trying to use a human¡¯s painting equipment. Karmion announced Vayra soon after, speaking calmly but somewhat coolly, like he knew exactly what she had done. Like he had something to hold over her head. Then as soon as he finished, a trumpet blared, signalling the start of the fight. Ymmari swept her ink brush up, dragging it through the air. She used a Reach technique, manipulating a swath of black ink to slash in from the side, poised to slice Vayra¡¯s head off. She dispersed it with a Starlight Palm. But a descendant of the Goddess of Ink and Writing wouldn¡¯t just use basic Reaches. As Vayra defended herself, Ymmari whipped her paintbrush staff around ahead of herself, writing on the empty air. Black, calligraphic runes appeared in the air, encircling Vayra. She couldn¡¯t tell their meaning or use, but they wrapped around faster than she could meaningfully register and react to. Then Ymmari flooded them with mana. In a flash, they all activated. They resonated at a high pitch, then shattered, firing shards of hardened ink at her. She shielded her face with her mechanical arm and Warded her gut and flank, concentrating her shields as best she could to stop the blast. The internal Warding didn¡¯t stop the shards from slicing up her outer layer of skin, but it never penetrated deeper than a papercut. The worst papercut ever, maybe, but never life threatening. But that was just the first barrage. Already, a new ring of runes was forming around her, inky sigils floating only a few feet away from her. She tried disrupting them with a Shattered Palm, but they reformed in seconds. Again, they flooded with mana, erupting in blue light for a moment before shattering into daggers. Again, she shielded her interior, and again, papercuts formed all along the exterior of her skin. Her robe frayed. She wasn¡¯t meant to be a tank. Sitting around and taking a beating? That didn¡¯t conform to the rest of the abilities she earned. It couldn¡¯t work for her internal Wards, either. And, given how effortlessly Ymmari used this cage to trap and eventually pummel Vayra? Vayra would run out of mana before her opponent. ¡®Direct your shields,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Angle them. Bend them to the purpose you desire.¡¯ At the moment? Vayra desired to escape this and not lose. She shut her eyes. Another circle of runes was forming around her, but she ignored it. She wanted to blast out, to run and escape, to become a wedge. A wedge pierces through. But a wedge was a method of directing force, and it was suited for sword-Paths. ¡®Do stars protect?¡¯ Phason¨¦ quizzed. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Well¡­she took the energy of the stars and used it to attack. ¡®You also use it to speed yourself up.¡¯ Stars provided heat for the planets. They kept their planets entangled in their gravity and held them at the right distance to support life. ¡®That¡¯s the realm of sunlight, not starlight.¡¯ There couldn¡¯t be a massive difference. ¡®The realms of humanoid godly authority were devised before men sailed the Stream. Before anyone knew better the difference between the sun and the stars.¡¯ Vayra dropped to the ground and sheltered once more from an attack. The pressure of the ink pellets weighed down on her, pressing her into the send and trying to compact her down. She protected herself, but her mana was nearly halfway out, and Ymmari hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat. ¡°Phas,¡± Vayra hissed, speaking as quickly as she could. ¡°Do you have an internal Warding technique?¡± ¡®No, but I advanced my regular Wards to their strongest form through the same strategy. How can stars protect?¡¯ There were plenty of stars that didn¡¯t have planets, who the Stream didn¡¯t even pass close by. They made up the bulk of the galaxy, its form and skeleton. They provide light, they give form to the night sky. Even in the scale of a God-heir¡¯s lifetime, a star seemed eternal. Yet most of them¡­couldn¡¯t even be interacted with, not like sunlight. Intangible. A Ward wasn¡¯t just a shield. It kept things away. The concepts aligned and resonated in her mind, and she accepted it, then imbued it into her Wards. She wouldn¡¯t split the rune-circle apart. She¡¯d push right through it, without it even touching her. When the barrage ended, she leapt up, then mustered her lowest, widest, most maneuverable stance. The one she¡¯d used to slip away from the authorities many times with. Slippery. Then, using both her internal Ward and her Astral Shroud, she sprinted forward. A wave of untouchable pulses pushed out, allowing her to pass straight through the runic circle without disrupting it at all. She darted across the arena to Ymmari and drew her pistol, then held it up to the woman¡¯s throat. Ymmari surrendered. The second half of the fight wasn¡¯t a contest. Now that Vayra had a way around her opponent¡¯s main attack, she could end the fight in seconds. She activated all her techniques at once¡ªthe Ward, the Astral Shroud, and Moulded her scythe. Her mana drained so quickly that she could register it fleeing her body, but it lasted more than long enough for her to win. Ymmari twirled her staff, and a shield of miniature ink runes hovered around it, protecting it from the cutting power of Vayra¡¯s scythe. A counter-attack almost caught Vayra off-guard, but she used her disruption runestone in her mechanical hand to dispel it, then drew on Adair to enhance her reflexes and circumvent the rest of Ymmari¡¯s defenses. The woman surrendered when Vayra pressed the cutting edge of the scythe up to her neck. Glade¡¯s fight took place nearly immediately after Vayra¡¯s, and by the time she made it up to the viewing platform of King Tallerion¡¯s tower, he had already won the first round. He fought a moon-Path God-heir with a pair of muskets. A monkey made of jade rested on her shoulder, but as soon as the battle began, it slipped inside the God-heir¡¯s corespace with one of the muskets and loaded it. While the God-heir used the other. The God-heir swapped her muskets as soon as her companion reloaded them, and she skirted around the edge of the arena, firing a constant barrage at Glade. The shots were regular steel balls, but the God-heir channelled moonlight into a pattern of Moulded Arcara at the muzzle, imbuing each shot with the pale green moonlight she drew in from a spatial rift on the other side of the arena. They moved faster than regular bullets and tore through Glade¡¯s Reach techniques with ease. The swordwyrm stayed safely behind his shoulder. If a shot hit it, it¡¯d pierce straight through the blade. If that¡¯d truly do lasting damage to the swordwyrm itself, she couldn¡¯t say, but it didn¡¯t seem to want the risk. But Glade moved fast, and despite his strength-based body, he had the nimbleness of an Order Adept. Every shot he dodged, he closed the distance between himself and the God-heir a few paces. ¡°How do you place your chances of victory, now?¡± came a voice from behind her. She was leaning on the front railing of the viewing platform, watching the arena below as usual. She glanced over her shoulder at King Tallerion, who approached with his arms behind his back, hands folded formally. He was dressed much like he had been on their first encounter¡ªwith a long coat, proudly displayed military awards, and a white shawl with black speckles. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t want to make any assumptions, sir,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I would hate to get everyone¡¯s hopes up, only to fail.¡± King Tallerion snorted. ¡°Welcome to a position of power, my dear. You don¡¯t want to disappoint me, and that¡¯s understandable, but if you never dare to make projections, you won¡¯t get very far.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I wasn¡¯t supposed to be king¡ªthis you know. My brother was. I spent my youth as a prince-commander of the Royal Dragoons, and I am weary. But I learned much from those days.¡± ¡°I think there¡¯s a high chance of reaching¡­the top eight,¡± Vayra said. ¡°The biggest threats? Larra, Myrrir.¡± The crowd below fell silent, and when Vayra looked forward again, she noticed that Glade had defeated his opponent¡ªas expected. ¡°What about Varion?¡± asked the king. ¡°Hm?¡± Vayra tilted her head. ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°He has won all his fights in the first two rounds. A descendant of Karmion, though he has the seemingly rare ability to manipulate ice. And that battle axe he uses¡­seems powerful. Forged by a master smith, though I, being a mortal, don¡¯t dare comment on its effectiveness.¡± Vayra gulped. ¡°Admittedly, I was focussing on the threats I knew about.¡± She shut her eyes. ¡°You should know: Karmion has one last resort. If we fail here, he will unleash a horde of Ko-Ganall on the sector and wipe it out.¡± Tallerion rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°That is¡­not ideal.¡± His face twitched, as if his composure was about to break. ¡°There are¡­millions of people here, at least, and many others in the sector,¡± she said. ¡°If worst comes to worst, they will all die. If nothing happens, he¡¯ll unleash them in three weeks¡ªat the end of the tournament.¡± ¡°I will leave,¡± said Tallerion, and immediately, Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. But he continued: ¡°I will muster the Velaydian fleets. I will bring as many ships as I can. Do you know how to activate the Vales?¡± Chapter 34: Advice-Seeking [Volume 4] ¡°I have no idea what that means, sir,¡± Vayra said. King Tallerion marched to the railing and set his hands down on it. ¡°All the Chambers, the underground labyrinths of the Dragon Gods, have a link to each other. They transmit through the Stream, though I don¡¯t profess to know how it works.¡± He looked down on the arena and clapped, even if he was one of the only people clapping for Glade¡¯s victory. ¡°I will muster the fleet at Farpoint. When the Vale Chambers vent their stored Arcara and shine bright, we will know that you need assistance. We will break through the Elderworld lines and assist the evacuation as best we can.¡± ¡°Do you know what it looks like? To¡­shine bright?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no idea, miss. I¡¯ve only heard of it in legend. But it seems like the best way to transmit a desperate signal almost instantly.¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡­Phason¨¦ and I will figure it out, as long as you gather the fleets.¡± King Tallerion stepped back from the railing and stepped back, but paused for a moment to pat her shoulder. ¡°I know that look. Don¡¯t despair. We¡¯ve held them back for this long, and we will keep fighting. You¡¯re working with the best navy in the galaxy.¡± ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll push as high as I can.¡± After Myrrir finished his next fight, he lingered in the hallways of the arena. He didn¡¯t return to the audience risers, but he didn¡¯t wander the hallways aimlessly, either. He¡¯d studied the potential tournament bracket. It had been posted on every corner of the arena¡¯s interior, at every intersection, and throughout every hallway of the contestants¡¯ quarters. The next fight taking place today was Ameena against a stone-Path God-heir. Neither were of particular interest to him until the gathering at the Continental Inn, when he¡¯d noticed Ameena working with the Mediator and her friend. If she was a somewhat neutral party, perhaps she could convince them to grant Myrrir an audience. After all, his next fight would be¡­the most important of his life. He¡¯d won, and so had Vayra. Next, they would fight each other. That evening, Vayra sat on the couch in the living room of their quarters, trying to relax. She¡¯d never been one to chew her nails, but if she had, now would¡¯ve been the perfect time. Phason¨¦ had highly suggested that she look at the upcoming bracket posted on the hallway outside. Her next fight was against Myrrir. In two weeks. Between the two rounds, they had a chance to seek advancement, to climb as high as they could and push themselves. They could leave the moon and travel in search of advancement resources, or better locations to cycle Arcara. In the meantime, she had a chance to seek an audience with a God¡ªa reward for making it into the top sixteen fighters of the tournament. Most would use it as an opportunity to ask about advancement revelations or arcane advice, but she recalled exactly what Nathariel had said. She needed an audience with Farrir, the Forge God. ¡°Who are you going to request an audience with?¡± Vayra asked Glade, who sat on the chair opposite from her. ¡°I¡¯ll handle Farrir. Didn¡¯t have anyone else I wanted to ask anything from anyway.¡± ¡°Each God of the high pantheon has space for an audience with one contestant, should they choose. I want to speak with Kalawen.¡± ¡°Her?¡± Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Why her?¡± ¡°Love and illusions. Without Nathariel, we¡¯ll need guidance on reaching Admiral and Grand Admiral. We can accumulate Arcara all we want, but without him, we have no one to guide us through the revelations. Unless, perhaps, Phason¨¦ is willing to help.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Vayra shut her eyes and analyzed her core as best as she could. The advancement from Commodore to Admiral should be similar to the advancement from Captain to Commodore¡ªaccumulate enough Arcara, fill your core, and advance when you have the revelation. She didn¡¯t know what to do to get to Grand Admiral, though. Phason¨¦ emerged from Vayra, her ghostly form winding into existence and appearing behind the couch. ¡°I can help, but getting insight from a Goddess who is perfect at reading people couldn¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°But¡­Kalawen is working with Karmion.¡± Vayra scrunched her eyebrows. ¡°Why would she give you good information?¡± ¡°She needs us to advance quickly, too, so we can face Karmion and square off,¡± Glade provided. ¡°She will presume, I hope, that the quicker we advance, the shakier we will be at the higher stages.¡± ¡°And she won¡¯t exactly be wrong,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°But we don¡¯t have a choice. What we do have on our side is that they will underestimate us. They¡¯ll think that, without Nathariel, we¡¯re useless. Or that they¡¯ve dealt a severe blow. And with King Tallerion retreating from the planet, things will look even more dire.¡± ¡°Karmion might be confident,¡± Vayra said, ¡°but he doesn¡¯t seem like one to overestimate.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯ll have to be better than him. You¡¯ll have to trick him. He doesn¡¯t know the extent of our internal Warding strength, he doesn¡¯t understand the extent of our bond. He has still been largely unconcerned with Glade.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and hung her head. ¡°We¡¯re still going to be¡­just clashing directly with him, with just¡­what, hope? When so much is in our hands, that¡¯s not good enough. In a direct confrontation, with both of us fighting head to head, we¡¯ll lose. Even if I reach Grand Admiral and use the Mediator form, make myself as powerful as the gods, they have centuries more experience. Everyone is counting on me, Phas, and I know I can¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Not yet. But you¡¯ll never feel ready. At some point, you¡¯ll have to make the leap and try.¡± She dipped her head and grimaced. She didn¡¯t think her stomach could sink any lower, but it did. That night, she didn¡¯t sleep. At some point between midnight and morning, Phason¨¦ passed out. The next morning, when all the God-heirs awoke and the last few fights of the fifth tournament concluded, the audiences with the Gods began. Sixteen competitors in the final phase of the tournament, sixteen Gods, and four more rounds. Half-asleep, Vayra trudged around the edge of the arena, trying to hunt down Farrir¡¯s tower. She assumed it was the spire clad in ashy steel, black stone, and orange glass¡ªalmost like something she¡¯d have found on Muspellar. Chimneys sprouted out its sides, spouting smoke, and its windows glowed amber in the early morning light. ¡°A little much, don¡¯t you think?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Couldn¡¯t make it any more obvious?¡± ¡®It helps, doesn¡¯t it?¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®Regardless, he has to train his descendants somehow¡ªthey can¡¯t just do nothing for a few months while they watch the tournament. They¡¯re forge mages, and the best way to improve is by working in a forge.¡¯ ¡°I suppose¡­does that mean the best way to improve for us is to¡­I dunno, step into a star?¡± ¡®We¡¯d need starlight. Remember, get too close to a star, and it becomes the realm of the sun.¡¯ Vayra snorted. ¡°I was kinda joking. I don¡¯t think we¡¯d survive it, either way.¡± ¡®You¡¯d be surprised what you can survive, now.¡¯ Vayra was silent for a few seconds, then said, ¡°Lets just speak with the fancy forge guy. Then we can worry about hopping into stars, or whatever you¡¯d have me do.¡± They circled around the upper ring of the arena, about a third of the way around, until they reached Farrir¡¯s spire. There was no need to sneak in; she was supposed to be here. She approached the main door, where two Commodore-stage guards stood in sleeveless tunics, leaning on the haft of an oversized blacksmith¡¯s hammer each. ¡°Hello,¡± Vayra said to them, then offered a small wave. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m here to see Farrir. You wouldn¡¯t be willing to¡ª¡± ¡°Come this way,¡± said one of the guards, a tall man with long hair, a thick beard, and pointed ears. ¡°He was expecting you sooner, and you¡¯ve kept him waiting.¡± They entered at the tower¡¯s base, then travelled down a high-ceilinged hallway until they reached a stairway at the center of the tower. It spiralled up all the way to the top, and they started climbing. Clearly, the forge-Path heirs had no method of flying at lower levels, if at all. ¡®They do,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®But only when they reach Grand Admiral. You¡¯ll find a way, too, when you reach that stage.¡¯ ¡°How?¡± she whispered as she climbed. ¡°It¡¯s not like stars have anything to do with air. We can¡¯t just move¡­air.¡± The two Commodore-stage guards turned back and stared at her for a few seconds, but they didn¡¯t comment, and she didn¡¯t feel the need to explain herself. ¡®When I had my own body,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, ¡®I used the energy of the stars to lift my channels, and, being so directly intwined with my body, my flesh responded. It¡¯s not as efficient as God-heirs who have control over wind, but it¡¯s still effective. It¡¯s like¡­a Reach technique, but inside yourself.¡¯ Vayra nodded. ¡°I could probably do the same with the internal Ward, then. Will myself to float, and I will.¡± ¡®It¡¯s worth a try. When you have more practice.¡¯ ¡° ¡®Course.¡± They reached the top of the tower after a few more minutes of quick climbing. The Commodores stopped before they passed through the last floor and stood side-by-side, resuming their guarding position¡ªas if a God needed protection. ¡°Thank you,¡± Vayra whispered to them, then stepped between them and took the last few stairs up to the top. Supposedly, Farrir might help. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t. ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing, Nathariel,¡± she whispered. ¡°Otherwise, this would¡¯ve been a waste of an audience.¡± Chapter 35: Obscured Path [Volume 4] When Glade announced that he wanted to speak with Kalawen¡ªat the base of her tower¡ªthe guards were initially argumentative. When he explained that he¡¯d made it to the top sixteen and was claiming his prize, they were slightly less resistant, and finally, when an Admiral ventured down to meet him, they stepped aside. Most of Kalawen¡¯s children had pointed ears and elven faces¡ªsymmetrical, with slightly larger than normal eyes and high cheekbones. They moved without bobbing up and down, like they were gliding, and they always held their chins high. The men wore silk shirts, which buttoned up down the center, and the women wore dresses. All had long hair, shades of brown and red, and half-transparent illusory hair ornaments decorated their heads. The Admiral led him up to the top of the tower, and they climbed the long staircase in complete silence, until they arrived at an open pavilion near the top. White pillars ran along the edge of the room, holding up the rest of the tower¡¯s spire, and lattice ornaments adorned nearly every wall. The floor had a floral tile pattern, in dull greens and browns, and it wrapped around flowerbeds and orange autumn trees. The Admiral left Glade at the top of the stairs and motioned with his arm, signalling for Glade to enter the room and cross it. A single figure stood on the other side, her arms held behind her, as she stared off into the distance. ¡°Glade Charl Arvitir.¡± Glade crossed the room hesitantly, his boots crunching across the dried fallen leaves. ¡°Ms. Kalawen. I come under protection of the tournament, seeking your advice on the next advancement steps.¡± ¡°From me, of all people?¡± Kalawen turned around, her hair floating behind her like she was underwater. She, as expected, was an elf. A light dress hugged her form, and though it had a long skirt, most of it was the product of an illusion and Arcara¡ªwhen Glade observed it in his spiritual sight, it glowed. If needed, she could transition to a fighting position at the drop of a pin. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you.¡± She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, though Glade figured it was a ruse to reach up closer to her hair pins, which kept it bound up neatly behind her head. They were likely weapons. ¡°Yes, from you.¡± When Glade drew within ten paces of her, he halted. He contemplated kneeling for a few seconds, but ultimately decided against it. She already knew where he stood, and if she hadn¡¯t before today, she could probably observe his soul with her abilities. ¡°What would you like?¡± ¡°I want your advice on advancing to Admiral and Grand Admiral.¡± ¡°I repeat: from me? You are aware I am aiding Karmion, yes, and you want me to aid you¡­too? Instead? What do you expect to come from this conversation?¡± ¡°I expect you to honour the terms of the tournament. I expect you to give me advice that, if taken on its surface level, will lead me down a crippling road, but still holds some shreds of truth beneath it all.¡± ¡°And you think you can discern the shreds of truth?¡± Glade shook his head. ¡°I think you will make it clear enough, intentionally or not.¡± His spine had already been tingling from the presence of a Goddess, even though she was veiling herself. Now, a pressure weighed down on the base of his neck. It was a new, unique sensation. There was no chill down his spine to signal a spiritual scan, but instead, his eyes felt cold and rough, as if somehow, they¡¯d formed gooseflesh. Kalawen stared straight at him, and he hadn¡¯t even realized it. She locked eyes with him, and they flared bright purple. A misty halo of purple Arcara formed around her head, and a ring of illusions appeared around him. Like he had when fighting Brelond, he switched to a mana-purification cycling pattern, putting strain on his soul and focussing his willpower. The illusions dimmed, revealing the true Kalawen¡ªwho now stood beside him, approaching, reaching out with a lithe hand. Glade shrunk away, but the chill in his eyes and the pressure on his neck remained. She was looking into his soul, trying to see how best to deceive him, what half-truths she could feed him to send him down the wrong path. She¡¯d get nothing. ¡°The Admiral Revelation is about your future purpose, what you will do, and how you will change the galaxy,¡± Kalawen said, circling around to the other side of Glade and dragging her fingers across the back of his coat. ¡°It¡¯s how you see yourself in ten years. It relies on clear self-image and requires deep ambitions. Tell yourself what you want to hear, and forge it into a true reflection of yourself.¡± As expected, she misread him. She spoke of change, about pure ego. She wanted him to play on self image and adjust the revelation accordingly, but that wouldn¡¯t work. Even if it did resonate with his soul well enough to achieve the advancement, it¡¯d never be enough to let him advance far into the future. A revelation couldn¡¯t be moulded to fit a person¡ªthe God-heir had to accept something about themselves. Glade smiled and said, ¡°Thank you. What about the advancement from Admiral to Grand Admiral.¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°To reach the final stage, one must bond with a spirit-beast,¡± Kalawen spun, making her dress flutter. Her eyes blurred into streaks, but her hair still floated slowly, buoyed by an invisible pool of water. ¡°Not a mental bond, not like between a horse and a rider, but to accept a spirit-beast as a part of yourself and draw in its essence. To tame it and bend its will to yours.¡± Glade narrowed his eyes. ¡°Pick the right spirit-beast, and it represents the very peak, distillation of your Path and element. There is a reason Karmion¡¯s heirs wear their hats all the way from the Lieutenant stage up to Grand Admiral. They host a riverplume, a weak spirit-beast that grows with them¡ªup until the final stage, where they draw it into themselves. But it stays with them. Were Karmion to take off his hat, the riverplume would remain, as if intertwined with his hair and scalp.¡± She leaned forward and faced him, then taped the side of her head. ¡°Some are less obvious.¡± ¡°How?¡± He could worry about the truths later. ¡°You must twist the spirit-beast to fit your Path.¡± She still hadn¡¯t realized that such domination wouldn¡¯t play on him? He knew that to be wrong; she believed she could lure him with the joys of twisting the world to fit your every desire. But if that hadn¡¯t worked for the past two revelations, it wouldn¡¯t work now. That meant she hadn¡¯t seen anything, and was just making her best guesses. ¡°Thank you,¡± Glade said simply. Without any other topics of conversation, he turned away, aiming at the stairs and preparing to retreat down the stairs. Kalawen clamped a stern hand down on his shoulder. ¡°How?¡± ¡°How¡­what?¡± Glade stopped at her silent command, but he didn¡¯t turn to face her. ¡°How did you shroud your soul from me?¡± Glade exhaled. It couldn¡¯t have been just because of willpower; in that contest, a goddess who¡¯d lived hundreds of years would win. ¡°There is nothing to shroud, ma¡¯am. You are dealing with a young man who lived his entire life in an order of sword wielding paladins. I had no childhood, no constant parents to inflict their beliefs on me. I am empty.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± Kalawen said. ¡°There was ambition deep within.¡± ¡°Ambition is not evil,¡± Glade said. ¡°Though you all treat it like a guilty pleasure that must be indulged. But my ambition is different than that of the Gods, and you could not comprehend it.¡± He dropped his shoulder, pulling free from her grasp, and walked to the stairs. She¡¯d given him everything he needed. Myrrir wanted one last audience with his father. Nothing else. He didn¡¯t need guidance for advancements, or advice on where best to harvest energies¡­just a chance to speak his mind. To set things in stone. He marched up the central stairway of Nilsenir¡¯s spire, flanked by two guards in vibrant but mismatched coats. Pirates, of course, both with hip flasks of gunpowder to fuel their Commodore-level abilities. They couldn¡¯t kick Myrrir out. He¡¯d made it to the top sixteen, and he¡¯d earned this privilege. But that didn¡¯t mean the two guards didn¡¯t look like they wanted to kill him. Tayrin and Nirrir. They weren¡¯t direct descendants of Nilsenir, and they were each both about five hundred years old. It was good progress, but they¡¯d stalled. They wouldn¡¯t advance higher than Commodore¡ªthere was a reason they were never Nilsenir¡¯s favourite sons. When they reached the upper level, both guards waited far behind and away, making sure they stayed well out of the range of any collateral damage. Myrrir¡¯s mind was blank. He had thought of what he might say this time, how it¡¯d be different from last time, how he¡¯d make anything different. How to properly announce his intentions. But he knew what would be satisfying. He prowled across the hall and faced his father. The pirate banners fluttered overhead, and the braziers crackled, turning Nilsenir into a hazy shadow. ¡°Father,¡± Myrrir said, like he had last time, ¡°this will be the last time we talk.¡± For a few seconds, Nilsenir said nothing. Then, he jumped down off his wooden seat and marched toward Myrrir. ¡°Is that a threat?¡± His brass hook-hand glinted in the firelight, and his coat swayed. ¡°It¡¯s a promise, father. Whether you live or die in the coming weeks is not for me to say. Whether I face you in combat or not won¡¯t be up to me.¡± He shut his eyes, breathed a sigh, and clenched his fists. Do it. Stand up for yourself. Make the leap, and make things right. ¡°And if I do have to try to fight you, I will do it without uttering a single word.¡± ¡°What is this defiance?¡± Nilsenir snarled. ¡°This isn¡¯t you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s who I want to be.¡± Myrrir put a hand on his sword, but he didn¡¯t mean it. ¡°You can¡¯t kill me. Everyone knows I¡¯ve come to visit you, and if I don¡¯t emerge from this tower, everyone will know why.¡± ¡°Then why? To spit in my face?¡± Nilsnir scowled. ¡°I gave you everything, and you failed at every turn!¡± ¡°No. You didn¡¯t.¡± Myrrir let his face fall blank. ¡°I wanted your love and recognition. That¡¯s what I wanted. I needed a father, not a whip-bearer.¡± ¡°I repaired your hands! I replaced your lungs, I gave you elixirs and the best tutors money could buy! You had your pick of ships, of crew, you could¡¯ve lorded over planets and fathered many children of your own, but you chose this? I put you here!¡± ¡°Yes, you did. And perhaps, I owe you much as a son. But you walk a dark path, and I can¡¯t go the same way. I want to be satisfied.¡± ¡°What are you going to do?¡± ¡°I¡­am not going to serve you anymore. If I attain godhood, it won¡¯t be because of you. When the tournament is over, I will no longer bear your name or any relation to you¡ªwe were already halfway there anyway.¡± Myrrir winced. ¡°I will be more like my poor first mate, who did everything in his power to care for me. ¡°If I don¡¯t achieve godhood soon, I¡¯ll stall. My spirit is too injured, burnt, and charred, and all I¡¯ve done is make it worse. But maybe that¡¯s what I deserve.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a pathetic excuse for a God-heir,¡± Nilsenir spat. ¡°Yes. I am.¡± Myrrir turned away and took a step back toward the stairs. ¡°Goodbye, father.¡± Nilsenir gave no response. Chapter 36: Forges Favour [Volume 4] Vayra stepped into a smoke-filled hall. Amber windows let in slices of light, given form by the smoke, and yellow lanterns hung from the rafters, swaying in the faint breeze. The floor was made of uneven flagstones, and ashy debris littered it, turning them from gray to black. Vayra approached a table at the opposite side of the room, where a few figures stood. They were all muscular, and like the guards, they all carried oversized blacksmith¡¯s hammers on their backs. Farrir stood at the very end of the table, tapping a sheet of paper and speaking softly to his descendant subordinates. Most were Admirals, though there was one Grand Admiral with hair that glistened with an unnaturally coppery tone. Farrir, the only one of them who radiated the presence of a God, wore a sleeveless coat and had coppery hair that seemed a little more natural on him. He¡¯d tied it up into a ponytail. ¡°Leave us,¡± he instructed, and without a word of debate, the God-heirs bowed their heads and filtered out of the room. Once their footsteps faded, and even Vayra¡¯s reforged ears couldn¡¯t hear their boots thudding down the stairs, Farrir asked, ¡°What are your intentions, Mediator?¡± He stayed behind the table, leaning on it with his hands. The wood seemed to creak and groan under his weight, and the end of the table closest to her lifted slightly. ¡°I am going to destroy Karmion and any other god who doesn¡¯t ascend back to the upper realms, where they belong,¡± Vayra said. ¡°The gods may have temporary holdings for their children, as I understand is tradition, and they may raise god-heirs, but those will never hold sway over their mortals, and their lives won¡¯t be considered more valuable. They won¡¯t do damage to the peaceful planets or upset and defile nature.¡± Farrir reached up and stroked his chin. ¡°I see¡­¡± ¡°Why?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Why descend and occupy this realm? You aren¡¯t advancing, are you? You¡¯re not gaining strength. Why do this?¡± Farrir snorted. ¡°Because Karmion bade us to, and no one resists his will. Because there is no good in having power if you can¡¯t use it. Because the realm above is an intermediary plane of heaven, a dull and desolate wasteland, and the gap between the realm of Emissaries and what lies beyond is far more than you could imagine, than even the Stream could comprehend, and in the meantime, we must keep ourselves sane.¡± Then sending them back would be a suitable punishment for what they¡¯d done. ¡°Do you agree with Karmion, then?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯d rather ascend again than die,¡± said Farrir. ¡°To that end, I am not interested in fighting you, or earning a grudge. I am also not fond of Karmion, especially of his behaviour lately. I know he¡¯s making a weapon. I¡¯d be the best for the job, but he doesn¡¯t trust me. He¡¯s butchering the best ingredients available to him and making a mockery of my craft, but if he truly forges a Mediator-slaying weapon without me, it would greatly diminish my authority and standing in the eyes of the mortals.¡± Vayra glanced over her shoulder, regarding the mouth of the stairway, where the two guards who had brought her up still stood. She couldn¡¯t see them, but she sensed their presences. Every passing second, the further they got into the conversation, the more she sensed danger from the god-heirs. Presumably, most of Farrir¡¯s family still sided with Karmion. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them,¡± Farrir said. ¡°They have been briefed and selected specifically for this purpose¡ªthey were expecting you, after all.¡± He lifted his hands, then marched around the side of the table. ¡°In many ways, Karmion has arranged my downfall, and my family along with me.¡± ¡°So you¡¯d help me?¡± ¡°I¡¯d make a deal with you.¡± ¡®Earning a favour from a God?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®Not bad, but I¡¯m not sure if that will turn the tides in our favour.¡¯ ¡°I need more than a favour,¡± Vayra said. ¡°You side with me, you¡¯ll get to live. You¡¯ll have to leave this realm, but I won¡¯t hold any ill will against you. What can you do to help me?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s start simple,¡± Farrir said. ¡°Karmion is making a weapon, but it won¡¯t be perfect¡ªnot like an implement from my forge. But he¡¯s forging it from the most valuable, rare materials in the galaxy. He is using the strongest shadowthorn he has. That is priceless.¡± Vayra let a grin slip onto her face. ¡°And say, if I stole it¡­¡± ¡°It would hardly be suited for you.¡± Her expression dropped and she breathed a sigh. ¡°Right. Sorry.¡± ¡°That is, in its current state. My dear, who am I?¡± She blinked a few times, unsure how to answer. ¡°You are speaking with the Forge God. I can adjust the weapon and turn it into a godslaying bane, and a tool perfectly aligned with you. But¡­¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡®He can¡¯t just do that with his bare hands,¡¯ Phason¨¦ provided. ¡°I¡¯ll need dragonfire.¡± She rolled her lips inward and chewed the insides of her cheeks. ¡°Dr¡ªdragonfire? They¡¯re extinct. I can¡¯t find it any more than you can.¡± ¡°I need something on par with the level of the shadowthorn. He¡¯s making an Emissary-grade weapon, and though it may have cracks in its form, imperfections, he will need a strong, arcane fire, too¡ªeven if he hadn¡¯t realized it yet.¡± ¡°Just a strong arcane fire?¡± Vayra tilted her head. ¡°Or specifically dragonfire?¡± ¡°Fire from the man who inherited the godly authority of the flame dragons, perhaps?¡± Farrir continued around the side of the table, running his fingers over the varnished wood and sweeping aside clutter. ¡°You¡¯ve met him. I tried to make an arrangement, but there were complications.¡± ¡°Nathariel?¡± ¡°There you go.¡± ¡°But¡­how long ago did the dragons go extinct?¡± Vayra swallowed. Nathariel was five centuries old, and the other gods were older than that. If the current pantheon was a progression from the dragon gods, the dragons had to have reigned thousands of years ago. ¡°There¡¯s no way a dragon could¡¯ve taught him to wield fire.¡± ¡°Ah, yes, a flame-wielding prodigy comes out of nowhere five hundred years ago. Or four hundred, or however long it was before Nathariel revealed himself. Advances to Admiral with ease, though he claims the effort heavily damaged his spirit. But he¡¯s not a Mediator, and he doesn¡¯t have the guidance of ancient gods himself¡ªone would think. But the god of fire no longer exists, so it¡¯d be impossible.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. ¡°Are you saying he¡¯s older than he claims?¡± ¡°I¡¯m saying he¡¯s much older. The last dragon was spotted some two-thousand years ago. Granted, there were likely many enclaves of hidden dragons that survived another millennium after, but there is only so long that even they could live, especially after their age passed. But while alive, they could¡¯ve trained apprentices.¡± ¡®It¡¯s possible that Nathariel was stronger than he claimed,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®We both saw his core. Farrir seems to know the most about this topic.¡¯ ¡°What are you saying?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I¡¯m saying he was trained by the dragons, and I¡¯m saying I need his fire. Can you get it for me?¡± ¡°If I were to steal the weapon from Karmion, I¡¯d do my best to break Nathariel out as well.¡± ¡°Excellent.¡± ¡®Wait a minute,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Ask him more about Nathariel. I need to know more about him.¡¯ ¡°I wanna know more, too,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡®Just ask him!¡¯ ¡°Fine. Sir, who is Nathariel?¡± Farrir snorted. ¡°I think that¡¯s a question best left for him to answer.¡± ¡°Please. Enough with the mystery. I can¡¯t exactly ask him right now. Karmion¡­has him. Is using him.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, fully. I have guesses, but it isn¡¯t my place to say.¡± Vayra exhaled forcefully and tightened her fists, then circled around the table opposite of Farrir. ¡°Humour me, then. Is there no one else¡¯s fire you can use?¡± ¡°There are other flame-Path god-heirs across the galaxy, yes. None as strong as him. Over the years, they¡¯ve diluted their powers or died off. If I were to use their fires, I wouldn¡¯t make a masterpiece. I seek to make a masterpiece, a weapon worthy of my eternal remembrance, even after I ascend.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°No God of Flame to borrow from?¡± ¡°Phason¨¦ will corroborate: the last God of Flame, Lyze, is gone.¡± Vayra gulped. ¡°Dead? Then what happened to his Godly Authority? Is it still floating around the Stream, waiting to be claimed?¡± ¡°I cannot say for sure; the God of Flame was gone well before the skyclash pact. Before then, if a God died, their authority had to be remade and reclaimed the hard way¡ªfrom the ground up.¡± Farrir tilted his head sideways toward her. ¡°Like Phason¨¦ did. It is entirely possible that the authority died and no one has been able to remake it, yet.¡± ¡°So Nathariel is your only option.¡± ¡°Unless you can spew fire out the palms of your hands, then yes.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°Then I¡¯ll get planning. I¡¯ll steal the weapon, whatever it is, as soon as I can, and I¡¯ll break Nathariel out.¡± ¡°Now, hold on a second, miss.¡± Farrir raised a finger. ¡°You¡¯re still only a Commodore. Emissary-grade God-killing weapon or not, you won¡¯t be strong enough to channel your abilities through it.¡± ¡°Sure. But I can still plan.¡± ¡°Which is why you should plan to steal the weapon later. Give it a few weeks. Let Karmion invest more resources and time into it. Does he know you know about it?¡± Vayra pursed her lips and recalled their excursion a few nights ago. Karmion had seen them investigating his warehouse, but as far as he knew, she and Glade were only aware of the Ko-Ganall, not the weapon. ¡®He doesn¡¯t like taking risks, but if he doesn¡¯t even consider the possibility,¡± Phason¨¦ said, ¡®then we still have the upper hand.¡¯ ¡°He doesn¡¯t know,¡± Vayra said. ¡°So I wait until I¡¯m ready to make my move, then I steal the weapon and break Nathariel out?¡± Her stomach dropped at the thought of Nathariel as Karmion¡¯s prisoner, forced to provide flame for a weapon to kill his disciples with. She wanted to go now, but she restrained herself. She reached up and rubbed her mechanical arm. She knew better than that, now. ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± she said. ¡°If there¡¯s nothing else, I¡¯ll be off. I have a fight to prepare for.¡± ¡°Oh, and Vayra?¡± Farrir asked. ¡°I have one more ask. That book you have, the Godscourge book? Can I have it?¡± ¡°Uh¡­why do you need it?¡± She patted her haversack, where she still kept it. ¡°I will need to study the words of past scholars, if I am to make you a god-slaying weapon.¡± Chapter 37: Stepping Stone [Volume 4] Vayra and Glade met back in their apartment at noon, and they both shared how their discussions with their respective gods played out. Vayra kept her summary brief, but there was plenty of material on both sides to cover. When they finished, they both sat in silence for a few minutes. Phason¨¦ appeared behind Vayra, a plain white wireframe, and leaned on the couch. ¡°Chances are,¡± Glade said, ¡°we will be dealing with Admirals in the next rounds. We need to advance to Admiral soon, too, if we are going to catch up and maintain our standing.¡± ¡°What will the advancement actually get us?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Stronger and purer Arcara, for one,¡± said Phason¨¦. ¡°Your techniques will be outright better in every way.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°You¡¯ll be preparing your body for the Grand Admiral reforging¡ªthe last reforge you¡¯ll get before ascending to godhood,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°That will take a little effort, though it won¡¯t be insurmountable with your Arcara control and internal Warding technique. But the process of feeding Arcara outward will inherently strengthen your skin and make it a little more durable.¡± Phason¨¦ put a hand of Vayra¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how it will interact with the Steevein body.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find out.¡± She wouldn¡¯t have minded some more durability, but if it compounded on her base reforged body, she wouldn¡¯t be getting any of that. But that meant she¡¯d be pushing for more speed. Or greater durability of her Arcara channels, or better healing. All worthwhile trade-offs. ¡°We will not advance to Admiral just by sitting here,¡± Glade said. ¡°We will need to seek out how we see our future selves, and we will need more Arcara. Staying on the Shattered Moon these next few days will not be ideal.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll send for the Harmony,¡± she said. ¡°Getting enough Arcara to make the leap, though? That¡¯s another question.¡± ¡°What you need for Admiral isn¡¯t more Arcara,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It comes down to the quality of it. Bask in Stream water, use the Burnished Flame Loop, and concentrate your willpower. You will push yourself there in time, though the revelation will be important.¡± ¡°You say that like I¡¯ll need something else.¡± ¡°Most God-heirs advance to Admiral in the presence of a strong source of their authority,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°I travelled to a nebula and basked in the light of newborn stars, and it took me months of nonstop cycling¡ªand I had a pattern equivalent to the Burnished Flame Loop, if not stronger.¡± ¡°Could you teach me?¡± ¡°It was designed specifically for wind-based Paths, and for the descendants of Brann?l. It wouldn¡¯t work for anyone else.¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll need a stronger source of our realms of control.¡± Vayra stroked her chin. ¡°Glade, where are you going?¡± ¡°I will travel to Swordhaven.¡± Glade rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. ¡°Elder Eman-Fa travelled there, seeking insight during his advancement from Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate. I hope I might achieve the same on a world of natural steel and blades. It is my best bet.¡± Vayra nodded. Everyone else knew what they were doing except her, and she didn¡¯t have the time to solve it. ¡°Is¡­there any better nebula than the one you used, Phas? Whichever one it was?¡± ¡°The Terlsen Nebula. And no, as far as I know, there is no other nebula with such concentrated energy.¡± ¡°But¡­what could be better than a nebula? We don¡¯t have that kind of time.¡± ¡°There is nothing better,¡± Phason¨¦ said dejectedly. ¡°Wait.¡± Glade pushed up from his chair. ¡°The light around Yorth¡¯s Remorse. The singularity. What was it?¡± ¡°...Light?¡± Vayra shrugged. ¡°I dunno, it was blue-white.¡± ¡°Exactly like your starlight abilities.¡± ¡°A singularity is a hole in space, an incredible weight that draws all toward it,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It¡¯s not a star.¡± ¡°It draws everything in¡­¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°Even light, apparently.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°And that light comes from stars,¡± said Glade. ¡°Thousands of them, all burning in the distance, feeding their light into the singularity¡¯s accretion disk.¡± ¡°Then there¡¯s our concentrated starlight. I need to find a singularity.¡± ¡°We have time,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°We could return to Yorth¡¯s Remorse.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll send a note out,¡± Vayra said. ¡°We¡¯ll call the Harmony back. We¡­can drop Glade off on this Swordhaven world, right, along the way? Then we¡¯ll head to Yorth¡¯s Remorse ourself and draw on the concentrated starlight.¡± Like her core had been. Dark, with light. The night sky and the stars, not just stars. A black hole was perfect. The Harmony arrived at Swordhaven after nearly three days of sailing. The planet emerged on the brink of the stream like a silver sun rising over a horizon. Everything about it shone enamel-white, like she was staring at an enormous warped mirror of a planet. Cracks ran along its shining surface, and patches of mottled gray interrupted it, but the majority of the planet was iron, coal, and natural steel. The winds whipped across its surface so fast that they polished it smooth. Glade stood at the Harmony¡¯s bow as they descended toward the planet¡¯s meagre equatorial oceans. The planet¡¯s surface being as reflective as it was, it absorbed less heat from its star, and a quarter of the planet on each side had a layer of snow and ice over it¡ªmuch larger than normal poles. The Harmony descended to an ocean of middling warmth, like an autumn morning, but the winds made it feel much cooler, and tiny snowflakes whipped past in the breeze. Each impact stung Glade¡¯s skin. They sloshed toward the shore, masts groaning in the high winds and sails rippling, but they arrived at a small village in an inlet. It wasn¡¯t the largest shoreline village¡ªthere were plenty of mining operations here to fuel the Elderworld war machine, and they needed ports to export their goods¡ªbut it was large enough to host the Harmony. They bobbed up to a pier, and Glade jumped over the Harmony¡¯s railing to the windswept boards below. ¡°We will return for you in precisely two weeks,¡± said Captain Pels. ¡°Be safe, boy. I hope to see an Admiral when I come back.¡± ¡°Understood, Captain.¡± Glade dipped his head toward Pels. He held a hand atop his head to keep his hat from blowing away. It covered his hair, making him less obviously an Order disciple. The Swordwyrm remained in his corespace, so as to draw less attention. ¡°Do not let Vayra throw herself into a singularity.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t!¡± As soon as Glade departed down the pier, the Harmony pulled away and navigated back to the Stream. Glade stepped off the pier onto the wharf, then pulled up the collar of his coat. A tiny village like this nestled into a cove of rock, but even then, it wasn¡¯t enough to stop the winds from entering, and it made them howl even louder as they raced around the metallic lips of the shelter. The village itself was a heap of pale wood and thin, steel-plate shingles. Lanky aspens tucked into the cracks, and pale green weeds grew in the corners, which no one took care to trim or maintain. Civilians milled about, wearing tight clothes that wouldn¡¯t blow around in the wind and keeping their hats to their heads with chin-straps. Wagons were low to the ground, so they wouldn¡¯t blow over, and enormous raccoon-cats pulled them. He wove down the street, keeping a hand on top of his head to hold down his tricorn, and approached a small pub at the end of the street. A platoon of bluecoats marched the opposite direction¡ªKarmion¡¯s forces had conquered Swordhaven a few years ago, and their presence in the cities was strict. Glade pushed the pub¡¯s door open with effort, then held it so the wind didn¡¯t slam it behind him. He¡¯d never been to this village before, and when he¡¯d come here with Elder Eman-Fa, he¡¯d just followed the older man. Glade waded through the swirling smoke and crowded tables, approaching the counter where a human innkeeper stood. The man was wiping out tin mugs with a cloth and washing steel plates in a bucket of frigid water. ¡°How can I help you, son?¡± the innkeeper asked. Glade kept his voice low, just in case any of the other patrons of the tavern overheard. ¡°I need directions to the Frostblade shrine, then I will be out of your hair. I am willing to pay, though I can only offer Velaydi¡ª.¡± ¡°No need, son,¡± the innkeeper whispered. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trade in that silver even if I was hundreds of quivres in debt. The bluecoats find any of it, they¡¯ll sooner hang me than ask where I got it.¡± ¡°Apologies,¡± Glade said. Already, a few gazes turned toward him. Sailors, workers, miners, and more. ¡°The coats find Velaydians coming through this pub, they¡¯ll shut us down,¡± the innkeeper said. ¡°No one wants their drinking hole gone.¡± ¡°I will leave, then¡ª¡± ¡°Wait just a moment,¡± said the innkeeper. ¡°Can¡¯t hurt to give directions.¡± He set down a mug on the counter¡ªa hammered steel countertop¡ªwith a clink, then tapped a notch on it with his finger. ¡°Say you¡¯re here.¡± He dragged his finger toward himself. ¡°You¡¯re gonna head inland for a day, and keep an eye out for the Copperpeak. Only copper mountain in sight. Sharp summit and all. Then, I need you to skirt its base until you reach a creek in a deep ravine. Follow the creek northeast, and you¡¯ll reach your shrine.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Glade bowed his head in gratitude, then took a step back from the counter. ¡°Word of warning, son,¡± said the innkeeper. ¡°That shrine has been abandoned for years. Its caretakers left soon after the occupation began. You¡¯ll find nothing but silverwolves and ruins there, now. Maybe a few travellers sheltering along the way, and a glaive-monk or two. Watch yourself, or you¡¯ll be mince.¡± Chapter 38: Remorse [Volume 4] The ruins of Naebel had devastated its star system and made the route to Yorth¡¯s Remorse treacherous. They¡¯d ripped up the nearby branches of the Stream and frayed them, and a new ring of debris orbited the star, occasionally cutting through the Stream and sending plumes of spirit water far into the void. But it was the only way to the singularity. Captain Pels navigated through the system slower than usual, shifting windlanes to avoid debris and avoid the debris field. For any chunks of smaller dust and debris, Vayra Warded the ship, protecting it from harm. There were no other ships on the Stream near Naebel, not even a distant speck. The system was dead, and soon its Stream connections would dry up altogether, but they still had time to use the singularity. ¡°How will I have enough Arcara to advance to Admiral?¡± Vayra asked Phason¨¦ when they neared the edge of the system, furthest from the worst of the debris. ¡°We needed enormously powerful elixirs to advance through the lieutenant stages, and eventually to Captain. But now?¡± ¡®It¡¯s not about sheer Arcara accumulation anymore,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You have your reserves, and it''s now about improving the energy¡¯s quality. You need more powerful Arcara, and you need to permanently bend what you have to the purpose of starlight. Bask in it. Seek connection to it, and draw it in. Once your Arcara has reached a certain quality, your core will feel full, and you¡¯ll be ready to push for Admiral.¡¯ After another half-hour of sailing, Yorth¡¯s Remorse appeared in the distance as a bright bluish-white speck. A pinprick of darkness appeared in its center, like eyelids peeling apart, and the speck broadened into an oval-shaped eye of blank darkness with a ring of light crossing through it. Without a giant spaceborne beast on their stern, it was kind pretty, but soon, it¡¯d start pulling them in. Vayra pushed away from the forward railing and ran across the forecastle, then down to the main deck. She turned side to side, dodging sailors and officers. Halfway across the deck, Bremi intercepted her. He grabbed her wrist and tugged, and for a moment, she spun to face him. ¡°We¡¯re almost in range of the singularity¡¯s tug!¡± Bremi called excitedly. ¡°And I¡¯ll actually get to see it this time!¡± ¡°If we actually can stay out of its pull this time,¡± Vayra replied. She raised her voice to an almost-yell. The winds of the Stream whipped louder and faster, and the windlanes became choppied. The gossamyr sails luffed, and the edges rippled. Someone yelled an order at Bremi, and he shouted something jargony at the sailors, then glanced back at Vayra. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta be going soon, but¡­look, if I don¡¯t see you again before this is all over, good luck. And don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡± Then Bremi scampered away and ran to the mainmast¡¯s ratlines. He climbed up to the first yard and, clinging onto the ropes as tight as he could, pointed and called out to the sailors, repeating a lieutenant¡¯s orders. Vayra sprinted back to the quarterdeck and leapt up the stairs, then skittered to a halt beside the wheel hub to face Captain Pels. The Harmony had accelerated after its departure from the Naebel system, but with the strain on the Stream, it had slowed down again. ¡°If we maintain this speed, will we pass the singularity?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Or will it still pull us in?¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t gone too far beyond it, yet,¡± Pels said. ¡°At our pace, we¡¯ll pass it, though barely. I can increase our speed, though we¡¯ll pass too quickly for it to be useful, eh?¡± ¡°We would,¡± Vayra said. ¡°You can¡¯t leap overboard and do some fancy god-stuff inside the light disk, can you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure if even a god can survive that.¡± ¡®I doubt it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Perhaps some fiend-abomination from the realms above, or the Streamfather, but not us.¡¯ ¡°If Karmion could survive that, I¡¯m done for,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®One step at a time.¡¯ ¡°How are other branches of the Stream?¡± Vayra asked Pels. ¡°Can we circle around it?¡± ¡°I can do my best to keep us close. We¡¯ll have to pass through Naebel a few times if we want to keep close by.¡± He stepped up to the ship¡¯s wheel and placed a hand on it, then dismissed the coxswain. ¡°But it won¡¯t be perfect, and most times, it¡¯ll seem like just a distant star..¡± Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°If I Ward the ship and protect the Streamrunning fins and masts, can we linger close to the singularity for longer? And then¡­protect them when we need a kick out, to launch away?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t say for sure,¡± said Pels. ¡°But if it goes anywhere like last time, it should work.¡± ¡°Then that¡¯s what we¡¯ll try,¡± said Vayra. ¡°I¡¯ll need more Stream water, though.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll assign your brother to the task. He¡¯ll keep you topped up.¡± Vayra nodded professionally, then jumped back down the quarterdeck stairs to the main deck. She¡¯d need the best, closest view of the singularity as she could. By now, the blazing black eye nearly filled her view to the right hand side. She sprinted up onto the railing, then gripped the ratlines and leaned out over the Stream as far as she could before falling off. Her mechanical hand tightened around the ropes, stronger than her regular arm, even as the great tug of the singularity tried to pull her away. The ship groaned and strained, and its wake disappeared. The pull of the singularity fought the winds of the Stream, trying to draw the Harmony in, but Pels steered the ship so the arcane gusts blew directly from behind, holding the ship in place. A board splintered from the strain, and a rope snapped. Her hair whipped around her face, threatening to pull off her head at any time. ¡°Alright, Phas,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°Let''s see how far we¡¯ve come.¡± She fed starlight Arcara out through her hand, letting it bleed into the ropes, then swirl down and Ward the railing below. Before, when they¡¯d sailed past Yorth¡¯s Remorse, she¡¯d only been able to protect a slice of the quarterdeck and the Streamrunning fins below, and it had taken nearly all her effort. But she¡¯d also only been a quartermaster. She pressed her teeth together and clenched every muscle, then cycled Arcara as fast as she could, maintaining the Burnished Flame Loop and the pattern for the external Wards. The white energy fed into the ship¡¯s hull, then snaked around and covered the quarterdeck in a net of rippling lines. It raced across the boards, filling their gaps with white cracks, and blazed up the masts and rigging until the entire ship shone white. At first, the sailors leapt up or scattered. Some let out hectic cries, and others reached for the rigging¡ªonly to find that it too was Warded. But then they realized that it was doing no harm, that she was holding the ship in one piece, and they scrambled back to their duties: keeping the sails trim, so the singularity didn¡¯t pull them in, and repairing any minor damage. Vayra chewed through her mana as quickly as she did while using the Astral Shroud and the internal Ward at the same time, but it also meant she was converting energy. And, in the act of drawing in Starlight, she imbued the Arcara with it. It was the highest quality starlight available. Wisps of it visibly trailed into the fingers of her left hand, her real flesh, as if guided by a reverse of the Shattered Palm. It fuelled her, and she let it. Her channels were meant to take the burn. As soon as her mana reached its bottom corner, Bremi ran up to her side, carrying a bucket of Stream Water, then dumped it over her head. She drew in the mana and maintained the cycle, staying level around a third full. ¡®One more week of this,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, ¡®and we¡¯ll be ready to advance.¡¯ ¡°Then, while we¡¯re standing here, we better work on that revelation.¡± Myrrir approached the Kamoro system after a few days of sailing. The Hyovao was fast, but it¡¯d still been a few days before he¡¯d managed to signal his ship, and it couldn¡¯t travel instantly. But he was most of the way to Admiral already. He just needed the revelation, and a powerful source of gunpowder. All that in account, he could wait. There were plenty of powder magazines across the galaxy, and he had suspicions about his revelation already. He had other, more important matters to attend to first. When they reached the surface, they sailed into the same dreary port that they had docked in during Myrrir¡¯s excursion on the planet. Myrrir instructed the crew to remain aboard¡ªhe didn¡¯t plan to be gone long¡ªand set off through the streets. It had only been a few months since he¡¯d been here last, but he didn¡¯t expect them to keep the corpses of the dead hanging in the streets. He kept his head down as he prowled through the muddy streets, his boots crunching on the gravel. Chances were, the Lieutenants had already moved off, and even if they hadn¡¯t, he was a Commodore again, with a full supply of mana. They wouldn¡¯t be able to stop him even if they wanted to. He passed through valleys of dark wood buildings, keeping away from the edges, where rain drizzled off the shingled eaves. Whenever he passed a patrol of bluecoats, he tucked his head down. They might recognize him, and they might not. It didn¡¯t matter. By nightfall, he found a small state cemetery at the outskirts of the port village, cordoned off by a simple, waist-high fence of driftwood. Stone obelisks marked the graves of fallen officers, wooden stakes for bluecoats, and unprotected wooden plaques for executed criminals¡ªexpected to rot away in years, leaving nothing behind. But for a man who had recently died, a plaque would still be legible. In the fading twilight, Myrrir marched up and down the rows, relying on his eyes and their reforged strength to read the plaques. Halfway down the last row, he found the plaque he was looking for. Tye Bukhe Rou. Sentenced to death by hanging for murder. Myrrir conjured a bracing technique around his hands, drawing gunpowder out of his flask, and began to dig with just his bare hands. No way was he leaving Tye¡¯s bones in the grave of a criminal. Chapter 39: Accumulation [Volume 4] When the Copperpeak summit was only a glistening amber arrowhead on the southern horizon, firmly behind Glade, he finally arrived at the Frostblade Shrine. He marched along a path of rusty brown pebbles. With each step, they clinked and rattled like coins. Shards of silver, polished steel and iron lined the road, all angled to the west¡ªaway from the wind¡ªand caked with a thin layer of snow. In the low patches, glens of leafless aspen trees bent away from the wind, permanently shaped. Most importantly, a creek burbled to his left, letting out a hollow jangle whenever it dipped down deeper into the earth¡ªuntil it ran along the base of a ravine, and he could no longer hear it over the rushing wind. He knew he¡¯d arrived at the shrine when he passed through a lonely, wall-less wooden gate arching over the path. Two aspen trunks supported its sides, stripped clean of bark, and a sideways trunk spanned the top, much wider than the gate was tall. A worn, oiled rope tied each junction together. He bowed his head as he passed through the gate, as he remembered Elder Eman-Fa doing, then approached the shrine beyond. It was a simple set of longhouses surrounded by a palisade. None of the windows shone, but a streak of smoke rose from the complex¡¯s far corner, ripped away by the wind and dragged across the landscape. Glade passed through a gap in the palisade and approached the central longhouse. If anyone was home, he hoped he¡¯d find them there. Inside the palisade, the winds were just as strong, but the ground was more even, and shrivelled weeds sprouted up along the central thoroughfare. He drew his sword, heeding the innkeeper¡¯s warning. And just in time. A deep, metallic growl chimed out behind him, seeping from the shadows behind a wooden longhouse. A pair of glowing white eyes appeared, then a wolf¡¯s snout made of silver crystal. It shook in the wind like fur. Then the rest of the wolf¡¯s head emerged. It was twice as large as a regular wolf, though at this point, Glade could barely say he knew what a regular wolf looked like. He¡¯d only seen a few in the depths of Thronehome. But a quick scan of its spirit revealed that it was only Master¡¯s Mate grade, maybe a little higher and nearing Third Lieutenant. It¡¯d be a problem for a regular mortal, but not for Glade anymore. He flourished his sword, then withdrew the swordwyrm from his corespace. ¡°Free ride is up, buddy,¡± Glade said. ¡°I think there will be more of these guys.¡± The swordwyrm spun around, then angled into the wind, keeping itself steady. ¡°Many swords. Very tasty.¡± ¡°If you want to eat them, you will have to kill them first,¡± Glade said. ¡°Help sword-friend!¡± the wyrm chittered. ¡°Yes, will help sword-friend!¡± ¡°Then let us get started.¡± The silverwolf leapt out of cover completely, and sure enough another trio prowled out of the shadows behind. It couldn¡¯t have been all of the pack even still, but they could deal with these ones and move on. Each of the silverwolves had a perfect coat of sword-like crystal, and when they growled, they revealed true steel daggers for teeth. Glade fuelled his enhanced body, then launched toward the nearest wolf. He dodged its teeth with a commodore¡¯s ease, then thrust his blade up through its chin. The point emerged from the other side of its head with a slick of black blood glistening on its tip. He ripped his sword and spun around. The swordwyrm batted away another wolf, keeping it at bay, and Glade engaged the other two. He chopped and sliced, enhancing his blade and concentrating its force to cleave off teeth. And when shards of metal broke off, he used his Reach technique to turn them into a free-floating hammer. He struck both wolves at the same time. When they presented openings, he used his speed to capitalize, driving a wisp of metal shards down one¡¯s throat, and hacking the other¡¯s head clean off its shoulders. At the same time, the swordwyrm wedged its enormous blade into the fourth wolf¡¯s mouth, then split its jaw and dragged itself a few feet down the beast¡¯s body, killing it in a flash and spewing black blood across the aspenwood wall of a nearby longhouse. Glade flourished his sword, then turned forward again. A fifth wolf had been prowling along the path toward them, but when it saw the carnage, it halted and backed away. It still growled, and still showed its fangs. It was regrouping. ¡°I guess they will make us clear the whole place out, then.¡± Glade flicked his sword to the side. ¡°Ready to eat a few more meals?¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Hungry!¡± the swordwyrm exclaimed. ¡°Then let us hunt.¡± For the next few days, Vayra stayed in the exact same position, keeping herself awake through concentrated willpower and holding herself in place with the strength of her mechanical arm wound into the rigging. She didn¡¯t have to focus on drawing anything in. Using her techniques and shielding the ship, holding it exactly where it was, did all that for her. With every hour that passed, she drew closer to Admiral. Eating, drinking? She still needed to, but with her enhanced and reforged body, she could a little while longer. But she¡¯d need a feast when she was done. But she still needed the revelation if any of this was going to work out. On the fourth day, as she funnelled her power, continually Warding the hull, she asked Phason¨¦, ¡°What was your Admiral revelation, then? How¡¯d you advance?¡± ¡® ¡°I will fight the Gods,¡± ¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°Explanation?¡± ¡®It¡¯s as it seems. There were always those seeds of discontent deep within me, and I knew I would ascend, but¡­I never realized I¡¯d end up fighting them until I reached Admiral.¡¯ Obviously, that wouldn¡¯t work for Vayra. She¡¯d known for a while that she¡¯d have to fight the Pantheon. Now, it seemed so immediate, that nothing about it could be a future revelation at all. She swallowed nervously, but didn¡¯t say anything, knowing that Phason¨¦ could detect those thoughts as well. But there was no reason to not try. She¡¯d still feel something if she knew the revelation, and she could use it to advance when she was ready. ¡°I will¡­see the galaxy?¡± Vayra said questioningly. But that wasn¡¯t a revelation. Of course she would. For all the times she¡¯d dreamed of leaving Tavelle, that was her one goal. ¡®No one knows their future, really,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®And nothing is set in stone. It makes the revelation even more difficult to reach when things are changing so fast. But there are moments in your life when you¡­realize that you know how you want things to change, and you know which direction you want to push things in. Why do you still strive, even now, to destroy Karmion?¡¯ ¡°You know.¡± ¡®I want you to say it and think about it.¡¯ ¡°I want to destroy Karmion so I can be done with this all¡­so that the galaxy won¡¯t need me, and so that everyone can go back and live their lives.¡± ¡®And yet, you¡¯re a somewhat selfish person¡­¡¯ ¡°You¡¯re leading me on,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡®Of course I am. I think I know what it is, but it won¡¯t do you any good if I just say it straight to your face.¡¯ Vayra growled softly, then said, ¡°Yes, I know I can be a bit selfish, but¡­¡± ¡®But it also makes you empathetic.¡¯ ¡°If I can understand why I dislike or like something, then I can understand why others want it, too, and I can do the right thing based on¡­myself?¡± ¡®Approximately. Now put it in reverse. Why do you want everyone else to go back to their lives?¡¯ ¡°Because I¡­I also want to have something beyond this.¡± ¡®Exactly. Turn it into a revelation, now, and keep purifying your Arcara.¡¯ Over the course of the week, Glade and the swordwyrm hunted and chased the rest of the silverwolves out of the shrine. Working together, they killed at least ten more, and scared away a pack of fifteen, before finally entering the center longhouse. A pair of glaive-monks had been sheltering around the embers of a fire, warming their hands, cleaning their vibrant lime-green robes, and polishing their glaives. The two of them were both mortals, and they were both humans as best as Glade could tell, with bald heads and ochre skin. Both had been staring at him as he entered, gazes unwavering. They¡¯d probably been watching for a lot longer, and had deemed him to be an unsuitable target, with the ease he¡¯d destroyed the silverwolves with. If such monks were even prone to attacking strangers, which they didn¡¯t seem terribly disposed to. ¡°Pardon the intrusion,¡± Glade had said. ¡°I have come to this sword shrine to pay respects to my old master and to bask in an area high in sword authority. Could you direct me to the best area for taking in the natural energies of this planet¡¯s blades?¡± Both of the monks had stared at each other for a few seconds, then communicated in hushed tones using a foreign language. After a few more seconds, the taller of the pair had turned to Glade and said, ¡°Up.¡± He pointed at the ceiling of the longhouse. It only had a single, central gloomy corridor, but higher above was a spire that poked out the center of it. ¡°Thank you, sirs,¡± Glade said. Then, he ducked down to a crouch and sprang up to the top of the spire, before clutching the walls and navigating up to the top. There was a simple platform, and it was there where he basked in the winds and drew on the nearby shards of steel. Flecks of metal floated in the wind, which he pulled into a pouch, or drew into his channels and let mix with his Arcara. Before advancing to Commodore, with his channels in a less physical state, it wouldn¡¯t have been possible, but now the boundary between arcane and physical was almost nonexistent. For the next few days, he remained at the peak, observing the way the wedges of the mountains around split the wind, concentrating wedges of force just like a sword. He traced the split paths by watching the snowflakes tumble in the air, then drew on the energy of the splits, the residual authority of the mountains, to drag the essence of swords into himself. On the last day, he had purified his Arcara to a high enough degree. He just needed to use it. It was time to advance. Chapter 40: The Kick [Volume 4] Myrrir arrived at the Moro-Ka village after a multi-day trek through the mountains. He kept his hand immersed in a stolen barrel of gunpowder (the Elderworld garrison wouldn¡¯t miss it) and purified the concept of his Arcara as he walked. He was almost where he needed to be in order to advance. Just a few more days with this concentration of gunpowder, and he¡¯d trigger the Admiral advancement. A wagon rumbled along behind him, hosting the rotten remains of Tye¡¯s corpse and a healthy helping of wet mud and dirt. In hindsight, maybe it had been a bad idea to move the corpse, but Myrrir wasn¡¯t going to back down now. He didn¡¯t even know his old first officer¡¯s burial wishes, but this had to be the best he could do. The sun was setting by the time he reached the edge of the mountain village. It sat at the center of a deep valley like silt in a riverbed. The houses were scattered and rustic, with thatched roofs and plain walls, and only a few had chimneys puffing smoke. The stables and fields, once filled with the Moro-Ka warriors¡¯ horses, were now empty. No young recruits swung their Jai swords in the fields, and no parades of riders charged by. A few villagers stared at him in the distance, but they said nothing. This place would never be what it once was. Myrrir didn¡¯t enter the village. He didn¡¯t understand their customs well, even after all the time he¡¯d spent. He doubted they¡¯d appreciate him burying a dead body near any of their paths, or even within common walking distance. He backed away again, until the village was just a few columns of smoke and glowing specks in the valley, then stopped and dropped the wagon. It didn¡¯t have a horse to pull it; he had just been lugging it along with a Reach technique¡ªcoiled Arcara around the empty yoke of the wagon. Then, immersed in waist-high grass, far from the main trails of the villagers, Myrrir bent down and again dug with his bare hands. He shovelled out a hole a couple feet deep. There was no sense or reason to go six feet down, and people were rarely buried that deep anymore. With how many people died on the battlefields, there wasn¡¯t time to dig proper graves for them all. Once he had a grave deep enough that nothing could reasonably disturb Tye¡¯s bones, he dragged the man¡¯s remains down. The man¡¯s clothes were in tatters, and the stench was nearly unbearable. Only a small possession remained untouched: a silver canister on a chain, hanging around Tye¡¯s neck, exposed only now because of the man¡¯s decaying clothes. Myrrir would have let it be. He wasn¡¯t about to rob a grave after coming all this way to honour his old first mate. Until he noticed a thin inscription on the bottom of the canister. It would¡¯ve been too small for his eyes to read had he been below Commodore. For Myrrir. Myrrir shut his eyes, then snapped the canister off the chain with a tug. He tucked it into his pocket, then buried the rest of the corpse, until all that remained was a simple patch of disturbed mud. That wouldn¡¯t do. He scoured the fields for rocks until he had an armful, then he built a heap atop the head of the grave. Even when the grass grew over the patch and Tye¡¯s memory disappeared entirely, the pile of stones would remain. For a few minutes, Myrrir knelt in front of the pile of stones, his body running cold, his shoulders jerking up and down. For a few minutes, he couldn¡¯t breathe, and he allowed himself to stop cycling Arcara. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°This time, so truly sorry¡­you were a father to me, a better father than Nilsenir ever was. I wish I¡¯d seen it sooner.¡± He wiped his eyes, let out one last sob, then leaned back. ¡°I want to be satisfied. I know what I have to do.¡± He said nothing for a few more minutes, then finally, pulled the canister out of his pocket and unscrewed the cap. A slip of parchment lay inside, along with some jade-green dust at the very bottom that bubbled and heaved, almost like it was breathing. He pulled the parchment out and unfolded it, then scanned it quickly. Myrrir. If you are reading this, then I am dead, and I imagine you have made a grave mistake. I hope that, by the time you find this, it is not too late to change course. Please understand: I only wanted the best for you. I hope you have learned, and if not, I hope that this might be the final push. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The Gods¡¯ ways are not right. There is honour in a peaceful life. But I also understand that you may not be able to leave so easily, nor will circumstances let you. For that reason, I have prepared a Jai spirit for you. The Moro-Ka god-heirs embedded them in their swords upon advancing to Grand Admiral, enabling their abilities and drawing on the spirit¡¯s power even further. Once you are free, Myrrir, leave them. There is more to life than advancement. There is more. Myrrir folded the slip of parchment up neatly, then tucked it into the stack of rocks. ¡°I will not become a God.¡± He stood up and took one last look at the village, then fastened the canister around his neck. ¡°I¡¯ll come back, Tye. But first, I have debts to pay.¡± Just when Vayra thought she couldn¡¯t stay on her feet anymore, he core pulsed, and her Arcara blazed, beckoning her to advance. She just needed to trigger it. Turning away from the black hole, the burning eye behind her, she staggered down from the railing and landed in a crouch. Her hair flopped down in front of her face, and Stream water dripped off her shoulders. She wanted desperately to stop shielding the ship, but if she let go, they¡¯d all die. She kept pouring her shield into the boards. The winds blasted across the deck, trying to rip her off, but she widened her stance and bent down to place a hand on the deck. ¡°Captain Pels!¡± she shouted. ¡°Yes?¡± He, a navigator, and a pair of lieutenants ran to the front railing of the quarterdeck, looking down on her. ¡°Give us the kick! Get us out of here! I¡¯m ready!¡± ¡°We¡¯re on it!¡± Pels motioned to one of the lieutenants on the main deck and made a hand signal, then shouted, ¡°All hands! Drop the mainsails and fasten the halyards! Make for the open Stream!¡± He ran down the stairs to her side, then said, ¡°We¡¯re dropping the fins at once. Can you keep them together?¡± ¡°Just be quick!¡± she said through clenched teeth. Her core pulsed and shuddered, demanding advancement, and she could barely resist it. If she waited any longer, it might go on its own, or it might collapse in on itself, and she wouldn¡¯t be able to use any techniques either way. The Harmony¡¯s Streamrunning fins dropped into place and the gossamyr sails fluttered out to their full opening size, and the ship lurched forward, wrenched from the singularity¡¯s tug by an enormous kick of speed. They accelerated, and Vayra slid back across the deck, her boots skidding over the boards, until her back pressed against the quarterdeck door. By the time the singularity was a distant speck, they took a broad loop around, circling back the way they came¡ªback toward Swordhaven and the Shattered Moon. Vayra dropped the shields and shook out her hands, then breathed a few times to catch her breath. But just letting her guard down for a few seconds was enough to push her core to the brink. ¡®You have the revelation?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡°I do,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡± ¡®Use it now, or you¡¯ll botch the advancement!¡¯ ¡°Alright!¡± Vayra took one last deep breath, then said, ¡°I will have a life afterward.¡± A jolt of Arcara seared through her core, and her core and soul resonated in synchronization. She dropped to her knees, and an invisible wind swirled around her, pulling on her skin and liquifying her muscles. Her body was reforging again. Just keep cycling, keep concentrating, and coordinating everything. Soon, it¡¯d all come together. ¡®You have to guide it,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®Direct the Arcara and control the reforging process.¡¯ Her muscles hardened and firmed, staying lean and perfect for speed and endurance. She allowed filaments to run through them, guided strands of Arcara, where she wanted her improved healing abilities to flow, better able to mitigate and repair damage. No¡­strands wasn¡¯t right. Her feathers. She wrapped new patterns of red feathers through in loops, pushing them in a circle and forming vambraces on her forearms, or thin strands up her arms, or a thick swirl around her navel. More sprouted from behind her ears and wound up her neck, guiding her powers of healing and self-restoration. After all, she was a half-phoenix. Her channels reforged once more, building themselves back with a robust network of strands and strings. Lastly came her skin. She built layers of it up over her original form, initially smooth and soft, then tough and elastic, then¡­hard and brittle. But none of those were in alignment with her overall form. The abilities of her Astral Shroud made her fast, and her internal Wards allowed her to pass straight through objects for a short period of time. She altered the outer layer of her body, turning it from a tough shield into a breaker, something to part the air, to allow her to pass through faster, to push up against the fabric of the world. The Steelvein body agreed with her, and the purpose resonated. The whirlwind of invisible wind and white sparks culminated in an explosion of force, then disappeared altogether, leaving her laying on her back and staring up at the whirling stars above. She had to close her eyes and push away the stimulus, to just let herself rest. When she opened her eyes, she¡¯d been asleep for a few days. When she opened her eyes, though, she was an Admiral. Chapter 41: He Just Wants to Talk... [Volume 4] Glade reforged his interior before he even began on his skin, or anything verging on his exterior form. He started from his very core, letting the revelation resonate. ¡°I will make my own way.¡± Simple, but effective. Kalawen had urged him to draw on his hubris, hoping he¡¯d cripple himself with a half-baked advancement, but he knew the truth lay between. He couldn¡¯t afford complete self-deprecation¡ªthose were Nathariel¡¯s teachings¡ªbut the opposite couldn¡¯t be true, either. Humility was the way forward. Creating one¡¯s own destiny couldn¡¯t be a foreign concept, especially not in the grand picture of the Stream and all those involved, all those who drew on it, so the chance of it being an act of hubris was¡­slim. Glade didn¡¯t believe it to be an act of hubris, at least. Making his own path didn¡¯t mean he had to be the best. It just meant he had to do everything in his power to support those who had the weight of destiny heaped on them. A whirlwind of sparks rushed around him, shrouding him during the reforging process. Unlike the base reforging, from Quartermaster to Master¡¯s Mate, it wasn¡¯t an uncomfortable process. But it was mentally rigourous and will-draining. He moved out from his core and reforged his muscles, etching lines of Arcara through them and improving the wells his mana would pool in, improving their raw strength without bulking them up. Next came the true boost of the enhancement¡ªhardening his skin. Most ancient swordsmen wore thick plate armour, but he couldn¡¯t afford such a heavy addition for such little benefit. The Shattered Moon guards¡¯ blue jade armour was the closest one would get to effective armour in the modern day, and even then, if could only take a single hit from a God-heir¡¯s strike before breaking. But Glade wasn¡¯t fighting in a massive group. A team, yes, but he wasn¡¯t a foot soldier in an army. He layered tough but elastic sections of skin atop each other, firming them up and strengthening them without turning them brittle. Like a sword, it had to bend with impacts. It had to block more than one hit. He poured Arcara out into it, first turning it to glass, then through his will, alchemizing it to something akin to steel. Flesh-coloured steel. He collapsed a moment later, once all his Arcara was spent and the sparks stopped rushing, and he lay on the ground, unmoving and panting. He was an Admiral now. But he couldn¡¯t stay here forever. Soon, the Harmony would return, and he couldn¡¯t get left behind. He had a tournament to win. Myrrir sailed back to the Shattered Moon as an Admiral. For the first time, he felt nothing from advancing a stage. Nothing. He thought he¡¯d never know such an empty feeling, but here it was. But when he returned to Shatterport and vaulted over the gunwale of his ship, landing in a crouch on the boards of the pier. He looked back up at the officers waiting on the quarterdeck. ¡°Get out of here,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s going to be trouble and chaos, and I don¡¯t want you guys getting caught up in it all.¡± ¡°Sir,¡± said the coxswain, still holding the Hyovao¡¯s tiller, ¡°if things go to hell, you¡¯ll be trapped here. No way off.¡± ¡°And if I die, I don¡¯t want any more of you getting hurt. Go.¡± He motioned away like he was trying to dissuade a fly, and it came out more sarcastic and frustrated than he intended. ¡°If I don¡¯t make it, thank you for all you¡¯ve done.¡± After retrieving Glade, the Harmony sailed back to the Shattered Moon. Vayra clung to the forecastle¡¯s front railing the whole way, watching for the moon and its parent gas giant to rise up over the Stream¡¯s subtle curve. They were almost late. She¡¯d have liked to leave a day earlier, but they needed all the time they could get to advance to Admiral, and now, they were pushing it close to the deadline. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. She wasn¡¯t sure how much time they had left when they sailed into Shatterport, but with how she¡¯d been keeping track of the ship¡¯s watches, she guessed she had anywhere from a half hour to three. As soon as the Harmony sloshed up to its pier, she leapt over the railing and jumped down. Glade followed a moment later, hand on the hilt of his sword. She was about to run off toward the arena when Captain Pels yelled, ¡°Wait! Are we staying here or not?¡± ¡°Stay here and¡­wait for King Tallerion to return!¡± she called. There were still four or five Velaydian ships at their section of the pier. Not nearly as many as before, but enough that the Harmony could stick with them and not arouse any suspicions. But if they needed a quick escape, or a ship for any purpose, it was better to have their vessel close by. ¡°We couldn¡¯t have done that last time?¡± Pels groaned. ¡°Nope! Last time, there weren¡¯t any other ships to blend in with! And we hadn¡¯t announced our entry!¡± ¡°That was the first time! I meant after our excursion to chase Karmion!¡± Vayra shook her head. ¡°It was habit! Sorry! But you can stay now, and we¡¯ve gotta go!¡± Without waiting for Pels¡¯s response, she took off down the pier, though she still imagined him grumbling under his breath. Though it¡¯d tire her out and use mana, she had no other choice. She activated the Astral Shroud and took off through the streets. Glade, riding on his swordwyrm, was fast, but not fast enough to keep pace. But her next fight was before his. As if on purpose, they¡¯d slotted her to confront Myrrir first¡ªthe first fight of the set. She tucked her head and sprinted, feet landing lightly on the pavement but air blasting around her. Now, she was moving so fast the wind scraped at her skin, threatening to tear it off and burn her alive. Had she not been a half-phoenix, she might have combusted. A cone of air accumulated around her, then it compressed into a massive boom. The nearby windows shattered, and in a flash, a wall of a building approached. She activated her internal Wards, willing herself to temporarily pass through the building, and she did. She bent the fabric of the galaxy around herself and passed through to the other side of the building without so much as a scratch¡ªor leaving a scratch behind. When she left the city, her path was straighter and easier to follow. She passed along the main road to the arena, ducking between wagons and swerving. As fast as she was moving, she couldn¡¯t afford to think about it. She relied on Adair¡¯s instincts to navigate the road, his perfect reflexes. A journey that would¡¯ve previously taken a fifteen minutes at the Commodore stage now only took eight. The arena rose up above the eternal autumn trees of the moon¡¯s central continent, and she blazed right into the main foyer before deactivating the Astral Shroud and skittering to a halt. She nearly slammed into an interior wall, but she stopped just in time. The crowd was cheering, but there weren¡¯t any announcements yet. She was just in time. She ran down an interior hallway, aiming for her entrance. This time, she didn¡¯t use any abilities. Both the Astral Shroud and the internal Ward had dropped her to nearly a quarter-full of mana, and she¡¯d need to refill before the fight. She probably wouldn¡¯t be able to top herself up all the way with the time she had left, but anything was better than nothing. When she reached the first entrance to the fighting floor, she charged in, panting, only to find Myrrir standing alone in the dark waiting room, his weapons sheathed. He was staring forward blankly. ¡°Whoops,¡± Vayra whispered. She backed out, trying to return to the hallway, when Myrrir said, ¡°Mediator! Vayra! Wait, I¡ª¡± Before he could try anything, she stepped back out into the hallway. She needed to get to the other entrance, and preferably before the fight started. It was on the opposite side of the arena. Outside, the crowd¡¯s roar crescendoed, and Karmion¡¯s muffled voice slipped through the cracks in the stone walls. She couldn¡¯t parse what he was saying, not beneath the pounding in her ears or the thudding of her footsteps, but he wasn¡¯t introducing the contestants yet. It was just an opening introduction. When she reached the other side of the arena, King Tallerion¡¯s aide stood outside her waiting room with his arms crossed. ¡°Ms. Vayra!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°You had us all in knots over here, worried for your whereabouts! And over here, look, there¡¯s another woman who wishes to speak with you!¡± He motioned to the other side of the hallway, where Ameena¡ªthe lapin woman¡ªstood. ¡°How much time do I have?¡± Vayra panted. ¡°Three minutes, by my reckoning,¡± said the aide. ¡°My king tasked me with watching over your progress, so that is what I¡¯ll do!¡± ¡°There¡¯s time, Vayra,¡± Ameena said, pushing away from the wall and stepping toward Vayra. ¡°You need to listen to me.¡± ¡°Right, then¡­¡± She looked at the aide and asked, ¡°Can you get me a bucket of Stream water, please?¡± ¡°It will be done, ma¡¯am,¡± he said, then dipped off into the waiting room. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Vayra asked, turning back toward Ameena. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going wrong, if that¡¯s what you mean,¡± she said. She¡¯d donned her robe of white bandages and intertwined twigs again. ¡°But I spoke with Myrrir. Well, he spoke with me, really, he intercepted me for a conversation.¡± Vayra rolled her lip inward and chewed it for a second. She wasn¡¯t sure if she should or could trust Ameena yet, but Glade did, so Vayra probably could as well. ¡°What¡¯d you talk about? He¡¯s trying to pull something on me?¡± ¡°He went through me because he thought I was neutral, though¡­you got me out of that experiment chamber of Larra¡¯s, and my experiences with Glade have been pleasant enough. You two aren¡¯t¡­dating, are you?¡± ¡°Uh¡­no?¡± ¡°Sorry, got sidetracked.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have much time,¡± Vayra stressed. ¡°Yes, yes, so he¡ªMyrrir¡ªsaid he was planning on travelling to a world of significance to him,¡± she said. ¡°In the break, I mean, trying to advance to Admiral. And he said that he wanted to seek a higher form of purpose. He wanted to prove to you that he is capable of helping you, and so, in that way, he would purposely lose this fight.¡± ¡°No!¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°He can¡¯t!¡± She wasn¡¯t looking forward to fighting him, but in this case, in this situation, when they were finally evenly matched? She was so close to getting back at him, putting those fears to rest. ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe it,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Why? Why would he do that?¡± ¡°He says he¡¯s changed. He wants to prove it to you.¡± Chapter 42: Rematch [Volume 4] Vayra stepped out into the center of the arena. She¡¯d restored a chunk of her mana before entering, but it only brought her up to about halfway full, even consciously drawing the substance in. That¡¯d have to be enough for the first round. She held her hand up, shielding her eyes from the sunlight-made projection of Karmion above the arena. People still poured into the audience stands, and the crowds seethed. High above, Karmion hovered, a black speck in the sky observing everything. And on the opposite side of the arena, Myrrir marched out to face her. He was going to purposely lose? What if this was just a ruse to get her to lower her guard, then suddenly, he¡¯d let out a burst of techniques and defeat her? Or worse, what if everyone saw him surrender without a fight, and accused her of rigging the matches? That wouldn¡¯t project strength for Velaydia, and she¡¯d might be disqualified, well before she intended to. She tightened her fists and engaged a rapid, combat-focussed cycling pattern. ¡®Keep your head on straight,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®You just need to win, no matter how that looks. But don¡¯t let your impulses get away from you. If Myrrir surrenders, you have to let him, otherwise you will look bad and unmerciful.¡¯ ¡°I understand,¡± she whispered, then approached the center line. For good measure, she conjured her scythe. There were no introductions this time. By now, if the audience didn¡¯t know who the contestants were, that was their own fault. The projections above shifted to display Myrrir and Vayra. She stared at him. She locked her gaze with his and didn¡¯t pull away. His face was unreadable, statuesque, and he didn¡¯t hint whether he was going to give in or not. By all accounts, he was going to attack. It was the right stance, everything. ¡®He knows as well as you do that he can¡¯t just lay down and let you win,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Everyone would see. He has to put on a good show.¡¯ Vayra narrowed her eyes, and so did Myrrir, as if he was trying to read her expression as well. Partially, she wished she had a mental link with him, but she also dreaded to see the inside of his mind. The projection of them zoomed out, showing a less detailed, smaller depiction of the pair. No one would notice their lips moving, now, were they to speak. Vayra half begged him to say something first, but he didn¡¯t open his mouth, let alone speak to her. Before she could try to ask him his intentions, the trumpet blast sounded, signalling the start of the fight. She sprang forward, not willing to take a risk, and slashed at him with her scythe. He ripped his jade sword from its sheath and blocked her strike, then twisted around and bound their weapons together. They faced each other, heads only a few inches away. ¡°Did you meet Ameena?¡± Myrrir hissed. ¡°Did she tell you?¡± ¡°She did,¡± Vayra whispered back. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I believe you.¡± ¡°If it will make you trust me, I¡¯ll throw aside my sword right now.¡± ¡°No!¡± Vayra hissed. ¡°If you do that, they¡¯ll know you gave up, and it¡¯ll reflect poorly on us both.¡± ¡°Then¡ª¡± ¡°Fight your hardest,¡± she said, ¡°and I will win. I can. I need to. If I can¡¯t overcome you on my own merit, then I can¡¯t overcome anyone.¡± She stared intensely at him. ¡°If you want to prove you¡¯ve changed, then surrender when I give you a chance, when you¡¯re properly defeated, and don¡¯t try anything tricky afterward.¡± ¡°Very well. Give it everything you have.¡± ¡°Are you¡­concerned?¡± ¡°If I die, I will have deserved it.¡± She squinted, then spun her scythe to the side, freeing herself from Myrrir¡¯s grasp and backing away. His sword bit through the ground, the superheated gemstone melting the sand and leaving a glowing gash. Vayra needed to end this fast. A drawn-out confrontation would drain her mana, then she¡¯d lose immediately. She layered all her abilities, all except the Mediator Form¡ªusing that wouldn¡¯t prove anything¡ªand darted in. Myrrir hadn¡¯t fought her with her Astral Shroud active before, and she wanted to see how well her internal Warding allowed her to pass through objects. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. But he¡¯d seen her fight before, and clearly, he¡¯d been paying attention. He countered her speed by leading his sword swipes and placing his weapon into her path rather than trying to fight her directly. She swatted his sword out of the way a few times, and ignored a few swipes with her internal Warding, but when he brought his gunpowder into play, he negated her slippery nature. A strand of gunpowder wrapped around her arm, black beads swirling, and she tried to pass straight through it. It would¡¯ve worked, but Myrrir tracked her with it, and eventually, even with her internal Warding, it stuck and held. He slammed her to the ground, negating any speed she¡¯d built up, but she blasted through it with a Starlight Palm, scattering the gunpowder beads across the ground and freeing herself. She kicked up to her feet and closed the distance. Myrrir was, in many ways, just better. He had so many more years of experience, and even if they were both recent Admirals, at nearly the exact same power level, he had a leg up in sheer skill. ¡®You¡¯re at a quarter of your mana,¡¯ Phason¨¦ chimed. ¡®Do something to destroy him. Need me to lend a hand?¡¯ ¡°No. I¡¯m doing this myself.¡± She had to overwhelm him. His spirit was weak, damaged, and strained to its peak. She could crack it. She drew on Adair¡¯s reflexes, then shot back into action, streaming back toward Myrrir in a beam of white light, before unleashing a chain of blows that sent him staggering back across the arena. He blocked most of them, but a few Starlight Palms ripped through, forcing him to Ward himself. He held his sword up, about to attack, but she swiped from the side at the same time, putting as much force as she could into the strike¡ªwith a standard Bracing technique and flooding her mechanical arm with as much power as she could. The sword tumbled out of his loose grasp. Before he could attack with gunpowder, she whirled her scythe up to his throat. ¡°Surrender. Get yourself ready for round two. And don¡¯t hold back.¡± ¡°Are you¡­alright?¡± he asked. ¡°You know¡­in the head?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she snapped. ¡°Worry about yourself. I still don¡¯t trust you.¡± He picked up his sword, then trudged off to his side of the arena. She deactivated all her techniques and walked back to her side, where a bucket of Stream water waited. Glade stood beside it. He¡¯d¡­arrived, sometime during the fight. The aide stood a few paces behind, his hands folded professionally behind his back, and even further back was Ameena, who leaned on her staff and yawned. ¡®If he is an ally, we don¡¯t want to crush him and break his spirit,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her as she walked over to them. ¡®He may yet help us.¡¯ ¡°Maybe,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°But we need to move to the next round more than he does.¡± ¡®And we might need him when everything falls apart.¡¯ She shut her eyes, then inhaled. ¡°Alright. I won¡¯t try to push him too far. We¡¯ll win as fast as we can.¡± ¡®You proved that you could do it without me, without the Mediator Form. Is that evidence enough that you have improved beyond Myrrir?¡¯ Vayra dunked her hands in the bucket of Stream water, filling her mana back up, and the aide handed her a flask of freshwater for drinking. She downed it, then passed it back to him. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°You are welcome,¡± said the aide. ¡°Are you feeling alright?¡± ¡®Vayra, please don¡¯t ignore me.¡¯ ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Glade scratched the back of his head. She exhaled, then stood up. ¡°I assume Ms. Rabbit over here filled you in on the situation?¡± She tilted her head toward Ameena. ¡°I told Glade what I told you,¡± Ameena said. ¡°Myrrir approached me and asked me to¡ªpardon the phrasing¡ªMediate.¡± Vayra let out another tight breath, then said, ¡°Phas, I wanted to hurt him. I was close to hacking his head off.¡± ¡°Remember the arena on Limasennor?¡± Glade asked. ¡°What was it, the two tieflings, who killed our dragonfolk roommates?¡± ¡°Yeah, I remember.¡± ¡°You almost did the same thing. Grow beyond, Vayra.¡± Glade crossed his arms. ¡°Prove how far you have come in the speed and efficiency you can defeat Myrrir, with how little thought it will take you¡ªand with the help of Phason¨¦. You two are one, now. You always have been.¡± Vayra hung her head, then rubbed her mechanical arm. Myrrir had made every effort to show her that he could change, and he¡¯d been right. At the moment, they had to trust him¡ªand that started with her. ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re right. All of you¡ªincluding you, Phas. I¡¯ll get back out there and deal with Myrrir, but I won¡¯t crack him. And¡­maybe then, we can let him help us. We can work with him.¡± Once the half-hour break finished and she¡¯d filled up all her mana, she returned to the center of the arena. Again, she stared at Myrrir, silent. He wore the same expression as before, indicating no sign of change. Which, in this case, was a good thing. He wasn¡¯t going back on his word. As soon as the trumpet blast sounded, she layered her techniques back up, then attacked. She didn¡¯t conjure the scythe immediately¡ªshe¡¯d need Phason¨¦¡¯s help to end this quickly. Phason¨¦¡¯s ghost emerged, and Vayra fed it mana. They both converged from opposite directions, unleashing strikes and pushing Myrrir back across the arena until they reached the moat. He leapt overhead, Bracing his legs, then landed in a crouch behind her and Phason¨¦. They spun around immediately and continued pummelling him, until finally, he released his grip on his sword, and the rest of his gunpowder scattered across the sand. Vayra drew her pistol and pointed it at Myrrir¡¯s chest. Arcara swirled in the palm of her hand, only an exertion of will away from firing out a Reach technique and blasting a hole through Myrrir¡¯s heart. He raised his hands and cut off all Arcara flow in his body. ¡°I surrender.¡± Vayra¡¯s fingers trembled, and she swallowed. Phason¨¦¡¯s projection stared at her. ¡°You tried your hardest?¡± Vayra demanded. ¡°I did.¡± She pulled the pistol away and cut off her own techniques, then tucked it back into her robe¡¯s sash. As she walked away, Myrrir gave her a small, subtle dip of his chin. She returned the gesture. Chapter 43: Gathering [Volume 4] Over the past two weeks, King Tallerion had been busy. His fleet crossed over the Line of Battle and sailed into Velaydian space once more. When they arrived at the planet of Farpoint, a central location only a few days¡¯ sail from the Shattered Moon, he stopped. As soon as they¡¯d left the Shattered Moon, they¡¯d sent out messenger fishes to all their major naval ports, requesting ships and reinforcements. Some already arrived at Farpoint before he arrived. Nearly a hundred warships lined its Stream-facing coast, their sails furled and anchors weighed. Most were simple galleons, but there were a few men of war among them. Farpoint, a temperate, terrestrial planet with green forests and pleasant prairies, was perfect for mustering a large fleet. Its winds were calm and its waves gentle, and it had a broad but deep Stream-facing coast. The little shoreline villages wouldn¡¯t be enough to support the fleet for long, and there were only enough piers to make the most important repairs. Most importantly, on the subtle cliffs of the coast, ancient entrances to the planet¡¯s Vale Chambers clung to the wall, beckoning distant adventurers. When the runes lit up, they would know it was time. Flotillas of rowboats rushed to and fro, paddling between the larger vessels and distributing supplies, weapons, and crew. They parted before Tallerion¡¯s ship, however, and distant cries of ¡°Make way for the king!¡± rang out across the water. Tallerion, standing at the front railing of his ship¡¯s afterdeck, scanned side to side, trying to observe his fleet. ¡°We have twenty ships from Tavelle, my lord,¡± said a low-aide with a clipboard and a sheet of parchment. He wore a pale green coat and a simple wig beneath his tricorn hat. Another low-aide approached from the other direction and said, ¡°Your majesty, I count thirty in the fleet from Ballenor and ten from Stormeye.¡± ¡°Very good,¡± said Tallerion. ¡°We will muster all we can.¡± He heaved a sigh. ¡°If they¡¯ve heard of our results in the tournament, and our successes so far, they may be more willing to donate ships. If not¡­it is possible that fleets forsake us.¡± He walked over to the starboard railing on stiff legs. ¡°If they believe our effort is doomed, they will not help.¡± ¡°Your majesty,¡± one of the low-aides said, ¡°Lord Nerren from Taria wants to know why we are making an excursion deep into Elderworld territory, and why we need such a massive fleet.¡± He held up a messenger fish and unfurled a sheet of parchment from its mouth. ¡°We need enough numbers to break their lines and evacuate the civilians from the Shattered Moon,¡± said King Tallerion. ¡°Shall I tell him it is our duty to¡­life, then?¡± the aide asked. ¡°No, that will not convince Mr. Narren.¡± Tallerion shook his head. ¡°Tell him that we must prove to the people of the galaxy that we are willing to help where their Gods forsake them. Such a maneuver will lessen Karmion¡¯s sway and weaken his abilities as an Emissary, making it easier for the Mediator to defeat him.¡± ¡°Very good, sire.¡± The aide backed away and began scrawling down a note on the backside of the parchment sheet. ¡°My lord, is there truly a chance of victory?¡± asked the other low-aide. ¡°What can mortal men do to a God?¡± ¡°If more come, if we can muster a fleet a thousand ships strong, we stand a chance,¡± said Tallerion. ¡°I will not say it is a high chance, but our odds of survival will be much lower if we wait any longer, or if we retreat behind our borders and let the Gods destroy us. But we will be placing our faith in the Mediator.¡± King Tallerion shut his eyes, recalling his first meeting with her. She¡¯d been nervous, but she had just as much reason to fight Karmion as the rest of them, whether she truly aligned with Velaydia or not. ¡°Very¡­very good, sir,¡± said the aide. ¡°I will keep watch for more fleets.¡± Vayra tapped her foot inside her boot, watching and waiting for Glade¡¯s fight to begin. He marched out across the arena, facing a bulky half-ogre with a mace. The half-ogre had long brown hair wound into dreadlocks, perfectly framing his pale face and making his unnaturally saturated blue eyes stand out even more. Being a descendant of Karmion, he wore a long cloak with rippling sea-foam at its end and a tricorn hat with a watery plume. Blue tattoos made tendrils up his bare chest, writhing as if they were alive. He had advanced to Admiral as well, though judging by the miniscule amount of free Arcara in his channel system, he had just advanced recently¡ªeven more recently than Glade had. A long trumpet tone signalled the start of the fight, and Glade and the swordwyrm closed the distance as quickly as they could. Glade parried mace blows and dodged tendrils of rushing water. The swordwyrm harried and blocked, flying free around the arena. Once, it drew too close to the edge, and Karmion swatted it back inward with a pulse of water from the moat. It bounced along the arena floor a few feet before floating back up and rejoining Glade. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He was working hard, but he wasn¡¯t struggling, and Vayra wasn¡¯t concerned. While she watched, half paying attention, she summoned Adair out of her corespace. He ran along the railing of the viewing platform, then laid down and tucked his head onto his paws. ¡°So¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°For Grand Admiral, we¡¯ll need to bond with a spirit-beast, hm? How¡­how does that bond work?¡± ¡®You¡¯ll cement a firm relationship with one, to the point that its soul binds to your core.¡¯ ¡°So it¡¯s not like us, where we have a soul pact and a bond that way, right?¡± ¡®Our souls are bound together, intertwined,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®If you wanted to use Adair as your springboard for your Grand Admiral advancement, you¡¯ll need to take his burgeoning soul and wrap it around your core, using it as a reinforcement to hold the advancement together. You¡¯re making soulmatter, bringing your core into a more real plane of existence to match your channels. As a bonus, his abilities will become firmly ingrained in your being, and you won¡¯t have to think about drawing on them anymore.¡¯ Vayra scratched the back of her head. ¡°Will that destroy him, though? I don¡¯t want to consume his soul for an advancement. That¡¯s¡­that doesn¡¯t sound like a good thing to do. I wouldn¡¯t want someone to consume my soul.¡± ¡®If you do it before the beast gains sapience, then yes, it will destroy their form,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°What was your spirit, then?¡± ¡®It was a Star-eye,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®A little starlight spirit from Mircur, a planet that was drifting to the edge of its habitable zone, tidally locked¡ªwith half of its surface always facing its sun and the other half facing away. I found the little beast on the dark side. It had no mind, and almost no soul to speak of.¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t see any¡­obvious changes to your body?¡± Vayra said. ¡®You think my eyes were naturally yellow, do you?¡¯ ¡°I¡­I guess not.¡± ¡®That¡¯s how,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®But it didn¡¯t have much of a soul to speak of, so there was no sapience to destroy, and the beast was completely consumed. With Adair? You¡¯d only be hosting parts of his soul. It¡¯d have its own identity, though you wouldn¡¯t notice a thing.¡¯ ¡°Is it different?¡± ¡®It is, in theory, stronger. It has drawbacks. Like¡­well, he can¡¯t go too far from you, and he¡¯ll feel much more comfortable in your corespace than outside.¡¯ Vayra raised her eyes. ¡°I think he already is, considering how much time he spends in there.¡± ¡®True enough.¡¯ ¡°But if it won¡¯t kill him, then I¡¯ll use him,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I suppose Glade will use the swordwyrm?¡± ¡®That¡¯d make the most sense to me.¡¯ She leaned forward on the railing. ¡°Now, I suppose the spirit bonding is the last step? I¡¯ll have to prepare myself before then, won¡¯t I?¡± ¡®Yes. You¡¯ll need to form an external Arcara cycling loop between you and Adair, passing Arcara and mana between the both of you until it is stable. Once its stable, you just need to build up enough of a base to draw out the Essence of his soul and wrap it around your own core.¡¯ ¡°Understood.¡± Vayra clicked her tongue, beckoning Adair closer, and he pranced along the railing back toward her¡ªand just in time for the crowd to roar to a peak. Adair jumped, then scrambled up her mechanical arm and clung to the back of her robe. ¡°It¡¯s alright. Glade just won the first round¡­wait, they¡¯re cheering?¡± She tilted her head, then glanced side to side across the audience risers far below. ¡°Why are they cheering for Glade and not Karmion¡¯s child?¡± ¡®That wasn¡¯t his son. At best, a great grandson.¡¯ Phason¨¦ mumbled something, then added, ¡®They¡¯re little tyrants, those descended from him. They thought they were something special and set up little fiefdoms, and people dislike them more than Glade. Him winning¡­will improve our standing in their eyes.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re not afraid?¡± ¡®Karmion can¡¯t kill them all. Won¡¯t kill them all.¡¯ ¡°I suppose¡ª¡± King Tallerion¡¯s aide tapped her on the shoulder, then said, ¡°Miss, there is a visitor waiting. He is waiting just below this viewing platform, and he was asking about you. His name is Myrrir, and he appears to have been your opponent from the previous round. Should I allow him inside?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Vayra chewed her bottom lip. ¡°I guess. Yes. Let him in.¡± ¡°Very well, miss.¡± A few moments later, Myrrir¡¯s bootsteps clunked across the floor behind her. His brass armour clanked, and his robes swished. ¡°Vayra,¡± he said. ¡°Do you have a moment to talk? I won¡¯t be long.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± She kept looking forward, though instinctively, she trained her spiritual perception, wary of all danger. He didn¡¯t radiate a threat anymore. ¡°I understand that you must have your reservations about me,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°But I¡¯m trying to be better. I¡¯m going to advance to Grand Admiral, but I¡¯ll never be a God. I have to accept that, and I may struggle at times, but¡­my spirit is crippled. I¡¯m not sure how much longer I can hold everything together.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have to hold on for much longer,¡± Vayra said. She then told him about the Ko-Ganall, and that they had confirmed his story about the weapons to be true. ¡°Why? Why are you trying to help us?¡± ¡°I want to be satisfied. You never met him, but¡­my first mate was a good man, better than I ever deserved, and I want to do right by him. If I somehow survive this, I will live out my last days on a distant planet, and you won¡¯t see me again. I won¡¯t hurt anyone again.¡± He hadn¡¯t moved closer at all during their conversation, but now, he started swaying uncomfortably. ¡°Vayra, I am sorry for what I did to you. If it means anything, I have no ill will or personal grudge. It was¡­just business.¡± She snorted, then dropped her head. ¡°Then, for what it¡¯s worth back at you, I accept your apology for now. If¡­you want to come here to plan, I would not be opposed to it, or be part of our discussions, I would not be opposed to it.¡± Chapter 44: Adjoining [Volume 4] ¡°Fire,¡± Karmion demanded, holding out a black crescent toward his prisoner. In the darkness of the Cardinal Arrant¡¯s great cabin, Nathariel was just a shadow hanging like shrivelled fruit in the branches of the artificial Namola tree. The branches twisted and stretched, holding Nathariel away and hoisting him up in the air. The true notch in the trunk, the intended slot for a prisoner, was still open. If possible, he¡¯d trap the Mediator there, but if not¡­killing her would be a suitable alternative. A pale blue glow emerged behind Nathariel. A bluecoat hoisted up a pail of Stream water and poured a single drop on Nathariel¡¯s back. Even if he wanted to break out, he wouldn¡¯t have enough mana for anything but a single burst of flame. His single real eye glowed orange, then a burst of flame roared out his mouth, orange with a pure white core, and blazing hot. It seared across the black crescent, illuminating the writhing fibres. They were shadowthorn extract, the substance of void, woven together into a gnarled handle. At first, they seemed almost formless, like Moulded Arcara¡ªwhich Karmion had used to hold the strands together at first, but they¡¯d long since burnt off, leaving only darkness behind. Over the weeks, he had stretched it and elongated it, first into the handle of a blacksmith¡¯s hammer, then the length of a sword¡¯s blade, then the length of a spear¡¯s haft. Initially, he had planned to make a spear. Though he preferred to fight with his bare hands, a spear seemed perfectly suited for impaling with, severing the soul and spirit and locking the Mediator away from Phason¨¦. But the forging process formed a twisted, angled mess of a haft. He¡¯d changed plans, and it worked wonderfully with Kalawen¡¯s plans. She¡¯d forged her shadowthorn, the most powerful of them all, into an enormous sickle shape. Now, tonight, it was time to attach them. Kalawen stood at the opposite end of the hall, holding out her end of the sickle, as if Karmion was going to attach the soul-severing head to the haft in the form of a glaive. He instead stepped around to her side and rammed the haft onto the side of the sickle blade. He could firm up the connection later, but for now, he allowed Nathariel¡¯s fire to melt the two halves together, liquifying the Arcara itself. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Kalawen whispered. ¡°What better weapon for cutting down a Mediator than¡­a scythe?¡± Karmion pulled the combined components out of her hands and lugged them back to Nathariel. ¡°More fire. Don¡¯t need this falling apart when we use it, now, do we?¡± Nathariel scowled. The bluecoat poured another dribble of water onto his back, and he breathed another bout of fire. Jerking the half-forged scythe up, Karmion caught the fire, then set it down on a makeshift anvil at the center of the great cabin. ¡°That¡¯s a good dragon,¡± Karmion sneered, then picked up a hammer. He was no master smith, not by any stretch, but he could put together a void-scythe from the best ingredients available to him. ¡°How does it feel to build the instrument of your disciples¡¯ destruction, hm?¡± Nathariel said nothing. ¡°Ah, well. It was worth a shot. Kalawen, you are dismissed.¡± She dipped her head, then backed away to the doors of the great cabin and pushed them open, then stepped outside. ¡°When this is all done, I will share in the glory, yes? Word will spread of how I helped bring down the Mediator?¡± ¡°Of course. I wouldn¡¯t deny a fellow god¡¯s ambitions, now, would I?¡± As soon as Glade¡¯s fight finished¡ªwith him reigning victorious after only the second round¡ªhe and Vayra returned to their apartment in the contestants¡¯ quarters. Myrrir, having remained in the Velaydian viewing tower, retreated to his own room for the evening after shortly acknowledging Glade and delivering a clipped apology. The moment the door fell shut, Vayra summoned Adair from her corespace and shared what Phason¨¦ had explained to her about the advancement to Grand Admiral, and in turn, Glade shared what Kalawen had told him. A moment later, Phason¨¦ appeared in her physical form, then said, ¡°What falsehoods. By the Stream, I never liked Kalawen. But now I know she¡¯s not just an arrogant bully, she''s an outright fool as well. For both of you, your spirit beasts are¡­sapient. Trying to dominate them with your will will inevitably fail. When you establish an Arcara loop with them, you¡¯ll probe their will, yes, but you need to work with each other. Since you¡¯ve been feeding them, and sharing your adventures with them, hopefully your wills are mostly aligned, though it¡¯s hard to say for sure.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°But establishing the connection, creating a loop¡ªand essentially using a Reach technique without manipulating a substance¡ªwill require some form of strength and willpower. To gain access to their Arcara systems, we will need to be strong.¡± ¡°But not dominating,¡± Vayra said. ¡°They aren¡¯t intelligent enough to know how they might harm you,¡± said Phason¨¦. ¡°If you aren¡¯t strong-willed, they¡¯ll accidentally overwhelm you. But if you try to dominate them, you¡¯ll destroy them, and either fail the advancement or turn them into a weak spirit, like my own advancement.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just attempt the cycling loop for now,¡± Vayra said. She shut her eyes, and tried to manipulate her Arcara in a stable loop reminiscent of the one she used for the Starlight Palm. After all, a Reach technique guided the Arcara out of her body as its core function. But the Starlight Palm was one of her first techniques, and as a Reach went, it was barely a part of the category. She switched to the pattern for guiding starlight through her pistol in a direct beam. Wisps of invisible energy leaked out her hand and swirled into the air, which she tracked with her spiritual sight¡ªand it was no longer invisible. It didn¡¯t accumulate any starlight; she kept it far away from her scarf and the apartment¡¯s window. She tried to guide it toward Adair. He was still present in her normal sight. But it was like trying to push two of the same poles of a magnet together. Her Arcara just bent away. She pulled her Arcara back before it broke off and dispersed¡ªno sense in wasting it¡ªand fell back to a kneeling position on the floor. Patiently, she waited for Glade to try. The swordwyrm chittered, and she tracked his Arcara with her spiritual sight, but he had the exact same problem. The swordwyrm didn¡¯t even seem to register that something had come near it; it just swirled around the hilt of the giant sword and snapped up flakes of metal from the floor (which Glade had thrown down for it). ¡°Any¡­suggestions?¡± Vayra asked Phason¨¦. ¡°This is likely where Kalawen would have told us to push harder,¡± said Glade. ¡°But we established that we are only taking her advice at the surface level.¡± ¡°Adair and the swordwyrm should be projecting a spiritual presence now,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It¡¯s weak, yes, but you¡¯ll need to lock onto it. Remember Adair¡¯s hairs? The filaments along his back? Try to direct the Arcara straight into those. The swordwyrm likely has its own point of¡­opening, you could say.¡± Vayra turned away from Glade so she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about his Arcara messing with her spiritual sight, then tried again. Adair pounced up onto the couch, only a few feet away from her now. She analyzed him with her spiritual senses until the Arcara-conducting filaments lit up along his back. ¡°Think of them like your own fingers,¡± Phason¨¦ said. ¡°It''s easiest to conduct Arcara out the tips of your channels. When you fill a rune or a starsteel object, that is where you push the Arcara out. When you use a Reach technique, that is where it originates.¡± Vayra angled her Arcara upward, imagining thin lines tracing from her fingers and out, then pushed it down in an arc. It reached straight for the filaments along Adair¡¯s back. And then Vayra asked. She couldn¡¯t just force her way in. Sure, Adair had chosen to come along¡ªsomewhat. She had given him chances to leave, and he hadn¡¯t. But he wasn¡¯t a sapient being yet, and there was no way he knew what he was getting into. This would protect him, yes. It would also bind them together forever. So if Adair willingly pushed her away, she wouldn¡¯t keep forcing it. For a few seconds, her Arcara hesitated, as if pushing against a sticky door, then flooded in through the filaments and tendrils along his back. It traced his channel system and circled around his core, then, given a slight bit of propulsion by his miniscule will, it circled around and flooded back to her, leaking across the distance between them and pushing back into her fingers. Adair was pushing it back, and now she had to let him in. She opened the door, and the loop was complete. Now, to make it constant. The next day, she and Glade stood at the edge of the viewing platform in King Tallerion¡¯s tower, looking down over the arena. Varion, one of Karmion¡¯s children, faced a young woman in flowing, silky robes. She manipulated the fabric with strands of Arcara, turning the sleeves of her robe into whips and forgings its tails into whirling blades. The battle had already begun, and from the start, Vayra knew who the victor would be. Varion hacked through the fabric with heavy swipes of his axe, channeling ice and Arcara along the rune of its head. The blade glowed, and ice shards erupted from the impact point, shredding his opponent¡¯s weapons. ¡°She is hardening her fabric with Wards, too,¡± Glade said. ¡°He is still smashing through.¡± ¡°Is he¡­that much more powerful?¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°They are both Admirals, and both freshly advanced. Like us.¡± ¡°Then it''s his weapon,¡± Vayra said. ¡°How strong is it?¡± ¡®Rated to Grand-Admiral or above.¡¯ ¡°If he hits my sword with his axe, he will destroy the blade, no matter how high-quality the sword is,¡± Glade said sullenly. ¡°His ice will seep into the faintest crack in the steel and shatter it.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s clearly the best contender. You¡¯ll face him at some point. Can you win?¡± ¡°I¡­do not know,¡± said Glade. ¡°He has likely centuries of training, and if not that, then his spirit is not damaged like mine. Innately, he is stronger. Whether I could get lucky or not would be the deciding factor.¡± Vayra dropped her head. ¡°How do we know how good he is?¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± said King Tallerion¡¯s aide, ¡°if I may interject, the suffix -ion to a name is an indicator of Nobility. Karmion, or whoever named this Varion, did it precisely on purpose, because they knew how strong they were going to make him, how they were going to drive his ambition. It would be a grave mistake to underestimate him.¡± ¡°Then we have to even the field,¡± Vayra said. ¡°They¡¯ll try to pit him against me first, I guarantee it. I don¡¯t have to win¡ªI just have to destroy his axe.¡± Chapter 45: Disruption [Volume 4] Vayra¡¯s next fight was not against Varion, as she expected. When the doors opened, depositing her and her opponent in the arena, she was facing Larra. A soft, ¡°Oh,¡± was all she could muster. But she¡¯d prepared for this. She¡¯d trained, and she¡¯d practiced her internal Ward. Her disruption runestone clung to the top of her mechanical hand, and her core was full of mana. And she wasn¡¯t Myrrir. Vayra marched across the arena to the center, drawing as close as she could. Larra still wore her coat. Overtop, the artifact, the tooth of her wolf, hung. It¡¯d still function to raise the grade of her Arcara, but Gnasher was gone. Only now did Vayra understand that she hadn¡¯t just killed Larra¡¯s pet, she¡¯d also killed the woman¡¯s companion beast for her advancement to Grand Admiral. Larra would have to settle for a water plume, just like the rest of her brethren. When Vayra reached the center of the arena, she stood only a few paces away from Larra. There was nothing else she could do except offer a small wave and say, ¡°Hi. Long time no see.¡± Larra pulled her three-part staff off her shoulder and whipped it into place, filling the gaps between the three sections with water. ¡°You killed my dog.¡± ¡°You were trying to capture me and subject me to a lifetime of torment.¡± ¡°I was only doing as I was told. But now, it¡¯s personal.¡± ¡°Apologies, then,¡± Vayra said. ¡°But your wolf was also trying to kill me.¡± ¡°No more talking. We fight now.¡± Vayra winced. ¡°I¡¯m waiting for the trumpet to go.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Before Larra could let off another threat, the trumpet did sound. The God-heir charged immediately, without speaking another word. Vayra ducked to the side and Moulded her scythe, then intercepted the next strike. Larra gripped her tooth pendant with one hand and activated it, and her spirit flared to the strength of a Grand Admiral¡ªmaybe something a little higher. But, without the help of a spirit beast, she wasn¡¯t a true Grand Admiral. Vayra used the Mediator form to match her, raising the strength of her own Arcara, but blazing quickly. She and Phason¨¦ shared wills, but now that their strength was closer, now that she was an Admiral, she picked out her own will much easier. The Goddess was present, but she wanted to win just as much as Vayra did. She wanted to crush Larra. There was no dissonance, nothing. But Vayra would burn out her mana sooner than Larra would, unless Larra herself used a mana-intensive technique. But even then, almost everything Vayra had was perfect for a burst of offense, not a drawn out fight. But it didn¡¯t look like Larra was in the mood for a drawn-out fight. The woman charged, spinning her staff in one hand and holding out the other. The tips of her fingers glowed bright blue with the concentration of mana and Arcara flowing through them, and Vayra¡¯s blood swirled, then slowed, then tried to rebel. It tried to burst out of her vessels and veins, to turn to spears and rip her apart from the inside. Nothing about it was elegant; it was a hammer for smashing an opponent with. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you live past the first round,¡± Larra sneered, ¡°or if it dishonours me. I am the executor of Karmion¡¯s will, the doer of his dirty work. But moreover, I will just enjoy watching you burst into a cloud of blood.¡± A spear of clear liquid shot out from Vayra¡¯s flesh-and-blood bicep and harpooned through her skin before she wrenched her Arcara under control and activated her internal Warding. Instead of resisting the blood magic and hardening herself against it, she phased right through it, unperturbed by its pull. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Larra¡¯s eyes widened, but she gripped her staff with both hands and blocked Vayra¡¯s next blow. Water whirled around the outer layer of her staff, pushing back against the blade of Vayra¡¯s scythe¡ªuntil Vayra activated her runestone, directing out a pulse of disruption in Larra¡¯s direction and dispersing the Ward. Her scythe bashed against the staff, leaving a molten gash across the metal and sending Larra spinning to the ground. The back of Larra¡¯s staff whirled up and caught Vayra on the back of the head. Vayra Warded her hair with a regular shield, preventing damage, but the impact still flung her across the arena and sent her sprawling across the sand. She directed her Arcara to her wounded arm. There was no better time to test out the healing capabilities of her Admiral body. With the help of the Mediator Form, her skin visibly knitted itself together, far faster than normal. But Larra was already charging. She used a full-body Bracing technique, too, and a plume of water and sandy dust rose behind her. Vayra jumped back to her feet and activated the Astral Shroud, then ducked under a staff swipe. She punched the flailing, loose end of the three-part staff with her mechanical hand and activated the runestone. So close to the staff, it severed the watery connection entirely and sent the section of the staff tumbling across the dirt. Again, Vayra¡¯s blood swirled, and Larra tried to manipulate her blood, but with her Wards already active, Vayra sailed right through it, unperturbed. She and Larra traded blows. From a distance, it probably looked like a simple flash, taking place over only a few seconds, but tens of punches flew. Starlight Palms cracked out into the open air and whips of water splashed against the sand. Scythe grated against staff, and a cloud of mist arose around them. With her speed, Vayra evaded most of Larra¡¯s strikes, and even landed a few of her own, though they did very little damage. When she pulled out her pistol alongside her scythe to funnel energy through it, Larra targeted it, noting it as a stronger threat. She pushed through a barrage of scythe slashes and snatched up the pistol, then threw it across the arena¡ªout of Vayra¡¯s grasp. With a kick, she flung Vayra across the arena in the opposite direction, then hoisted the fallen half of her staff and reattached it. But Vayra still had the scythe to do damage. She¡¯d need perfectly placed blows and an opening. Phason¨¦ subconsciously delivered a warning, and Vayra barely registered receiving it in the Mediator Form. But she recognized the content: she¡¯d burned halfway through her mana, and she was nowhere close to winning. Larra jumped across the arena and slammed her staff down on Vayra¡¯s flesh arm. Muscle split and bone fractured, and Vayra grit her teeth. But the arm was still attached. The directed energy right into the bone¡ªenough to heal it and hold herself together. She drew on Adair out of the corespace, then formed a stable cycling loop within him, drawing on his reflexes twice as efficiently as before. Where before, it felt like she was only improving her reflexes and dexterity, now it felt like she was borrowing them entirely from a cat. As soon as Larra¡¯s muscles twitched, Vayra instinctively knew where to bend to dodge the coming blow. Up, down, circle around, whirl the scythe. No matter what, Larra didn¡¯t land a strike, and Vayra slipped in closer. With a spin to build power, she swatted the three-part staff out of Larra¡¯s hands, then brought the scythe blade back in the opposite direction, aiming a blow that¡¯d either force Larra to surrender or kill her. Her arms stalled at their peak, unable to bring the scythe down for a killing blow. Larra held her hands out toward Vayra. Both her palms glowed blue with Arcara, and her fingers burned as bright as a star. She shouted and widened her stance. Vayra activated her spiritual sight. Tendrils of Arcara raced out Larra¡¯s hands and enveloped Vayra, forming a blood-manipulating layer outside Vayra¡¯s skin. It pressed inward, overpowering Vayra¡¯s Wards and catching her blood in a tight grasp. A contest of wills, then. Vayra shut her eyes and concentrated. She didn¡¯t need the Astral Shroud, so instead she turned it toward the Burnished Flame Loop, concentrating and forcing her will to her core, then infusing all her Arcara with it. Larra engaged a similar cycling pattern, one for the purification of mana, though it wasn¡¯t exactly the same. Still, it¡¯d draw on a will just the same, and it helped Larra concentrate hers just the same as Vayra. ¡°You think you can overwhelm me?¡± Larra shouted. ¡°I am a God-heir, a daughter of Karmion! I have spent more time training than you¡¯ve spent breathing! You cannot compare to me¡­you Discarded scum! I want this victory!¡± Vayra shut her eyes. It came down to who wanted the victory more. That was it. She concentrated on her own mind and memories, on her past in Tavelle. Sleeping in the cold gutters, running from Helpers, starving. ¡°You don¡¯t want it more than me,¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°You don¡¯t want it enough. You wouldn¡¯t understand. No one wants it more than me. I need to succeed. Only when you are nothing can you truly understand the need to become more.¡± Her internal Ward broke through, and her arms began to shift, bring the scythe down for a finishing blow, but Larra still resisted. ¡°No!¡± she yelled. ¡°No! I¡ª¡± Vayra¡¯s Ward flared. It wasn¡¯t just strong because it burned witht he power of the stars. She passed through objects because the night sky¡­it wasn¡¯t just about stars. There was a darkness, a void there too. The emptiness of the internal Ward seeped out, infecting Larra¡¯s Arcara and imploding it, drawing it away and making it impossibly empty. The blood manipulation technique shattered, and Vayra¡¯s scythe fell. She stopped a half-inch from Larra¡¯s neck. ¡°Do it!¡± Larra snarled. ¡°End me!¡± ¡°Surrender,¡± Vayra and Phason¨¦ said at the same time, their voices merging and speaking as one. ¡°No.¡± Larra made two fists and conjured a gauntlet of water over each of them. She wouldn¡¯t let it go more than one round. Vayra pulled the scythe in an inch, then dragged the blade across Larra¡¯s throat. The woman collapsed, dead. Chapter 46: The Reward of Kindness [Volume 4] Karmion tssked and shook his head, but anything more from so high up would be too unprofessional. People were watching, and they¡¯d see, even if he was floating high above them on a cloud of mist. That didn¡¯t make it easy to hide his disappointment. Larra had just gone down in a single round, despite all the resources and help he¡¯d given her. It made him look weak, and it made the Mediator look strong. And with the way she turned and walked away, still moving rather awkwardly and not even addressing the crowd, she didn¡¯t even know it. Everyone knew what she was by now, even if they wouldn¡¯t say it aloud. She took three or four steps away from Larra¡¯s corpse, then stopped and turned back. Bending over, she snatched up the tooth pendant. It snapped off its chain with ease, revealing a set of triggering runes on the back. The artifact, at its core, was a specially shaped runestone, perfect for conducting and purifying energy. He shut his eyes. Let her have it. It wasn¡¯t doing Larra any good anymore. Whether it was his family¡¯s property or not didn¡¯t matter. She¡¯d won the fight, and if he descended to stop her, he¡¯d look even worse. From every mortal came a tendril of support, a pillar of belief and worship. They snaked up through the natural energy fields of the planet, the weak spiritual energies that emanated from it (that were nothing compared to the Stream and its mana). From all across the galaxy, people¡¯s belief and prayer and devotion rang out through the fabric of the galaxy. It resonated in his body. It fuelled his spirit, and it lit his soul with empowering fire. He was a symbol of the ocean¡¯s strength. As an Emissary, part of Karmion¡¯s power came from people¡¯s perception of him, from their worship and prayer. It didn¡¯t matter how powerful the person was, so long as they worshiped him. Mortals, God-heirs, it made no difference. The closer the mortals were to him, the better. The more in a tight concentration, this close to him? It was the perfect fuel for his abilities. But even now, the invisible columns building an unshakeable foundation of Emissary spirit-fire, were cracking and wavering. Even if the entire galaxy wasn¡¯t crumbling, the mortals closest to him were losing faith. When he destroyed the Mediator, they¡¯d understand. They¡¯d return to worship him, and his power would swell once more. He just had to hope the Mediator never learned to draw on the support of mortals and their perceptions, either. Glade¡¯s next fight took place at noon. He had checked the tournament progress bulletins a few times, and when the arena staff had finally updated them, he took note of his new opponent. Ameena. He didn¡¯t know enough about her to be concerned, and that was the worst part. But she¡¯d made it this far in the tournament, so she had to be stronger than he thought. With an empty swallow, he realized she probably thought the exact same thing about him. He stepped out the waiting room¡¯s door and out into the center of the arena. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen, she likes to go fast and be slippery,¡± Vayra said from inside the waiting room. ¡°You¡¯ll do fine! You¡¯ve sparred with me enough!¡± But Vayra also didn¡¯t have an ability to un-heal people. Glade walked to the center of the arena and drew his sword right away, then pulled the swordwyrm from his corespace. He¡¯d made progress on his bond with it, but he wasn¡¯t a Grand Admiral yet. But he hadn¡¯t gotten a chance to practice truly taking on its attributes yet. At least, not up until now. Ameena walked up in the opposite direction, then wedged her staff upright in the sand and leaned on it. ¡°Fancy seeing you here. Kinda thought you¡¯d get eliminated a lot sooner than I would.¡± ¡°Funny.¡± Glade chuckled. ¡°I thought the same thing about you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not very nice.¡± She crossed her arms across her stomach and gave an exaggerated pout. ¡°You started it.¡± Glade spun his sword around, then pointed it at her. The swordwyrm chittered. ¡°I must advance to the next round, and you will not stand in my way.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I was kinda hoping for the same thing. I wanted that godhood too.¡± Glade narrowed his eyes. This was about more than just attaining godhood. ¡°I am certain you will still receive plenty of treasures if you get eliminated now.¡± ¡°Aye, indeed, but¡­¡± She glanced up at Karmion¡¯s tower, then tapped her fingers on her bicep. ¡°Say, you lose, I take you to go get drinks. I lose, you take me to get drinks.¡± Glade rolled his eyes. ¡°If it makes you happy.¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t hate you, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± The trumpet sounded, echoing across the arena and signalling the start of her fight. Ameena ripped her staff out of the ground and whirled toward Glade, unleashing a high, sideways swipe. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as an agreement, sir!¡± Glade raised his sword and deflected the swipe over his head. Normally, he wouldn¡¯t have tried to touch a heavy staff strike like that, but with his reforged body, he could deflect it. But she was still strong. She was an Admiral, and she had a regular reforged body¡ªas best he could tell. Nothing seemed special about her accumulated power, except for her healing and unhealing abilities. He couldn¡¯t let her touch him. ¡°I do not hate you either,¡± Glade said, backing away with his sword raised. ¡°But I need to win.¡± ¡°I want to win,¡± Ameena countered. She jabbed a few times with the tip of her staff, and Glade leaned away from each. As she deflected a swipe from the swordwyrm, she asked, ¡°What about you? Is it just duty for you?¡± Glade whirled his sword, spinning it behind his back to build speed, then striked. She blocked it with the center of her staff. Glade had almost expected to cut through. He concentrated a line of Arcara down the blade, forming a perfect wedge at its cutting edge. Not to mention the innate speed he swung with. But it wasn¡¯t enough. A pulse of vibrant green Arcara pressed against his sword at the impact point, holding it back. He slid to the side, pulling free and giving his swordwyrm an opening. ¡°If I do not win, we will lose a valuable tool to fight the Gods with.¡± ¡°And? Do you want to be a tool?¡± Glade rolled his eyes. ¡°You knew what I meant.¡± ¡°And you knew what I meant, gutter-brain.¡± She rammed her staff into the ground like she was a pole-vaulter, then unleashed a set of airborne kicks with Braced legs. Glade blocked each of them with the flat of his sword. ¡°You won¡¯t cut through my Brace so easily. Don¡¯t worry about hurting me!¡± Glade ducked under her last kick and rammed her in the gut with his elbow, sending her tumbling back across the arena. She kept her grip on her staff, and it flew back with her. As she skidded and bounced across the sand, she flicked her arm out at him, launching orange leaves off her wrist. They ripped free from the vines, and, imbued with her Arcara, turned into daggers. He swatted them out of the air. ¡°All I have ever done is serve.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sounding more and more like Varion every day,¡± Ameena said, rolling back to her feet and whirling her staff around into a fighting position. ¡°But you¡¯re self aware about it. I don¡¯t think you truly believe that anymore.¡± ¡°You know Varion?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re concerned about?¡± Glade crossed the distance between them with a few leaps, then delivered two sword swipes. She blocked them both. ¡°If you know something, it¡¯d be helpful!¡± ¡°Fine, I met him at the Continental Inn, when I was just flitting around, looking for you guys,¡± Ameena said. ¡°He was all like ¡®oh, serve the family, must be strong for the family, must protect the family, must win for the family.¡¯ No individuality, just service.¡± Glade scowled as he ducked under a staff swipe, then used a Reach technique to slash at her legs, manipulating his chain of metal filings and razorblades. The swordwyrm attacked from behind, driving her toward him, and though she spun her staff quickly, blocking and kicking and jabbing, she couldn¡¯t hold them off forever. When Glade found his moment, he took it, slipping between her guard and pressing his sword up against her throat. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m taking this round.¡± ¡°Indeed you are,¡± she raised her hands and held her staff out to the side. ¡°See you in the next one.¡± Glade walked back to the edge of the arena, to the walkway over the moat where Vayra and King Tallerion¡¯s aide stood. ¡°What was that about?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°You were supposed to practice your bond with the swordwyrm, like we talked about.¡± ¡°I got¡­distracted.¡± Vayra smirked. ¡°Yeah, Ameena is kinda pretty. Don¡¯t let that be the reason she ends up in the final rounds instead of you.¡± ¡°It is not that.¡± He dipped his hands in the pail of Stream water, refilling his mana. He hadn¡¯t used much, but his weak spirit with its innate disadvantages made his storage less than most people¡ªeven Vayra. Not to mention, with the speed they¡¯d advanced? They¡¯d not had a chance to expand their mana wells enough. He¡¯d probably used about half his overall mana storage. ¡°Vayra,¡± Glade said. ¡°God-heirs¡¯ advancement is not always limited by the resources they have available to them. It was said many times in the Order of Balance Temple that someone¡¯s advancement was determined by their sheer, raw ambition. Those who reached the highest ranks, the Admirals and Grand Admirals, and the Gods, they had to want it the most. I know you fit the bill, but I do not know if I do.¡± ¡°Glade.¡± Vayra scrunched up her eyebrows and leaned closer. ¡°You know more than I do, but¡­I¡¯m pretty sure you have that.¡± She flicked his strand of coloured hair. ¡°You have more individuality than anyone else I¡¯ve met in the Order, and you seem more willing to go the lengths that they couldn¡¯t. You¡¯re the only Admiral the Order has produced.¡± ¡°And I crippled my spirit to do it. I fear if I stop moving, my channels will crumble and collapse.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll make it to the Emissary Realm, and that won¡¯t matter,¡± she said. ¡°Get back out there. You can do it. Don¡¯t think about Ameena or what you can and cannot do. Just think about using the swordwyrm¡¯s abilities. I know you want it. You had just as rough of an upbringing as some of the gods, if not more. I know you have that¡­anger at the universe, that striving push.¡± He dipped his head. ¡°Thank you.¡± Chapter 47: A Crafting Grocery List [Volume 4] ¡°Ready for round two, Mr. Glade?¡± Ameena pestered, standing across the center of the arena from him. Glade shut his eyes and declined to respond. Vayra was almost right, but¡­he needed to do both. He needed to want it, and he wanted to know that he wanted this. He if he let Ameena nag him too far¡ªwhether well intentioned or not¡ªshe¡¯d throw him off his game, and he might lose this fight. And what then? Without the goal of godhood to keep pushing for, he would fall apart. ¡°Alright, buddy,¡± he whispered to the swordwyrm. ¡°We¡¯re making a loop this time. Ready to accept?¡± ¡°Food from sword-friend!¡± the living blade chittered. Glade held out his hand and used his Reach technique, feeding metal filings and shards across to the swordwyrm¡ªand mana and Arcara too. The swordwyrm readily let it in through its hilt, and the mana and Arcara swirled through its channels before returning to Glade¡ªwithout the filings. All the sharp metal objects in Glade¡¯s vicinity seemed a little sharper, a little clearer in his perception, but that wasn¡¯t the main draw of the wyrm. A weightlessness formed under his arms and around his hips, buoying him up. The swordwyrm flew by manipulating the wind currents, and Glade, drawing on its abilities, could do the same. By the time the trumpet sounded, he was hovering an inch off the ground. He pushed off to the side, gliding over the sand and creating a plume of dust behind himself. Slashing knife-leaves out of the air, he circled around Ameena, while the swordwyrm dove closer to her, bolstered by Glade¡¯s Arcara. With each circle, Glade drew closer to her. She flung leaves faster, but with each attack, the vines winding around her limbs grew more and more barren. When she flung her last leaf, Glade converged. By his estimates, he had a quarter of his mana left, and his mouth was getting parched, but he kept pushing. Just a little closer¡­ Ameena swept her staff outward, aiming for his forehead. If it collided, she¡¯d direct her techniques into it, doubling his bruises and unhealing him. He wasn¡¯t fast enough to dodge it, and she¡¯d built up power¡ªhe couldn¡¯t directly dodge it. Not unless he focussed his sword technique. He raised his blade and firmed his muscles. The Arcara responded, flowing up along the cutting edge. But it was just a base technique. Not strong enough to cut her staff. It didn¡¯t matter. He had to. He knew exactly why he was here, why he¡¯d made it this far¡ªbecause, no matter what he said, no matter what the Order taught him, he did hunger. He needed something more than the life of an average Order Apprentice. Elder Eman-Fa would be so proud. The technique activated with resolve and determination, and a firm shhhing ran up the blade. He slashed right through her staff, negating her strike. His sword aimed right for her neck. Only inches before a collision, he stopped, holding it beside her skin. ¡°I am sorry about the staff, but¡­I will help you get a new one.¡± ¡°No need,¡± Ameena said. ¡°I can fix it. Maybe you¡¯d be willing to help, though?¡± ¡°Me?¡± he whispered. ¡°We can talk about this later. Just yield. I do not want to cut your head off.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± She raised her hands and cut off all her techniques. ¡°When we go get drinks, then?¡± Glade sighed. ¡°Alright. You¡­are not upset?¡± ¡°You were hungrier than I was.¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Vayra cheered from the viewing platform of King Tallerion¡¯s tower, and the rest of the audience let out a soft cheer and applause along with her. ¡®More like completely drowning you out,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡°Eh, I¡¯ll take it,¡± Vayra replied. ¡°They¡¯re happy for him, and they feel like they can cheer? What does that say about our cause and Karmion¡¯s support?¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®It says wonderful things,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®But now¡¯s¡ª¡¯ Before the Goddess could finish, King Tallerion¡¯s aide approached from behind and said, ¡°Miss, Myrrir is requesting entrance, again.¡± ¡°You can let him in,¡± Vayra replied. ¡°From now on, you can let him in without asking me first, please.¡± A few moments later, the aide returned with Myrrir in tow. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Sorry, came out a little snippier than I thought it would, though¡­I guess you were probably expecting that.¡± Judging by Myrrir¡¯s face and his braced response. Myrrir winced. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to spook you, truly.¡± ¡°Your presence kinda does that, but please continue.¡± ¡°We have a problem,¡± Myrrir whispered. ¡°Karmion appears to have finished his weapon, or¡­at least, has it mostly finished.¡± ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°I was keeping tabs, doing reconnaissance around his ship,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°I snuck aboard.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± Vayra asked, matching his low tone. ¡°Kar¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t use his name,¡± Myrrir whispered. ¡°Gods have impressive hearing, especially when they¡¯re as old as he is. Saying their name draws attention.¡± ¡°Alright, I won¡¯t¡­¡± Vayra bit her lip. Phas, why didn¡¯t you tell me this? ¡®I didn¡¯t figure it was pertinent, given how many people must be speaking Karmion¡¯s name around here.¡¯ Vayra shook her head. ¡°We can¡¯t take any risks.¡± ¡°The problem, aside from the fact that he finished it and could use it any time,¡± Myrrir continued, ¡°is that he made it poorly. It¡¯s only¡­around Grand Admiral grade, and even if he pours more of Nathariel¡¯s fire into it, he¡¯ll only buff out a few imperfections.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like a problem,¡± Vayra said. ¡°It is if you want to use it for yourself.¡± She breathed a long sigh. ¡°When Glade gets back, we need to speak to Farrir, and you need to tell him what you saw.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll describe everything in as best of detail as I can,¡± said Myrrir. While they waited for Glade to return, Vayra concentrated on cycling with Adair. Still, the cat had shown no signs of rejecting her, and he continued to accept the Arcara infusions with glee. His thoughts were becoming more coherent, and the power he passed over to her more useful. Myrrir withdrew his own spirit, a little whirlwind of green dust¡ªthe exact same shade as his jade sword. But it was a weak spirit, and he¡¯d end up with a similar bond as Phason¨¦ displayed¡ªat least, that was what Vayra understood of the situation. Still, it was better than nothing, and Myrrir fed it with ease. At first, she wanted to ask him how he knew what to do, but she stopped herself. He had been a prince, effectively, the chosen heir of Karmion and the potential inheritor of Nilsenir¡¯s Godhood. Of course he would know exactly how to bond the spirit properly. It¡¯d have been ingrained in his teachings from a young age. When Glade arrived at the tower, covered in sweat and caked with sand, she said, ¡°Sorry, I know you want to sit, but we need to pay Farrir an emergency visit.¡± A quick scan of his spirit revealed that he only had an eighth of his mana left. Glade nodded. ¡°Understood. I will grab a cup of Stream water and catch up. As long as you two do not run too fast.¡± ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± said Myrrir. They descended Tallerion¡¯s tower from the viewing platform, then set off along the upper ridge of the arena. Glade caught up to them halfway around, holding his hand in a mug of Stream water. When they arrived at Farrir¡¯s tower, the two guards at the entrance recognized her and allowed her in, and she insisted that they let her friends¡ªfriend and companion of unspecified allegiance¡ªin. They ascended up to the top of the tower, and, without waiting for admittance, ran into Farrir¡¯s chamber. He¡¯d have sensed them coming, and if what Myrrir said indicated enough of a problem, they needed to alert Farrir as soon as possible. Farrir dismissed a few of his Captain-stage God-heirs, then walked across the hall to face them. He didn¡¯t wear a coat or shirt today, and he still carried a forging hammer. Sweat and grime coated his body. As soon as the guards and God-heirs were out of earshot, he asked, ¡°What is it? Realized my son made it to the top four with you, and came to beg him to surrender? You know that¡¯s not how it works.¡± ¡°Not that,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Myrrir.¡± ¡°Karmion¡¯s weapon, a scythe fashioned from shadowthorns and Arcara, isn¡¯t forged very well.¡± ¡°Well, boy, that is not news.¡± Farrir shook his head. ¡°Wait, why is Myrrir with you?¡± ¡°Just listen to him,¡± Vayra whispered. Farrir blew out a puff of air. ¡°Respect, Mediator; you¡¯re not a Grand Admiral yet. What is the problem?¡± ¡°The haft is already cracking,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°And the entire weapon isn¡¯t conducting Arcara properly. He¡¯s had to cut a hole in the blade to stop it from rotting, but the entire thing isn¡¯t as dark as it should be.¡± Farrir stroked his chin. ¡°That is worse than I was expecting. However, not unmanageable. I will need a Vale Heart, though, if I am to stabilize the weapon. And I¡¯ll need to use it sooner than later.¡± ¡°A Vale Heart?¡± Glade asked. ¡°You¡¯ll find them deep in the Night Vale Chambers, on any planet you visit. They form in areas high in shadow concentration, with high shadow aspects. They aren¡¯t easy to find, but that¡¯s why I suspect there¡¯ll still be a few on Barra Secundus¡ªthe nearby Chambers. Not to mention some more runestones.¡± He motioned toward her mechanical hand. ¡°Then we¡¯ll get it for you,¡± Vayra said. ¡°One last thing, while I have you. How do I destroy Varion¡¯s axe?¡± Farrir snorted. ¡°I made that axe, girl. I made it specifically so it couldn¡¯t be broken¡­easily.¡± ¡°Then there has to be a way.¡± ¡°Indeed. The handle and head are weak at their joint. A disruption pulse to stop the flow, then a couple heavy slashes? You¡¯ll shatter the axehead and sever it from the haft.¡± ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± ¡°Get me a Vale Core, or don¡¯t bother bringing me that weapon. Got it?¡± In unison, Vayra, Glade, and Myrrir said, ¡°Got it.¡± Chapter 48: Calculated King Tallerion¡¯s aide darted around Vayra and Glade, brushing off their clothes and fixing sashes, cumberbunds, and cravats. ¡°You must look in top condition when Karmion presents the top four contestants. No exceptions.¡± He¡¯d unveiled a second set of clothing for each of them, prepared for expressly this purpose. Their old clothes from the earlier fights would be too tattered and damaged, now, and this was their chance to continue projecting the Velaydian Kingdom¡¯s strength¡ªwhile keeping with their previous styles. She never knew so much thought had been put into it, but again, the aide had explained that they still needed to be recognizable to the audience. As long as Vayra could still fight effectively, she went along with the change. Now, she wore a dark red sleeveless turtleneck made of overlapping layers of fabric. Her old corset had been too damaged to keep using, so instead, she used a couple belts to keep the robe tight and out of her way (no sense in accidentally cutting it off while fighting, and she wasn¡¯t Glade, who had trained his entire life in impractical coats that swirled behind him, making every movement seem more impressive while obscuring his actual strike). A black glove hugged her flesh-and-blood hand all the way up to her elbow, and she tucked her one starsteel bracer atop it. The boost it gave her Arcara was negligible, now, and it was mainly for show. Lastly, she¡¯d donned brown trousers and a set of wooden greaves that matched the shade of her mechanical limbs. As the waiting room¡¯s doors groaned open, she wrapped her scarf around her neck, then marched out into the open of the arena. For now, it was just a presentation¡ªnot a fight. A brass choir played a fanfare, and the arena¡¯s crowd rang out with cheers. She and Glade walked out side-by-side. He¡¯d replaced his old tunic with a pristine, silky navy-style dress shirt, and as usual, he wore a neat cravat¡ªthough it was pinned down to keep it from flapping. His cumberbund was now a shade of rusty yellow, like the sunset sky, and his black coat had vibrant yellow-gold rings on its cuffs and lapels. The swordwyrm clung to his back in a ceremonial shoulder sheath, and his regular sword hung from his hip. She and Glade met another two contestants in the center of the arena. They were both young men, appearing around her age (though they could¡¯ve been anywhere from one year to a couple hundred older). She recognized Varion instantly. He had natural red hair and wore a fur cloak instead of Karmion¡¯s God-heirs¡¯ regular clothes. Beneath, he shouldered a tight-fitting blue tunic with faux-runic script around its neck and cuffs. He set his axe down and pressed both hands atop its head, leaning on it. As Vayra watched, the frost clinging to the edge of his fur cloak shook and shuddered, like it was alive. Even in the direct sunlight, it didn¡¯t get misty or melt. It was probably the spirit he was nurturing for his Grand Admiral advancement. She couldn¡¯t tell exactly how close he was, though when she scanned his spirit, it felt about the same weight as Glade and hers. Lastly was a tall man in a sleeveless tunic. He¡¯d taken no care to maintain his appearance, and his long brown hair hung in front of his face in messy locks. Grease and ash smeared his entire body, like he¡¯d just stepped out of a forge¡ªwhich was fitting for the hammer on his back. He was Farrir¡¯s son. ¡®His name is Drandall,¡¯ Phason¨¦ commented. ¡®Just for your reference.¡¯ ¡°Thanks,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡°Didn¡¯t forget.¡± ¡®Yes you did.¡¯ ¡°There¡¯s a difference between forgetting and not knowing in the first place.¡± ¡®You did know, when you perused the fight schedule. You stared at it a couple times.¡¯ ¡°If it¡¯d been a more common name, I¡¯d have remembered.¡± ¡®Yeah, sure.¡¯ ¡°Vayra,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°Eyes are on us.¡± ¡°Right.¡± She cleared her throat and straightened up, then glanced at King Tallerion¡¯s viewing tower. Though the king wasn¡¯t here, Myrrir was still watching her, and now, Ameena stood up in the tower with him, watching over the contestants. But more than them, almost half the eyes in the audience were staring at her, from all around the arena. Karmion hovered high above the arena, his arms wide. A much larger projection of him shone below, made up solely from sunlight. It hovered between the projections of the final four contestants. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I present the final four candidates: Varion, Drandall, Glade, and Vayra. The eighth round of this tournament will begin at noon today, and the final round will proceed three days afterward. I wish good luck to all the candidates involved.¡± At that, the crowd was silent. ¡°Please allow the final four a few hours to make their preparations, and then eighth battles will begin! By the end of the day, we will have our final pair!¡± Vayra and Varion stepped out into the arena at noon. ¡®You have the plan down?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®We¡¯re here to break his axe and pave the way for Glade to move forward. We don¡¯t break the axe, we lose. We break the axe, we win. Nothing else matters.¡¯ ¡°Staying alive matters,¡± Vayra said as she walked across the sand floor. She tightened her scarf and adjusted her robe. ¡°Glade can¡¯t win alone, and we still need to destroy Karmion.¡± ¡®That too,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®But we aren¡¯t here to win the tournament fight.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± Vayra said. She met Varion in the center of the arena. He stood a few paces across the center from her, and when he stared at her, a physical chill ran down her spine. The air dropped a few degrees in temperature in an aura around him. Before the fight began, he raised his hand, then mustered an orb of water vapour from the air¡ªhis seer-core. It didn¡¯t condense as quickly as some of Karmion¡¯s other children could manipulate water. ¡®He has other priorities,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®He¡¯s one of the only children of Karmion who expanded his authority to ice.¡¯ Vayra mustered her scythe and held it behind her, then sunk into a low fighting stance. When the trumpet sounded, she barely registered it. She sprang forward, targeting the axehead rather than Varion¡¯s body. He jumped aside, then thrust his arm down. The orb of water splashed into the sand and expanded out in a streak. Varion raised his arm and clenched his fist, and spikes of ice rose up, nearly skewering Vayra through the chin. She slashed through them. A plume of steam rose up, and as soon as they formed, the spikes disappeared, falling back into the sand and snaking away from her. Not good. They were moving to encircle and entrap. Wherever they traveled, a layer of frost formed on the surface of the sand. She activated her Astral Shroud, then sprang away, jumping over lines of frost and snaking around behind Varion. He spun with her and conjured another seer-core¡¯s worth of water, then plunged it into the sand and conjured a wall in front of her. She Warded his insides, then expanded it and passed through the wall without interacting with it at all. Varion snarled. She ignored him and zipped closer in a flash, then slashed at his body, forcing him to defend himself. His axehead ground against her scythe, and its blade heated up, but she couldn¡¯t cut through. ¡®It¡¯s some sort of alloy,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®I can¡¯t confirm what it is, though there are gemstones in there.¡¯ She kept pushing, holding the scythe in place. The axehead turned red-hot, but the metal didn¡¯t yield yet. Varion conjured ice along the axehead. Lines of frost filled the runes, then tried to climb up onto her scythe. They snaked up her scythe¡¯s blade before melting and turning to steam, but there were no cracks to seep into, and there was no real weapon to tear apart. Varion couldn¡¯t force her to back away like he had with his other opponents. She was the perfect choice to destroy the weapon. But Varion was still bigger, bulkier, and stronger. He pushed back with his physical strength, then Braced his arms with ice crystals, then thrust Vayra back and sent her sliding through the sand. ¡°Where¡¯s the strength of the Mediator, hm?¡± he snarled. ¡°Loyalty is the most powerful. Give yourself over to the cause, blindly if you must, and you¡¯ll become stronger than you¡¯ll ever imagine. But you can¡¯t comprehend that, can you? You think your personality makes you a good Mediator?¡± Vayra rolled to the side and pushed up, then jumped back into the fray. She and Varion traded blows for a few more seconds, both of them moving fast enough to blur the sunlight projections above. Varion landed a strike down her side, and another shallow cut across her forehead, aiming where he thought she¡¯d be. With Adair¡¯s help, she navigated around his axehead once. He Warded his neck to protect himself, but she aimed for his axehead. With a single blow to the joint where the head and the haft met, she caused a thin crack to appear in the wood. It¡¯d take more than one hit. Varion raised an inch-think shard of ice through her foot as soon as she planted it, then swung his axe at her neck. Before the blow landed, she deactivated her techniques and surrendered, raising her hands. Varion stopped, then pulled his weapon away. He shook his head and shot her a look of disgust. ¡°Weak.¡± With a wince and gasp, Vayra tugged her foot free from the shard of ice, then walked back to where Glade and the aide waited at the edge of the arena. She tried not to limp, but she couldn¡¯t walk properly, either. With each step, she cycled Arcara back to her foot, feeding her body. Her flesh knitted back together and her bones regrew, but the next round would start before it completely healed. When she reached the bucket of Stream water, she dumped her hands in it once, then activated the Mediator form¡ªif she wanted to heal up in time, she had no other choice. At least Phason¨¦ wanted to repair them, too. They directed mana and Arcara to their foot, willing it to seal up and repair, and her skin fixed itself nearly twice as fast as it had before. While she repaired herself, she glanced at Glade and the aide. ¡°I got in one hit. It won¡¯t be enough. Next round, I¡¯ll need to get more hits.¡± ¡°He still thinks you are trying to win,¡± Glade said. ¡°Use that. He directs his attention to Wards when he thinks you will hit him. Leverage your speed to feign bows, then go for the axe. It is the only way.¡± Chapter 49: An Extra Passenger [Volume 4] Vayra sprinted across the arena, closing the distance between herself and Varion as quickly as she could. In a blink, she covered half the arena and leapt at Varion, aiming for his side, poised to cut him in half. He blocked the swipe with ease, but ever since their bind in the first fight, he had been avoiding prolonged contact of their weapons. But she didn¡¯t need to hit his axe for long¡ªjust a couple hard strikes in the right place. The second round had already taken three or so minutes, and she¡¯d depleted half her mana without landing another direct hit on Varion¡¯s axe. ¡®You need to pick up the pace,¡¯ Phason¨¦ warned. ¡®Use the Mediator Form?¡¯ ¡°Unless we want to run out of mana even quicker, that¡¯s off the table,¡± Vayra hissed, deflecting a counterattack then slipping around to Varion¡¯s other side. He whirled the opposite direction, holding his axe in precisely the right place to catch her across the gut¡ªand the hit would¡¯ve landed had she not Warded her robe. ¡®You need to take a risk if you¡¯re going to do what you need. He¡¯s too fast, strong, and experienced for you to take on any other way.¡¯ Phason¨¦ meant the Mediator Form, but Vayra had other plans. As far as she knew, she didn¡¯t need better techniques. She needed more skill, and the Mediator Form wouldn¡¯t accomplish that. It¡¯d make her Astral Shroud better, sure. It¡¯d make her Wards stronger, but they were already strong enough. No, she needed to take other sorts of risks. Opening herself up, she attacked Varion with a high scythe swipe. If he chose, he could attack her body anywhere, and for the moment, she¡¯d be powerless against it. At least, so he would think. He Warded the air just beside his head, creating a shield of frost to catch her scythe, while aiming an axe swipe right at her chest. She released her mechanical hand from the grip of the scythe, then reached out and punched Varion¡¯s axe down while activating the disruption runestone¡ªand right on top of the joint between the axehead and haft. It didn¡¯t break it, but pulses and vibrations ran through the weapon, temporarily loosening it Moulded Arcara innards and joints. She jumped over the axe and pulled her scythe back, then, with the Astral Shroud still active, delivered three precise blows to the joint between the axehead and the haft with her scythe blade. The first cut an inch deep, the second made the head wobble, and the third cut it free. A burst of force ran through the axe¡¯s haft, splintering the wood and ripping apart the entire haft in an explosion of splinters. The axehead skittered across the sand. Its runes, still fuelled with an Arcara-frost mixture, expanded and quivered. With a cannon-like boom, the axehead blasted apart, spewing out metal shards. One caught her in the shoulder and sent her staggering back. Karmion raised a wall of water to shield the crowd from a cluster, and Varion ducked under the last clump. Then he wheeled around and kicked Vayra in the gut, flinging her back onto the sand. Two shards of ice rose out from the sand on either side of her head, only a fingernail¡¯s width from her temple on both sides. She shut off all her techniques and raised her hands in surrender. The crowd fell silent and stared at her. Varion spat at her feet and turned away, shaking out his hands. ¡°Weak. You are nothing, and now the galaxy will be ours.¡± Vayra only smirked, then stood up, brushed herself off, and marched back toward her waiting room. Everything had gone to plan. At first, Karmion had been elated at the victory. Until he remembered the very first swipe that Vayra had made. She had aimed for the axe. Now the axe was gone. For the first time in centuries, a pit formed in Karmion¡¯s stomach. She¡¯d gotten exactly what she wanted, and anyone in the crowd with half a brain would¡¯ve seen it as well. She was paving the way for the Order disciple. That final smirk of hers had been broadcasted to the entire arena through the sunlight projection. He clenched his fists and flew down to his viewing tower, then marched across the room to the central table. Grabbing hold of the nearest Admiral he could find, he said, ¡°Send word to Summerfall. Activate the Ko-Ganall immediately. They will arrive here in three days, given no interruptions, and I need them as soon as possible. I hereby consign the entire sector to destruction.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The Admiral¡¯s eyes widened, but she gave a dutiful nod and swallowed. ¡°Yes, grandfather. It will be done.¡± Vayra ran back to her apartment in the contestant quarters as fast as she could, with Glade close on her heels. ¡°Good work!¡± he called. ¡°Thanks!¡± she said back, looking over her shoulder for a few seconds. ¡°Now, it¡¯s in your hands. Finish the job!¡± ¡°Where are you going?¡± She took the final flight of stairs up to the contestants¡¯ quarters two at a time. ¡°I¡¯m going to the Vale Chambers on Barra Secundus! I can¡¯t stay here, or in the public eye for much longer, now that I¡¯m out of the tournament. They¡¯ll take every opportunity to destroy me.¡± ¡°You cannot go alone,¡± Glade stressed. ¡°I¡¯m not a Quartermaster anymore. I can delve deeper.¡± ¡°The depths of the chambers were made for Grand Admirals or higher. The Dragon Gods built them, Vayra. There will be powerful enemies guarding the Vale Cores.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°She will not be going alone.¡± They both stopped halfway up the flight of stairs. At the top stood Myrrir, his hand on the hilt of his sword. ¡°We will delve together. I¡¯ve shown my hand, and I have a target on my back as well. I need to leave, too, and you¡¯ll be better off with me.¡± Vayra sprinted to the top of the stairs and lowered her voice as well. ¡°How do I know you won¡¯t stab me in the back as soon as we¡¯re in the depths of the Chambers?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t, really.¡± Myrrir backed up as she walked down the hallway, facing her. ¡°But I haven¡¯t led you astray up until now, and I don¡¯t plan on stabbing you in the back ever. I made a promise to an old man that I¡¯d do the right thing, and this is how I start making things right. I have to do something to help.¡± ¡®To be fair to him,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, ¡®he has always been upfront about his intentions, and he¡¯s never lied to you.¡¯ Vayra nodded. ¡°Alright. Come to our apartment. I¡¯m grabbing my supplies. Do you have everything you need?¡± He patted a small brown haversack hanging at his hip. ¡°I have everything. Rations, a few elixirs I had left.¡± ¡°Give me a few minutes, then.¡± The three ran down the hallway until they reached their room, then stepped inside. Glade led, and Vayra followed close behind, stepping slowly. There shouldn¡¯t have been time for anyone to lay a trap, but she couldn¡¯t be too careful. Not when they were so close to absolute victory. She flitted around the room, filling her own haversack with rations and leftover food from the tournament rations. She made sure to keep some meat for Adair, then made sure her Namola elixirs were still intact. She took a swig of one¡ªshe didn¡¯t know what Varion¡¯s axe had been made out of, but she didn¡¯t want to find out the hard way¡ªthen tucked the rest back into the sack. Finally, she snatched her old white cloak off a wall hook and threw it over her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± she said. ¡°Good luck, Glade. I¡¯ll try to be back before the final fight.¡± ¡°Now, both of you, please wait,¡± Glade said. ¡°Karmion¡¯s Ko-Ganall. He is not stupid. He will launch them. In order to keep you trapped here, he will try to block off the port. I imagine he is planning on using his weapon on you, then letting the Ko-Ganall finish the job while he abandons ship. You will have died in an accident, or so it would look.¡± ¡°Captain Pels can run whatever blockade they have. Especially if we go fast.¡± Vayra looked out the window on the opposite wall. It was midday, but a chunk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s crust floated in front of the sun, blocking out the light. Lanterns and torches lit up all around the arena. ¡°If we can make it to the port soon, we¡¯ll be there before Karmion¡¯s fleet can surround the Stream.¡± She clasped his wrist, and he clasped hers back. He said, ¡°Be safe.¡± ¡°Find Ameena,¡± Vayra said. ¡°She¡¯s your best ally here.¡± ¡°I will.¡± Then, she turned back to Myrrir. ¡°I¡¯m going to sprint to the Harmony and tell the crew to make ready. Keep up as best as you can, but if you¡¯re not there by the time the sails are down, we¡¯ll leave without you.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± Myrrir said. Vayra activated the Astral Shroud. She hadn¡¯t had time to refill her mana much, leaving her just over a half core full, but using just the Shroud to travel from the arena to Shatterport shouldn¡¯t run her empty. She darted off through the hallways of the arena, passing between flustered workers and guards, and in less than a minute, emerged out onto the road to Shatterport. With her head tucked, she sprinted to the city as fast as she could. The chunk of crust shifted away from the sun, and illumination fell back onto the central island of the arena. In the distance, along the frayed ends of the Stream, she spotted an unusually large number of ships sailing down to the planet. Probably more of Karmion¡¯s fleet coming to join the effort. She arrived in the Velaydian section of the port with only a sliver of mana to spare, then ran down the pier to the Harmony. Kertogg and Tressdott still stood on the pier in front of the ship, arguing, but this time, Vayra ran past them and sprang up onto the Harmony¡¯s main deck in a single leap. ¡°Captain Pels!¡± Vayra called. ¡°Can the ship sail any time soon?¡± After a few seconds, Pels ran to the front railing of the quarterdeck. ¡°Vayra? What do you need?¡± ¡°How are you feeling about running a blockade?¡± Pels glanced over his shoulder at the base of the Stream. Already, the Elderworld fleet was forming a line abreast, blocking off the Stream¡¯s junction with the surface of the planet. ¡°That? No problem.¡± ¡°One other thing,¡± Vayra said. ¡°We¡¯ll have an extra passenger this time.¡± Chapter 50: Approaching the Vale [Volume 4] Glade marched out into the center of the arena to face Drandall. So far, Glade kept his sword in his sheath, but his opponent, a broad, muscular man who stood nearly a head taller, had already lifted his hammer off his back. It was a warhammer-sized blacksmith¡¯s hammer, with a smooth head that tapered aerodynamically and elegantly. For a moment, Glade debated announcing that he held no ill will against Farrir, Drandall¡¯s sponsor, but if the Forge God had qualms about Glade fighting his champion, he would¡¯ve said so. ¡°Congratulations on advancing this far,¡± said Drandall, dipping his head to Glade. ¡°I will not hesitate to seize victory if I see my chance, but know that I have nothing but respect for you.¡± ¡°Th¡ªthank you,¡± Glade said. ¡°I do not really know you, but I imagine I will feel likewise about you.¡± ¡°I heard about how you helped save a batch of contestants from Larra, and that you¡¯ve aided the Mediator in her adventures.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Glade drew his sword. ¡°We are here to help, after all.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve spread the word as best I can, and many in the audience are aware of who you are.¡± ¡°That might explain the cheering we have been getting.¡± Drandall smiled. ¡°Perhaps.¡± Before Glade could say anything else, the fight began. He ducked aside one way, then withdrew his swordwyrm, which flew in the other direction. They circled around, trying to slip closer to Drandall, but he whirled his hammer around in a massive arc, preventing any easy approaches. At one point, he struck the swordwyrm, flinging it across the arena and denting the fuller. Whenever Glade tried to lash out with a whip of metal filings and shavings, Drandall hit them with forge-aspect Arcara, melting and deforming them until they no longer resembled blades at all¡ªand preventing Glade from using them. He ran out of mana before he could get within striking range, and he had no choice but to back up and raise his hands in surrender. His mouth was dry, his throat was sandpaper, and black specks whirled in front of his eyes. Not a good look, no matter how he put it. He kept his head high, though, and returned to the edge of the arena. Right now, only King Tallerion¡¯s aide and Ameena stood at the edge, waiting for him. Ameena held out a bucket of Stream water, and with a thankful nod, he plunged his hands into the bucket. ¡°I don¡¯t have to remind you of the stakes of your next fight, Mr. Charl,¡± said the aide. ¡°You cannot afford any more mistakes.¡± Glade winced. ¡°Apologies, but he is strong and skilled.¡± But Vayra had cleared the way for him. He had to keep up with her and make good on her victory. ¡°You can do it,¡± Ameena said. ¡°Glade, I haven¡¯t known you for too long, but I¡¯ve seen more impressive feats from you than anyone else here. You don¡¯t understand¡ª¡± ¡°I promise, I do.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Ameena insisted. ¡°You¡¯ve accomplished what most God-heirs struggle for entire lifetimes over, and you¡¯ve done it with a weak spirit. Sure, you had a good teacher, but even the best teacher can¡¯t turn a ground squirrel into a Mediator.¡± ¡°I am not a Mediator.¡± ¡°It was just a metaphor¡­oh, don¡¯t be so literal.¡± Her ears flicked forward and back. ¡°Trust yourself. Get out there and destroy him¡­in a half hour.¡± And so he waited a half hour. He refilled his mana, absorbing what he could from the bucket and draining the spirit-water of its energies. By the time the second round began, his mana was nearly full. He drew his sword, then patted the swordwyrm on its hilt. ¡°Alright, buddy, ready?¡± ¡°Sword-friend can do this!¡± the wyrm chittered. ¡°One can hope.¡± Glade approached the center of the arena and faced Drandall, and the second round began almost immediately. And it started the exact same way. Drandall unleashed broad, sweeping strikes with his hammer, beating Glade back. This time, though, Glade didn¡¯t retreat. He ducked under a swipe, then darted forward and struck Drandall¡¯s hammer on its haft, pushing on it. He barely moved it. With a shout, Glade fuelled his enhanced body as hard as he could. He cycled to the swordwyrm, drawing Arcara back and forth, and raised himself up to get better leverage. Finally, the swordwyrm joined him, pushing down on Drandall¡¯s hammer. They drove it into the ground, and the swordwyrm accepted Glade¡¯s strength, pinning the hammer in place while Glade whirled his sword up to Drandall¡¯s throat. Stolen novel; please report. Drandall dropped his hammer and stopped cycling, then said, ¡°You take victory this time. It was a good fight.¡± Glade had nothing nearly as blunt to say back to Drandall, so instead, he nodded and backed away to the edge to refill his mana. By the time the next round began, his mana was full once more. He approached the center of the arena, and both him and Drandall delivered a curt nod to each other before the last round began. But this time, Glade knew the strategy. Drandall was slow, and if Glade could pin his hammer or delay it, it opened the man up for attack. With a shout, he advanced across the arena, ducking away from hammer blows and deflecting pulses of yellow-orange Arcara. There was no point in attacking with his metal filings; Drandall would just disperse them and make them useless. Instead, he split Drandall¡¯s attacks with his enhanced cutting edge, pushing through and dispersing the hot Arcara to either side of himself. With each attack, Drandall was spending Arcara, potentially weakening himself, but at the point of Admirals, such a loss was miniscule. When Drandall swung to one side, Glade and the swordwyrm jumped in and pushed his hammer down again. This time, though, when Glade tried to reach up and swipe at the man¡¯s neck, his sword collided with a Ward. It hovered in the air. Glade concentrated more Arcara into the cutting edge of his blade and tried again. He cut through the air-suspended shield, but Drandall had bought time to free his hammer. With a broad swipe, he pushed Glade back. The fight continued a few more long minutes, Glade seeking an opening and Drandall pushing him back, until Glade and the swordwyrm managed once more to pin the man¡¯s sword down to the side. Glade didn¡¯t waste his chance. He funnelled as much Arcara as he could into his sword, letting it run down the Moulded Arcara inscriptions and ornaments, transmitting and filling the sword with extra, Ward-splitting sharpness. He hacked straight through a shield of yellow light, then brought the blade right up to Drandall¡¯s throat, stopping only an inch or two away. Drandall nodded and backed away slowly. He released his hammer and stopped cycling, then said, ¡°Well fought.¡± ¡°For you as well.¡± The Harmony arrived at Barra Secundus early in the planet¡¯s morning, though by her best guess, it would only have been late evening on the Shattered Moon. The sun rose over the eastern coast, illuminating a steep wall of obsidian cliffs. Tough grasses covered the tops, along with gray shrubs and sparse copses of purple-leaved aspens. The atmosphere tasted sweet, and something in the air left a faint magenta haze in the sky¡ªno matter how high the sun climbed. The main port clung to the cliff walls like barnacles on a ship¡¯s hull. Its houses had dark wooden frames and pale plaster walls, and the roofs had been thatched with gray hay or magenta tiles. Smoke chuffed out of chimneys, and the stench of fish being processed wafted across the water for miles. Walkways ran down to a sheltered inlet, where the ships docked and accepted cargo. Workers stacked bundles of gray hay and crates of grain on the ships¡¯ decks, and unloaded imports from belowdeck. ¡°Any big cities here?¡± Vayra asked, glancing back at Captain Pels and the navigators, who laid out maps of the planet¡¯s surface on the table. ¡°Or, are the Vale Chamber entrances marked?¡± ¡°There is a city of a couple thousand to the south,¡± Pels said. ¡°But it¡¯s largely a producer world; they create and export goods for the larger ecuminopises.¡± ¡®Which suits our purposes,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®A heavily-populated world would¡¯ve raided even the furthest depths of their Chambers long ago, if they had some. Eventually, a Grand Admiral would¡¯ve ventured down, or a god would¡¯ve sent a party into the depths.¡¯ Vayra turned and walked back to the table, then circled around. The navigators had spread out a detailed map of the coast and the inlets, plus a few inland trails. Myrrir stood behind them, his arms crossed, watching with an awkward expression on his face. Tiny dots of ink lined the coast. They were more condensed than the villages could be¡ªVayra could still only see one village, but by this maps¡¯ reckoning, she should¡¯ve been able to see three. So half the dots couldn¡¯t have been villages. She ran her finger across the sheet of parchment until she found the nearest village (named Gloamhead), then traced a path north¡ªthe direction the wind was blowing¡ªuntil she reached a dot. Only a few miles north. It, like most of the other specks, had a name with some variation of ¡®door¡¯ in it. Wedgedoor was the nearest. ¡°Pels,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Can you bring us there? We¡¯ll make a jump for it.¡± ¡°As you wish,¡± he said, then delivered her instructions to the coxswain and lieutenants. The Harmony turned, heading northward up the coast. As they approached, Vayra stared at the shoreline cliffs. They were about a quarter-mile high, but with no beach or even shards of rock in the sea. Just a sheer, unnatural-looking wall of rock. Halfway up the wall, a doorway made of gray stone emerged. It would barely be large enough for a human to duck through, and simple rune-covered columns demarcated it from the rest of the rock. A ledge, only a few feet wide, separated it from the rest of the cliff. ¡°That is the entrance,¡± Myrrir said, walking up to the railing. ¡°Can you jump the distance?¡± He drew gunpowder out from his powderhorn and used it to Brace his legs. When he stepped up onto the railing, it shook the boards and rattled the entire ship. ¡°I can make it,¡± Vayra said, though she didn¡¯t exactly believe herself. The Harmony was a half mile from the coast. ¡°I will meet you ashore, then.¡± He leapt of the railing, the force of his takeoff making the ship rock and shudder, then launched himself through the air. ¡°Phas,¡± Vayra whispered, ¡°is our regular Bracing strong enough?¡± ¡®Not enough to get you all the way. But you are an Admiral now, and with your internal Ward, you might be able to extend your flight.¡¯ ¡°How?¡± ¡®You drew the starlight into your channels. Your channels have a strong physical presence, now. Manipulate it, control it, and pull your entire body up into the air. Hover.¡¯ Vayra grimaced, but the principle made sense. She stepped up onto the railing, then looked back at Pels. ¡°We won¡¯t be long, hopefully. I¡¯ll make sure we emerge from this same exit.¡± Then she jumped over the railing. Chapter 51: Delving [Volume 4] Vayra first tested her basic Bracing technique to see how far it would carry her. She filled her legs with Starlight Arcara and leapt, blasting through the air, but nowhere near as far as Myrrir had. She hadn¡¯t practiced her Bracing techniques, and even if she had, she didn¡¯t have an enhanced body with the same purpose. ¡®Lift, Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ scolded. ¡®And use the internal Warding, for the Stream¡¯s sake!¡¯ Vayra activated her Ward technique, then, at the same time, concentrated her will like she would for a Reach, and lifted up on the starlight Arcara within her channels. It buoyed her like a current of air, lifting her, and giving her jump an elegant longevity. She sailed through the air until she reached the ledge and landed in a crouch beside Myrrir without even making a thud. From the looks of things, his landing had created a spiderweb of cracks all throughout the platform. She turned to face the Chambers¡¯ entrance. It was wide open, unrestricted, no brick wall or runic code blocking it. ¡°No¡­Chambers Company meddling? No fueling the runes to open the entrance?¡± ¡°If that was the case, I wouldn¡¯t have volunteered to come with you,¡± said Myrrir. ¡°No, the entrances here have not been tampered with. This is their original form.¡± He tucked his head down and stepped into the gloom of the tunnel. ¡°Why Muspellar, then?¡± Vayra conjured her seer-core and followed Myrrir in, then held out the orb of condensed starlight to illuminate their way. The hallways of the Chamber were angular and plain, just like the Vale Chambers on Muspellar, and there were no natural lights within. The hallway slowly sloped downward into the earth, and even underground, in the distance, a magenta haze hung in the air. ¡°Muspellar was a busy industrial planet,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°It was an ideal location for training their recruits.¡± ¡°And this¡­?¡± ¡°Barra Secundus is an isolated farming and mercantile planet,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Its biggest export is furs. The Company would rather send sparse expeditions to raid the Chambers than use it for training.¡± She nodded, then ran out in front of him. She had the light, so it made sense to lead. ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°We need to get as deep as we can as fast as we can,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Whenever we find a downward sloping tunnel, we take it. I¡¯ll have Phason¨¦ keep note of our progress so we don¡¯t get lost.¡± ¡°As good as any plan you guys come up with, I suppose,¡± Myrrir muttered. ¡°You have anything better?¡± ¡°There should be a chute somewhere,¡± he said. ¡°A vent of sorts. It would¡¯ve once led to the surface, however it will have long since been covered in dirt.¡± ¡°For what purpose?¡± ¡°The Dragon Gods built these chambers as a means of communication and transport. They transmit messages, and they used to transport the Dragons themselves through the Stream as nothing but spiritual energy¡ªhence the need for a strong Vale Core. That functionality has long since degraded, but would¡¯ve needed to vent Arcara to the surface somehow.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°So we find a chute, and it¡¯ll lead us down into the depths. Got it.¡± They traversed the Chambers at a light jog, using their enhanced Admiral-stage endurance to sustain themselves. Vayra relied on her enhanced healing to sustain her muscles, where Myrrir powered through the process with the use of his regular body, feeding it mana to strengthen his muscles and use less effort to traverse the distance. The tunnels descended, both sloping gently, and sometimes relying on winding staircases to drop vast distances into the earth. There were a few thin shafts to let in light, but nothing that indicated a deep Arcara venting chute. Eventually, they reached an intersection where both options led across flat ground. Vayra stopped, then turned right after picking at random, but Myrrir said, ¡°Wait. The other way.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she whispered. ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°Use your spiritual sight,¡± he explained. ¡°Look closely at the rocks and trace the routes the Arcara travels. There¡¯s a tug to the left. It wasn¡¯t as strong before, but we¡¯re getting closer to the chute.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. She activated her spiritual sight. Before, on Muspellar, when she¡¯d used it in the halls, the walls had just been a mix of colours, but she¡¯d since refined it. Probably not as well as Myrrir had, but she hadn¡¯t had as long to work on it. Ruts of deep purple light, previously invisible to her mortal eyes, ran along the walls to the left. In the distance, a deep presence glowed beyond the rock¡ªand along with it, she felt some spiritual beasts congregating. Reluctantly, she said, ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± They ran to the left. She conjured her scythe nonchalantly as she ran, and Myrrir drew his sword. The tunnel swerved and turned a few times, with only one option to travel, and the presence of the spiritual beasts grew stronger¡ªand closer. They left a faint wisp of danger in her senses, but not as threatening as she had expected. Finally, they rounded a sharp corner and came face to face with a cluster of five upright, man-shaped monsters. They had the same shape as Muspellar¡¯s magmaspawn¡ªblack rock bodies with cracks and gaps, horns, and a humanoid face¡ªexcept instead of glowing orange magma, pale purple light lit their eyes and the gaps in their form. She stopped where she stood and backed up. She¡¯d never fought five at once before. And then Myrrir sprinted past her. In a single swipe, he bashed one in half, scattering its rocky remains across the room. Right. Last time she¡¯d fought magmaspawn, she¡¯d been a Quartermaster. These¡­were probably still rated around the same. Quartermaster or below. She threw her scythe into the room as hard as she could, and it cleaved and smashed a straight line through the clump of purple magmaspawn, smashing their bodies in half or cutting through them with ease. Only one remained, which Myrrir crushed with a spear of gunpowder. They stood among the dispersing essence of the magmaspawn in a broad room. Along two walls, other tunnels sprouted, but directly ahead was an opening. There was no wall, only a drop off into a deep, cylindrical chamber nearly a hundred feet across. She ran over to the edge and leaned over. There was no railing, no walkway in it. A whiff of imagination arose from Phason¨¦¡ªthe goddess pictured a column of violet Arcara surging up the chute and venting into the sky above. Only now, there was no sky. Just a silted over, clogged ceiling. ¡°That¡¯s our way down,¡± she said, then stepped over the edge. There was no sense in waiting around for more fodder to catch up with them. ¡°Phas, you¡¯re keeping track of the way we came, right?¡± ¡®I am, but focus on not falling to your death!¡¯ Vayra held out her arms and activated her internal Ward, then supported and lifted the Arcara within her channels, slowing her fall. She descended like a leaf in the wind. Myrrir jumped behind her, but instead of buoying himself, he simply dropped. In the dim light of her seer-core, she watched him fall to the pit¡¯s floor and Ward himself. He collided with the stone and sent up a plume of dust and smoke. It rose up high enough to choke Vayra as she fell, and blocked her sight as she descended. The chute had to be at least a mile deep, maybe two, and by the time she reached the bottom, the air was significantly warmer. She landed softly beside Myrrir, then launched a Starlight Palm to disperse the dust. A high-ceilinged tunnel ran off in each cardinal direction, each wide and tall enough to fit a galleon through. The Vale core, whatever it was, had to have an intense spiritual presence. They could track it that way. Vayra shut her eyes and drew on her extra senses. She took a step in each each direction, trying to determine which way would make the tingle in the back of her neck grow stronger or weaker. North. There was something powerful to the north, stronger than anything else in the Chambers. When she set her senses on it, a weight pressed down on her core, and pressure pushed on her shoulders. The Vale Core had the spiritual presence of an Emissary. ¡°North?¡± Myrrir said. ¡°That¡¯s the direction I¡¯m sensing.¡± ¡°North,¡± Vayra confirmed. They set off through the tunnel. When she activated her spiritual sight, the walls shone so bright it made her eyes hurt, just like the first time she¡¯d used the sight, and she couldn¡¯t make anything out. She deactivated it almost immediately and rubbed her eyes. Even now, the godly forces outmatched her. She wasn¡¯t ready. Her stomach sank and her hands trembled. Then a calming presence welled up inside her, passed over from Phason¨¦. ¡®Remember, Vayra,¡¯ said the Goddess, ¡®you still have time.¡¯ Not much, and that was no excuse. Vayra had to do what she could to get herself ready. With each step she and Myrrir took down the culvert, a chittering sound built in the walls, far closer than she¡¯d ever heard it. The stones beneath her feet vibrated, and a sweet, honey-like smell filled the air. ¡°Myrrir?¡± ¡°The walls,¡± he said. She glanced side to side. The cracks in the walls began to glow purple, and magmaspawn emerged from the voids, pulling themselves out and attaching black rocks to their form. Vayra tugged her pistol out from her belt and pointed it, then blasted a beam of starlight out through it. It blasted the creature in the head, disintegrating it and scattering its energy all across the wall. But more emerged on all sides, and even in front or behind. Hundreds of heads peered out from the walls, and hundreds more followed. ¡°Run!¡± Vayra called. ¡°They¡¯ll overwhelm us if we don¡¯t move!¡± She didn¡¯t bother with a spiritual scan or analysis. They were deeper, and these magmaspawn had to be stronger than before. Myrrir didn¡¯t protest. They sprinted down the center of the hallway, running down an aisle of light as the creatures closed in on either side. Whenever one staggered in front, she blasted it with a beam of starlight from her pistol, or Myrrir destroyed it with a jab of gunpowder. Their walkway grew tighter and tighter, and magmaspawn reached for them. One caught her across the calf and slashed her skin, but she kept running. Up ahead, a warm magenta glow seeped down the tunnel, filling the edges and cracks with a new shade of light. They had to be getting close, but there were too many magmaspawn. Their chitters and screeches grew so loud it was nearly unbearable. Then a deep bellow vibrated through the hall, sending tremors through her chest and making her throat shudder. All the magmaspawn halted, then scattered, running the opposite direction. Vayra glanced at Myrrir. He shook his head. Chapter 52: Death Wish [Volume 4] A shadow lumbered out of the mist ahead. Magenta flames crackled over a black silhouette of a tiger, and violet stripes glowed along its flanks. A halo of ink-black smoke circled around over its head, forming runes and calligraphic symbols. All together, it had to be twice her height. ¡°Not good,¡± Vayra whispered. She didn¡¯t know how not good it was, only that it wasn¡¯t good. A beast like that had to be a guardian of the veil core, and it had to be strong. ¡°It¡¯s the equivalent of a Grand Admiral,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°We will have to take it together.¡± She glanced at him, and for a moment, she wanted to instinctively protest. But she shut the feelings down and tightened her fists. ¡°How do we kill it?¡± ¡°This looks like a facility of the Violet Dragons,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Their realm was over simple force.¡± Vayra opened her mouth to ask another question, but the tiger pounced. It landed right in front of them, its paws striking the ground with a deep boom, and a shockwave blasted both Myrrir and Vayra in opposite directions. She crashed into the hallway wall and gasped, then staggered to her feet and layered her techniques. First, the Astral Shroud, then, from within her corespace, a stable loop with Adair. Atop that, she activated her Internal Wards and summoned the scythe. Finally, she used the Mediator Form, aligning with Phason¨¦, but keeping it under control. ¡°I will draw its attention!¡± Myrrir shouted. ¡°I need you to go for the kill!¡± ¡°We will!¡± Vayra yelled. With all her techniques, she had to be Grand Admiral equivalent. She could destroy the beast. She flourished her scythe out to the side. Myrrir jumped back toward the tiger, hacking at its forelegs with his sword. It locked eyes with him, and the runic halo above its head pulsed. An invisible bullet struck Myrrir in the chest, but a Ward of gunpowder formed overtop his cuirass, blocking the direct pulse. He only slid back a few feet. Again, the tiger attacked. He blocked it, and slid back, but it had dispersed all his gunpowder. ¡°Vayra!¡± he hissed. ¡°Attack!¡± She sprinted forward, leveraging the Astral Shroud, and flashed across the hallway. The tiger raised its forelegs and concentrated its next attack on her, but with cat-like reflexes, she altered her course and hacked through the beast¡¯s paw. It yowled and reared back, but she jumped for its exposed chest and throat and dragged her scythe along it. The tiger fell onto its back with a boom, but she was ready for the shockwave, and her Wards allowed her to pass straight through it. She jumped back onto it, landing on its belly, and preparing a killing blow. Its head snapped up, and it locked eyes with her. At the same time, her spirit cried out in warning, alerting her to a rush of gunpowder surging in from behind her. It was sharp, spear-shaped¡­ ¡°No¡­¡± she breathed. But the gunpowder broke off, then swirled around her and formed a cage, blocking the tiger¡¯s next pulse of invisible force. It gave her a perfect opening to strike a killing blow. She sprinted forward and slashed her scythe through the tiger¡¯s neck, severing its head. The entire beast collapsed, falling to porous black stones and sparks of purple glowing dust. Then, with a final pulse, the stones exploded outward, pattering against the walls of the hallway. Myrrir and Vayra both shielded themselves to protect from the explosion. All scattered except its head, where two coal-black hexagonal gemstones lay. ¡®Not gemstones,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Runestones.¡¯ Vayra knelt down and sifted through a layer of dust, then plucked up both the stones. They had perfect, impeccable runes carved in their centers, but she didn¡¯t know what they said or did. ¡°Phas, can you read these?¡± she whispered. ¡®I can. You¡¯ve got a Tarradhul, a concentration rune¡ªfor directing and condensing power. That¡¯s what it did to concentrate its pulses of force, I imagine. That¡¯s the left one.¡¯ Vayra picked it up and slotted it into her mechanical hand, then wrapped a set of starsteel wires into the tails of the rune to fuel it. ¡®And the right hand one is a Grurin rune, for impact.¡¯ The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Vayra inserted the second stone as well. ¡°Are you sure you should socket mysterious runestones from unknown sources?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°I¡ª¡± Vayra pulled her pistol out of her belt and pointed it down the hallway at a stray magmaspawn, then activated the concentration rune. The power of the rune condensed the starlight into a tighter beam and allowed it to surge out faster. It travelled down the hall further than ever before, and when it struck the magmaspawn, it ripped the creature to shreds. She blew the smoke off the muzzle of the pistol, then tucked it back into her belt. ¡°Wonderful.¡± ¡°You have a death wish,¡± Myrrir muttered. ¡°I see now how you two advanced so quickly.¡± ¡°One second,¡± Vayra said. She pulled her arm back, then launched a Starlight Palm at the wall while activating the impulse runestone. An enormous blue-white handprint the size of her body raced forward, vibrating and shaking the ground as it passed. When it collided, it burst apart, unleashing a shockwave and tearing cracks in the stone. A rain of dust fell, and pebbles scattered for hundreds of feet in every direction. Myrrir ducked, cringing and Warding himself. ¡°By the Stream¡­¡± ¡°You should¡¯ve added runestone sockets to your hands,¡± she said. ¡°I have no desire to implant foreign stones whose full purpose I don¡¯t understand,¡± Myrrir groaned. ¡°Your loss, then.¡± She turned around to face down the hall, again, in the direction that the magenta glow had come from¡ªand still was¡ªcoming from. The hallway expanded out into a domed hall with pilasters around its edges and fresco-painted roofs depicting purple and gold dragons standing on mountains or blotting out the sky with their spread, bat-like wings. At the center of the room, hovering in a floor-to-cieling cage of magenta light and Moulded Arcara, was a crystal sphere. Its individual crystals were cube-shaped, and when she squinted it seemed pixelated, but the squares were stacked and stepped without a formal grid to cling to. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Vayra breathed, stepping into the room and glancing side to side. Even without the guardian, the Vale Core unleashed a spiritual pressure that weighed on her, almost driving her to the ground, and it grew heavier as she approached. She blinked faster and opened her mouth, trying to pop the pressure in her ears, but nothing helped. ¡°How do we use it?¡± she asked Myrrir, who strode forward confidently, seemingly unaffected by the pressure. If he¡¯d grown up around Gods, he¡¯d have to be used to such strength. ¡°You need a broad message to all the Vale Chambers across the galaxy?¡± Myrrir chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m sure it has a threat detection and warning system, to alert all the other Chambers.¡± ¡°And we haven¡¯t triggered it yet?¡± ¡°Chances are, it¡¯s working on developing another guardian to throw at us, or summoning more minor enemies from elsewhere in the Chamber. Break the core¡¯s cage¡ªwhich we need to do anyway¡ªand we¡¯ll light the rest of the Chambers. King Tallerion will have his notice.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± She approached the cage of glowing, high-power Moulded Arcara, then mustered her scythe. With a spin, she applied her regular Bracing technique to her arms, then slashed at the cage. The lines of magenta Arcara didn¡¯t even bend, let alone crack or break. The Vale Core pulsed, then unleashed a wave of force. It caught her in the chest and flung her across the room. She crashed into an ornamental gray pilaster, Warding her back just in time, and it shattered under her impact. She rolled aside before any debris could fall on her, then hopped back up and dusted her shoulders off. ¡°That¡¯s not going to work,¡± she breathed. Myrrir turned in a circle, then sheathed his sword. ¡°You¡¯re not going to try?¡± she complained. ¡°No. I¡¯m not. We can¡¯t hit it directly. Maybe if we had a group of Grand Admirals pummelling it, but not us.¡± Vayra glanced back over her shoulder at the ruined pilaster. ¡°This entire place isn¡¯t Moulded Arcara. It might have been strong at one point, but not anymore.¡± ¡®But the Moulded Arcara still is, and if you keep hitting it, the Vale Core will hit you back. It¡¯ll win that fight.¡¯ ¡°But we don¡¯t have to hit it directly,¡± Vayra said. She pulled her arm back, then launched a Starlight Palm into the floor right at the edge of the cage. The stone shattered, and the Arcara bar suspended in it came loose. ¡°That should work,¡± Myrrir said. He launched a spear of gunpowder into the ceiling, loosing another bar. They circled around the outside of the core, driving techniques into the floor and ceiling and shattering the stone around it into dust. The bars themselves never shattered, but they broke free from the rock and tumbled to the ground, clinking like windchimes. Previously invisible rune-lines shot off the from the locations they were linked to, sending pulses of pure Arcara through the facility. ¡°And there¡¯s the galaxy-wide warning we need,¡± said Myrrir. The Vale Core stayed suspended in the air, hovering on its own free will. Vayra reached out and snatched it out of the air, and it didn¡¯t resist her, though even in her hand, it still wanted to hover. She was about to draw it into her corespace when Myrrir said, ¡°Wait. I am more proficient at handling a God¡¯s presence and such powerful pressures. And you already have one goddess in your corespace.¡± She chewed her lip. ¡°All¡­alright. But if you don¡¯t give it back, or if you damage it before we can use it¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ll destroy me.¡± He nodded. ¡°I believe you¡ªdon¡¯t worry. You already beat me once, remember?¡± She swallowed, then sighed. ¡°Yeah. I remember.¡± She tossed it to him, though it ended up gliding straight through the air more than arcing. He caught it and absorbed it into his corespace, then said, ¡°Now, let¡¯s get out of here, before the Chamber finds another way to destroy us.¡± Chapter 53: Calling The Fleet [Volume 4] King Tallerion and most of the sailors in the Velaydian fleet didn¡¯t see a change, but the Stream, but even their miniscule, near-nonexistent spirits felt a pulse run through the water. Something changed, something resonated in the distance, and the runic markings on the chamber doorways along the nearby cliff face lit up with glowing blue light¡ªeven their mortal eyes could see the change. It was done. The Mediator was calling them. Standing at the railing of his flagship¡¯s quarterdeck, he sucked in a deep breath, then said, ¡°We don¡¯t have enough.¡± ¡°A thousand ships is a large fleet,¡± stated one of his low-aides. ¡°We will be lucky to break their line of battle,¡± he said. ¡°Should I give the order to retreat?¡± the second low-aide asked. ¡°We can still disband this venture and send the ships back where they came from. There would be time to shore up our defenses and¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± said King Tallerion. ¡°Hold your heads high. We either die cowering behind our lines, or we die in our ships. On our knees, or on our feet.¡± He pushed away from the railing and marched to the ship¡¯s coxswains and captain. A troop of navigators emerged from below deck, awaiting orders. Their hands were trembling. ¡°You are men of the Royal Velaydian navy, and I am a veteran of the Royal Dragoons,¡± said King Tallerion softly. ¡°We fight. Raise the flags and drop the sails. It is on the seas of the Shattered Moon that our fate will be decided.¡± The coxswains swallowed, and the captain whispered an order to them. They spun the ship¡¯s wheel, angling out toward the open sea and the Stream. King Tallerion marched out in front of the wheel hub and plucked a brass cone from a hook. He marched to the ship¡¯s main deck, then to the forecastle, and looked over the gathered Velaydian navy. ¡°When I came of age, I swore an oath to this star-nation as a Royal Dragoon!¡± King Tallerion called. ¡°I swore a second oath twenty three years ago, when I took the crown! Both oaths were to serve my people! Sailors and officers of my navy, you have all taken equal oaths to your ships, to me, and to your people. It is time to fulfill them. We sail to the Shattered Moon, and to immortal glory!¡± ¡°And, with nothing left to lose but a broken heart, the last of my family dead, and my planet going up in flames, I set off to Harvest Sanctuary to see what I could make of the shreds of my life¡­I have no love for the bluecoats or Karmion, any more than they might love me¡­¡± Ameena slurred her words. She barely sat on the barstool anymore, and was more bent in half, leaning on the tavern¡¯s main counter. Glade and Ameena sat alone at a pop-up establishment near the base of the arena. The establishment was intended for mortal guests, but it was early in the morning, and no one was around to be threatened by their presence¡ªexcept a single tavern keeper. Glade nursed a single glass of milk. He couldn¡¯t afford alcohol on the morning before the final fight of the tournament. When he wasn¡¯t taking sips, he set his sword down on his thighs and sharpened it. Half the metal filings, he fed to the swordwyrm, which hovered above the stool on the opposite side of him, and the other half, he slipped into his pouch. Every time he fed metal filings to the swordwyrm, he passed a loop of Arcara over to it, preparing to advance to Grand Admiral. His Arcara channels were a spiderweb of hair-thin glass, now. One wrong touch, and they¡¯d disintegrate. Worse, black char built up around the edges, restricting the flow and making each cycle excruciating. The universe hated his advancement. If he¡¯d been a God-heir pushing himself this hard, he¡¯d have annihilated his spiritual system before now. The only saving grace was his naturally small well of mana, allowing him to stretch further. But you could only stretch a sliver of butter over so much bread. Eventually, you¡¯d sink the knife in too hard, and the bread would rip. His Arcara system just had to make it to Grand Admiral, then he could rest. ¡°Sword-friend,¡± said the swordwyrm sullenly. Its hilt drooped and its tip angled toward the floor. ¡°Hold together.¡± ¡°I will.¡± Glade reached over and patted it on the crossguard, then hung his head. ¡°We are almost through. We win, we lose¡­it will be over soon.¡± Ameena, who sat on a stool just beside him, leaned over and rested both her arms on his shoulder. Her breath reeked of rum, and she slurred, ¡°I believe in you¡­he¡¯s got no axe, and he¡¯s got¡­he¡¯s got you to deal with. You beat me, after all¡­¡± She was only two drinks in, but apparently, lapins got drunk faster than most, not to mention the fact that she was lighter and smaller than most people. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Thanks,¡± Glade whispered back. ¡°I will do my best, but Varion is still strong. And he will recognize my weaknesses. He will seek to exploit my stretched spirit, no doubt.¡± The sun was rising. He¡¯d only slept a few hours that night, and though he might have wanted¡ªand needed¡ªmore, there was no more time. He pushed himself up, then tucked his sword into his sheath. He¡¯d almost reached Grand Admiral. He could feel it in his core, in his soul, in his spirit, but nothing happened. It was like a word was on the tip of his tongue, like he was lacking one final push. ¡°Thank you for the drinks,¡± he said, then downed the last glug of milk. ¡°No matter what happens¡­I would not mind hanging out with you again.¡± ¡°Yessir,¡± Ameena slurred, then nudged his shoulder. ¡°Say, you¡¯re actually wanting to¡­meet me again? I better remember that when the hangover is done.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± he said, then bowed his head and beckoned for the swordwyrm to follow him. ¡°Thank you for your help and your time¡ªin case we do not meet again.¡± Vayra and Myrrir sprinted back through the tunnels of the Vale Chambers, a horde of magmaspawn tight on their heels. The beasts wanted their Vale Core back. ¡°Phas, which way at the next intersection?¡± Vayra shouted. A pair of magmaspawn lumbered into the hallway ahead of them, but she shattered them with a Starlight Palm, sending their debris tumbling across the floor. Myrrir launched an arc of gunpowder backward, disintegrating the nearest magmaspawn, but it barely made a dent in their numbers. ¡®Turn left!¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Then you¡¯ll have a straight shot out to the open air.¡¯ ¡°The same entrance we came from?¡± ¡®The very same!¡¯ ¡°Wonderful!¡± Her boots skittered on the floor as she tried to make the turn, but she was moving too fast. She rammed her shoulder into the wall and halted for a second, then kept sprinting. Ahead, a rectangle of light beckoned to then, revealing the outside air. On Barra Secundus, it was hard to tell what time of day, but she guessed it was midday. ¡°Ready to jump?¡± she called to Myrrir. He was right behind her. ¡°Your ship better be where it was when we arrived!¡± ¡°We can hope!¡± When she reached the final thirty paces to the door, she activated her standard Bracing technique, then sprang from the ledge and lifted the starlight in her channels. The Harmony looked like only a tiny model in the distance at first, but she crossed the distance with great speed. It had drifted slightly from where they¡¯d left it, and she had to push herself to the side slightly, then cushioned her landing when she arrived on the main deck. Immediately, she poured a Ward into the boards, preparing for Myrrir to land with a heavy, uncaring impact, but instead, he splashed into the water a few ship lengths behind them, sending up a plume higher than the Harmony¡¯s masts. ¡°Nice splash,¡± Vayra muttered. ¡®Now¡¯s not the time,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Glade¡¯s fight will be starting soon, and we need to get back as soon as we¡­can¡­¡¯ As Phason¨¦ trailed off, distant murmurs arose from the crew. Sailors looked up at the sky and pointed, and some began gasping unintelligibly. A horde of void-borne beasts floated through the void, flying close to the Stream, but only as a general guideline. Most had bodies the size of a small moon, with uncountable eyes on an axehead-shaped head. Thousands of tentacles trailed behind them, whipping through a branch of the Stream and turning it to mist. They were still hundreds of thousands of miles away, further than the orbit of Barra¡¯s moon, and they were hazy in the sky, but they were there nonetheless, and they were approaching. The Ko-Ganall¡ªa Commodore¡¯s core gone supernova, its raw strength turned to an aimless beast. And they were heading straight for the Shattered Moon. Barra was just in the way. Screams arose from the shoreline villages, and desperate ships sailed for the Stream with half their crew. The local defense forces aimed enormous planetary defense siege mortars up at Stream, as if it might help them. But you couldn¡¯t destroy a giant with a toothpick. ¡°Myrrir will catch up!¡± Captain Pels shouted. ¡°Everyone, to your posts! Raise the anchor, full sail! Once we¡¯re on the Stream, we¡¯re faster than them!¡± Vayra sprinted back to the quarterdeck. When she arrived, she panted, ¡°Captain, can we outrun the horde? The Harmony barely escaped a single Ko-Ganall last time, when it was Hammontor¡¯s.¡± ¡°The Harmony wasn¡¯t in top shape back then,¡± said Pels. ¡°Today, it is. We¡¯ll reach the Shattered Moon a few hours before they will. Your Velaydian fleet better be ready to lend a hand and evacuate the planet, though. Or we¡¯ll just be postponing our doom, eh?¡± When the Harmony reached the Stream, Myrrir caught up. He jumped over the stern railing and landed on the quarterdeck in a crouch. ¡°The ship moved.¡± As they ascended the Stream, Vayra clutched the railing. The steadily accelerated, and just in time. The Stream branched, leading away from the Ko-Ganall horde and the Barra System, and Pels directed the ship along it. All the while, Vayra stood beside Myrrir at the stern railing, watching Barra Secundus. There was nothing they could do for the residents, but she still clenched her fists and shut her eyes when the beasts smashed through the planet like an asteroid hailstorm, tearing it to shreds in a few short seconds and continuing onward. ¡°When we get to the Shattered Moon,¡± she said, ¡°we won¡¯t have much time. I¡¯m going to the Cardinal Arrant to steal Karmion¡¯s weapon and free Nathariel. If you¡¯re going to bail, now would be a good time.¡± Myrrir snorted. ¡°I¡­have an idea of what needs doing. But I¡¯m not backing down now. We¡¯ll split ways on the surface, but I imagine we¡¯ll see each other again before the end.¡± ¡°Then¡­thank you for your help, Myrrir,¡± Vayra said. ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me. No amount of good actions can make up for all I¡¯ve done in my life, but I¡¯ll meet my destiny nonetheless.¡± Chapter 54: Approaching Doom [Volume 4] ¡°We¡¯ve got a blockade ahead,¡± Captain Pels said. ¡°It¡¯s tighter than on the way out. They¡¯ve closed ranks, and they¡¯re not letting anyone in or out without a fight. I hope you¡¯ve got a plan.¡± As the Harmony approached the Shattered Moon, Vayra ran to the quarterdeck¡¯s front railing and gazed down at the Stream ahead. It was impossible to blockade the Stream itself. Even if someone had enough ships, they wouldn¡¯t be able to hold a formation for long before the currents and winds tossed them out of position. But they could block off the base of the Stream and attack any ship as soon as its keel touched the planetary ocean. The Elderworld fleet had done exactly that. A wall of ships blocked off the Stream at its very base, preventing any ship from entering or exiting. They left a gap between themselves, nearly twice the width of a hull, for safety¡¯s sake, but otherwise, they blocked all incoming or outgoing traffic. Vayra exhaled sharply. They¡¯d almost passed through the Moon¡¯s crust, and there wasn¡¯t much time for a plan. She¡¯d have to wing it. ¡°Load the cannons and get the crew ready to fire a volley!¡± she said, speaking as quickly as she could. It came out as more of a yell than she liked. ¡°Does anyone see the Cardinal Arrant in the blockade?¡± Pels handed her a spyglass, then pulled out one of his own. She swept back and forth across the blockade until she found Karmion¡¯s flagship. ¡°There!¡± she yelled, pointing at it. ¡°Move to the left! Uh¡­larboard! Aim for the nearest first rate ship! It¡¯s got three gun decks and a whole lot of bluecoats swarming on the deck!¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to attack it?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°I can¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Pels, fire a single volley when you¡¯re exactly side-by-side with them. I¡¯ll need the smoke as cover. When you pass, I won¡¯t be aboard anymore. Make for the port as fast as you can, and get to safety with the other Velaydian ships.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll send ships after us,¡± Pels warned. ¡°Keep together and hold on as long as you can. King Tallerion is coming to help.¡± ¡°Not as suicidal of a plan as I thought,¡± Myrrir muttered. ¡°I¡¯ll hold back as much of their volley as I can. When we reach the shore, I will depart and make for the arena.¡± Pels nodded quickly, then delivered the order to the main deck and the crew. ¡°Load the cannons and prepare a single volley from all starboard batteries!¡± A shrill whistle blast followed, and the lieutenants relayed his orders. Vayra ran to the railing, but she couldn¡¯t jump from the quarterdeck. She sprinted down to the main deck, then leapt up onto the rail at the middle of the ship and held onto one of the mainmast¡¯s stays. When the Harmony sloshed onto the flat ocean at the edge of the central floating island, they were only sailing at atmospheric speeds. With the wind blowing directly from the side, though, they caught it and navigated into position. A few ships in the blockade fired their bow cannons, but they splashed harmlessly into the ocean beside the Harmony. Bluecoats swarmed on the decks of the Elderworld ships, and Karmion¡¯s God-heirs stood by. Some threw grappling hooks at the Harmony, but Vayra and Myrrir knocked them away before they could trap the ship. They passed between the Cardinal Arrant and a smaller frigate. The two ships shifted, trying to sandwich the Harmony and trap it between their hulls, but the wind wouldn¡¯t cooperate with the frigate, and it could only move away, not closer. ¡°Fire!¡± Pels yelled when they were side-by-side with the Cardinal Arrant. The cannons boomed at once, and plumes of smoke and sawdust filled the air, obscuring everything between the ships for a few seconds. Vayra jumped to the Cardinal Arrant. She reached out and clung to an ornament between the ship¡¯s gun ports, then pressed herself flat against the hull so no one on deck would see her unless they looked straight down. When the Cardinal Arrant returned fire, she pressed her ear into her shoulder, then reached up with her other hand and plugged her other ear. Flame spewed from the gun ports on either side of her. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. But Myrrir was still aboard the Harmony. He Warded the hull, and he stopped an enemy cannon from firing when its shot was about to cleave through the Harmony¡¯s mast. Now Vayra just had to do her job. Before the smoke cleared, she swung her legs out to the side, then slipped in through the nearest open gun port. A pair of bluecoats stood behind the cannon in the port, but they were too busy reloading to notice her slip in through the side of the port and duck down behind a crate of cannonballs, keeping out of sight. ¡°They¡¯re past!¡± shouted an officer. ¡°They¡¯re past, hold your fire! The Losse and Territoire are pursuing. We hold our position!¡± Vayra exhaled in relief, then tucked herself tighter into a ball and waited. The gun ports slowly full shut and the gunners dispersed, returning to their previous duties about the ship¡ªand making it easier for her to sneak around. After ten minutes of sitting in unmoving silence, when her spiritual senses didn¡¯t alert her to any danger, she peered up over the edge of the crate. The gun deck was far from abandoned, but the bluecoats and officers were few enough that she could sneak around. It was time to get herself a new toy. When the Harmony reached the port and rejoined the remaining Velaydian ship, its two pursuing frigates broke off and circled like sharks, awaiting reinforcements. While Captain Pels shouted and coordinated with the other captains, trying to come up with a plan for their survival, Myrrir jumped down to the pier. He opened his mouth, about to try thanking them, then shut it again. He could thank them by continuing to help. But first, he had to make a stop at the arena. He knew exactly what he¡ªand the Mediator¡ªwould need. Every second the gates of Glade¡¯s waiting room spent swinging open felt like hours. Mid-morning light blazed in, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes from their rays. As soon as the doors parted completely, the crowd began cheering. King Tallerion¡¯s aide handed him a small vial with a shimmering turquoise liquid in it. ¡°Concentration boosting elixir. Compliments of the Order.¡± Glade took the vial graciously. It was only the width of his pinky finger, and a half inch shorter, but he downed the liquid quickly and cycled it. It swept the tiredness to the sides of his mind, but at the Admiral stage, it couldn¡¯t do much to improve his concentration that reforging his body hadn¡¯t already accomplished. Still, he nodded to the aide and handed the vial back, then summoned the swordwyrm from his corespace and stepped out into the open plain of the arena, crossing the moat at the edge. To make it a fair fight, an orb of water nearly three years in diameter hung to Glade¡¯s left, and a sphere of metal shards hung suspended to his right. Resources for both of them to draw on. Varion marched across the arena in the opposite direction, holding his chin high. His hands were empty, but the frost on his cloak stood upright today, like shards of white ice sprouted out of his shoulders. He heaved a sigh, then locked eyes with Glade. ¡°So I finally meet the prodigal disciple. Not so effective without the Mediator beside you, are you?¡± Glade snorted. ¡°How is your axe?¡± That earned a scowl in response. Any moment, the trumpet would sound, and the fight would begin. He drew his sword and cycled Arcara, but a faint tremble of danger emerged in his spiritual senses. Something arose from Varion¡ªa fluctuation in the man¡¯s spirit. It was trembling, like he was veiling himself down a stage and holding himself lower. Glanced winced. He had his suspicions, but complaining wouldn¡¯t do him any good now. If Varion was a Grand Admiral, he¡¯d have to work around it. When a scream arose from higher up in the audience stands, Glade almost mistook it for a shrill trumpet blast and leapt into action. But then more rang out, and he followed the audience¡¯s gazes up to the sky. Looming as misty pink forms in the distance, circling around the Shattered Moon¡¯s parent planet, was the horde of Ko-Ganall, like a wisp of a gas giant¡¯s ring. The atmosphere and distance made them look like a celestial object, but they were drawing closer. Karmion¡¯s voice echoed across the arena a few seconds before a hastily-made sunlight projection of him appeared. He cleared his throat and said, ¡°Do not fear, loyal mortals. You are under the protection of the High Pantheon, and the tournament must go on. But if you must watch, then witness Brann?l of the Wind, Vallor of Ships, and Bharrelion of the Moon rise to face the threat.¡± On cue, a god emerged from each of their tower. Brann?l encased herself in a cocoon of wind, whirling so fast it made the air around her misty. Vallor drew up a curved plank of wood, a canoe-shaped sword, and stepped onto it. Bharrelion shrouded herself in pale gray dust, which clung directly to her flesh in a tight coating, turning her statuesque. Then, with a boom, the three Gods leapt up into the sky. Their techniques carried them beyond the outer atmosphere and far out into the void beyond. It wouldn¡¯t sustain them for extended periods of time in the void, and they were the members of the pantheon best for extraterrestrial combat¡ªif Glade¡¯s Order education served him¡ªbut they could hold the Ko-Ganall off. But there were too many of the beasts for three gods alone to handle. Eventually, they would be overwhelmed. The mortal audience quieted, however, and some returned their attention to the arena below. Glade raised his sword again. The trumpet sounded, and the fight began. Chapter 55: Lyze [Volume 4] When the other gods leapt up to fight the Ko-Ganall, Karmion shook his head. They¡¯d slow the inevitable, yes, but they wouldn¡¯t stop the destruction of the Shattered Moon unless more joined them. Which he wasn¡¯t going to do, nor would his closest allies¡ªNilsenir and Kalawen. But he had to make a show of it. He flew down to his tower and ducked in through the window, then commanded the nearest Admirals, ¡°You three. Defend the crowd, and don¡¯t let any of them get harmed while you can help it.¡± No sense in degrading his standing in their eyes before they died. Afterward? He¡¯d blame the Ko-Ganall on a secret Velaydian plot to wipe out the pantheon, and the survivors would love him once more. ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± they said in unison, then ran to the railing of the viewing platform. Karmion ran to the stairway, then sprinted down through the tower and interior of the arena. As soon as he made it out to the open woods, he summoned his cloud of mist again and skimmed over the trees, racing toward the port, and toward the Cardinal Arrant. Myrrir climbed to the top of Altrous¡¯ tower and slipped in through a window, then sprinted across the floor a few paces to a table, where he ducked down and hid from the Admirals and the single Grand Admiral¡ªan aging man in a white robe, who¡¯d existed for centuries, but hadn¡¯t the fortune of advancing, and was nearing the end of his massive life. Myrrir still veiled himself, just in case. The room was like all the gods¡¯ viewing platforms¡ªwith an open wall along the arena-facing side. It being made of white marble and drowned in golden ornaments changed nothing. Altrous stood alone at the edge of the viewing platform, using a rune-scripted device on a tripod to redirect and amplify the sunlight. He drew on the reflected light from the arena floor and, with a Reach technique, condensed it into a beam and fed it into one end of the cylinder, then continued the technique and pushed it out the other end. It passed through a sheet of parchment, then into a different cube, then ran back out into the sky above the arena. It displayed a three-dimensional golden projection of the two combatants in the air. With the time it took the technique to function, the enlarged replay of events had to be about a minute behind the actual fight. Myrrir, still veiling himself, sprinted from behind the table to a pillar. When one of the admirals turned away, and when the others were too busy staring out at the events in the arena, Myrrir darted across the room to a different table, then snatched up a spare bottom cylinder device from the table on the other side of the room. Before anyone spotted him, spun behind a pillar. Light could only travel in a straight line, best Myrrir knew, and that extended to the realm of godly authorities. Altrous and his children could only use Reach techniques in a straight line. To bend the light, like he was doing, he needed runes of a different authority. But that meant the device controlled what the arena saw, not Altrous. Altrous only moved the light. If it came from a different source, the crowd would see a different projection, and Altrous would be powerless to prevent it. Myrrir tucked the cylinder into his pocket and, when he had an opportunity, jumped back out the window. Vayra didn¡¯t know how many other God-heirs were aboard the Cardinal Arrant and she didn¡¯t want to find out. She kept herself veiled as she crept across the ship¡¯s gun decks and up the stairways. In the distance, her senses picked out three powerful presences unveiling themselves. Gods. ¡®They¡¯re going to fight the Ko-Ganall,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡°They can survive in the void?¡± she whispered. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡®For a short time, yes. For a long time? No.¡¯ Vayra chewed the inside of her gums and pressed her back against a wall. She was almost at the main deck, then it was just a short dash to get into the great. But she didn¡¯t sense Karmion nearby. ¡°So we don¡¯t have long?¡± she whispered. A troop of bluecoats marched past, taking the stairs up to the main deck two at a time. Their muskets clattered and their haversacks jostled. She sealed her lips shut. ¡®They¡¯ll buy us time, but if no one gets off the moon, then it¡¯ll all be for nothing.¡¯ ¡°At this rate, if we don¡¯t break the fully-formed blockade, we won¡¯t get off the moon either. They won¡¯t let the Harmony through again, if they¡¯ve let the ship go at all.¡± ¡®Then be quick, get the weapon, and get out and help.¡¯ When the last of the bluecoats made it to the top of the stairs, Vayra broke cover and chased them up. She emerged from a hole in the deck right only a few paces from the quarterdeck stairs. Being a first-rate ship, the Cardinal Arrant had a quarterdeck, and behind it, an afterdeck. The great cabin¡ªwhere Karmion had to be keeping the weapon¡ªwas beneath the afterdeck. She darted up the stairs, then ducked behind the wheel hub. On a ship this large, it needed three or four coxswains to spin it. But, holding formation in a blockade, they could afford to stand around lazily and stare up at the sky. Massive arcane technique flashed out in the sky, though Vayra couldn¡¯t see who launched them. The gods and Ko-Ganall were still much too far away for that. The Ko-Ganall orbited the Shattered Moon¡¯s parent planet like a wisp of pink silk. Some broke off and smashed through the gas giant¡¯s orange clouds, but they couldn¡¯t do any harm to such a large world. Eventually, they would break off and attack the Shattered Moon, but the Gods were keeping them in line. A moonlight technique raced off down a beast¡¯s body, severing it in half and spattering asteroid-sized globs of blood into orbit as well. ¡®We don¡¯t have much time at this rate. Get inside the great cabin and free Nathariel, then get the weapon.¡¯ When the coxswains turned to face the other direction, Vayra jumped out from behind the wheel hub, then darted over to the great cabin. She pulled one of its doors open a crack, just enough to slip inside. Two bluecoats stood inside the door, muskets cocked and pointed at Nathariel, but she flung them into the side wall with a single impact-rune enhanced Starlight Palm. They collapsed and didn¡¯t stand up. The interior of the great cabin was dark. Curtains hung over the windows, and the shadow of a false, twisted Namola tree, forced to grow from the deck of the ship, but leafless and withered, stood along the far end of the cabin. Glass tubes fed elixirs into its trunk, and its branches had been twisted¡ªblood-manipulated¡ªout of shape to hold up a ragged man by his wrists. Nathariel. He barely gave off any spiritual radiation, and she would¡¯ve mistook him for someone like Glade, with a weak spirit, had she not known better. ¡°Nathariel,¡± she whispered, running across the room. ¡°I¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°Guard,¡± he groaned. ¡°Ward your head. Now.¡± Vayra did as she was told¡ªjust in time for a dull impact to strike the back of her head. It didn¡¯t do any damage, but she staggered forward a few paces. An Admiral-stage god-heir, dressed in Karmion¡¯s children¡¯s usual attire, strode forward, holding a whip of water in his hand. ¡°An intruder,¡± he said. He emerged from the shadows behind the false Namola, striding slowly but confidently. Vayra could fight an Admiral, and she could probably win, but she didn¡¯t have time. Better to do it with friends. She snatched up a nearby pail of Stream water and splashed it on Nathariel, then Moulded her scythe and slashed through the branches holding his arms. They resisted her, fighting back harder than anything ever had before, but, with a shout of exertion, she cut through. It wasn¡¯t a real Namola. Nathariel landed in a crouch, then rose up to his full height, and his spirit exerted a pressure once more. His arm snapped out, and he caught the Admiral by the throat. The man¡¯s hat tumbled off, and a Ward of water sprang up around his neck. Veins of orange flame lit up beneath Nathariel¡¯s skin, then wisps emerged overtop his hand. Surely, being the same stage, their techniques would cancel out. But, when she scanned his spirit, she noticed the same shroud around his core, leaking out a greater power from an orb below. With a deep yell, he tightened his grip, smashing through the Admiral¡¯s Ward and crushing the man¡¯s neck in a single movement. Head completely severed, the Admiral collapsed. ¡°...Sir?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I don¡¯t have long.¡± Nathariel shook his head. ¡°I sense them now, the Ko-Ganall.¡± ¡°What do you mean, you don¡¯t have long?¡± She scowled and put her hands on her hips. ¡°I need answers, Nathariel.¡± ¡°I figured you might¡­have found some truths out while I was gone. I see you have advanced to Admiral.¡± ¡°I know you¡¯re older than you say, and I can see you¡¯re probably stronger than you say, but¡­¡± ¡°Long ago, I learned to wield flame from the Dragon Gods,¡± he said. ¡°I am¡­about twice as old as you think, though perhaps a little older. They taught me everything, and I was one of the first men to control flame with my Arcara.¡± He shook off his hand, then brushed the tattered remains of his sash off his shoulder. ¡°Naturally, and as ambitious as I was, I developed an authority over it. I became the one and only God of Fire.¡± He snorted. ¡°My real name is not Nathariel, though it has been so long, I barely remember, and I was never pleased by it.¡± The veil on his core trembled. More cracks formed along its every surface, like a marble about to shatter. Then, in an instant, it dissolved, setting his core free. A blazing orb of orange light burned in his gut, bright as a sun in Vayra¡¯s spiritual vision and painful to sense in the middle of a spiritual scan. ¡°It seems the galaxy will let me hide no longer. I am Lyze.¡± [Announcement] Book 2 is now on Amazon! Hey everyone! If you''re interested, book two of this series is now available on Amazon. No need to feel pressured to check it out, but just thought I''d let you know. However, if you''re enjoying the series and want to help out, a rating or review is always appreciated. Book 2 received extensive edits, and I added a few scenes that I hope will aid the story greatly!
Links: Book one:
Book two: Also, if you''re interested, please consider checking out my other stories on the site: Embercore (a cultivation-lite story like this with psychic abilities): https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/81192/embercore-cultivation-psychic-magic-underdog Hyperspace Hunter (a space fantasy litrpg with hyperspace magic): https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/91190/hyperspace-hunter-isekai-litrpg-deckbuilding-scifi https://discord.gg/kp3Wt5CmmE Thanks for reading, everyone! Chapter 56: Providence [Volume 4] ¡°H¡ªhow?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°How did you stay hidden from the other gods?¡± ¡°In truth?¡± Nathariel¡ªor Lyze¡ªshook his head. When his hair stopped whipping in front of his face, his eyes now glowed brighter, and the irises guttered like a candle flame. ¡°By staying away from them. There is a reason I spent much of my life on Muspellar.¡± ¡°But¡­why? You were a god!¡± ¡°I was tired, Vayra, so tired. I wanted a simple, lowly life, where I could live out my days without jockeying for mortal prayers or debating with the pantheon over whose follower sects deserved what planets for our sanctuaries¡ªwhat planets the Mediator allowed us to have.¡± He breathed a sigh. ¡°And now I¡¯m free.¡± ¡°Nath¡ªLyze,¡± Vayra said, ¡°we need help. They¡¯re going to destroy us.¡± ¡°Please, I prefer Nathariel.¡± He grimaced. ¡°I have had my fill of calm, I think, and much more peace than I deserve. It¡¯s true that I spent my youth advancing at whatever cost, even at the cost of other people and innocent mortals. I will fight, and I will die.¡± Vayra blinked. ¡°But¡­you¡¯re a god!¡± ¡°I made a deal with Farrir. In exchange for a century¡¯s worth of dragonfire in his forges, he¡¯d smith me the finest core-shroud possible¡ªa soul-mail hauberk to hide even the strongest God-heir from prying eyes. It made me appear first as an initiate, and when I appeared out of nowhere in the Hayden family, they believed the tale that I was a long lost relative. See, first I figured I¡¯d lead a lowly sect, and that was it, but I realized even then that was too much.¡± He snorted. ¡°But you were an Admiral when I found you.¡± ¡°I could release the shroud only up to the Admiral stage,¡± Nathariel said. ¡°Beyond that, if I released the shroud, it would kill me. I am on a timer, and I will only hold together for so long.¡± ¡°And¡­you released the shroud?¡± ¡°Aye, I did.¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Vayra whispered. ¡°The gods will let this moon die before long.¡± ¡°King Tallerion is sending a fleet to help us evacuate.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not here yet.¡± Vayra shut her eyes. ¡°No, he¡¯s not.¡± ¡°You still have a god to kill. Find the weapon, then get out of here. Get back to the arena.¡± ¡°Nathariel.¡± She paused. ¡°I spoke to Farrir. He agreed to make the weapon suit me, and to repair the hasty forging Karmion did. But he needs some of your fire to do it.¡± ¡°Of course he does,¡± Nathariel grumbled. ¡°He burnt through what I gave him in a matter of years, forging great weapons, of course, but it couldn¡¯t compare.¡± He marched across the cabin to a table. There were jars, elixir vials, silver tongs and chisels and hammers¡ªall tools for forging a weapon. He held out one of the largest jars, one a half-foot wide and tall, and placed his hand over the opening. Flame and Arcara spewed from the palm of his hand and swirled into the jar, filling it like some sort of precious, neon orange ale. It grew more solid, more physical than regular flame, and its blaze was more like waves on the sea than the crackling of fire. When the flames reach the top of the jar, he snatched up a silver lid from the table and screwed it on. Only a few wisps of orange light seeped out. He passed it to Vayra, and she readily took it. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. In her arms, it nearly pulled her to the floor¡ªshe hadn¡¯t expected it to be so heavy, both physically and spiritually. ¡°Phason¨¦, can you hold this?¡± Vayra drew the jar inside her corespace, and though it weighed her down spiritually, at least it wasn¡¯t in the way. ¡®I¡¯ll keep it safe,¡¯ the goddess confirmed. Vayra turned back to Nathariel. ¡°Could you fight Karmion? After releasing your shroud, could you do it? You have the strength of dragons, and¡­¡± ¡°I would not win.¡± He knelt down and gripped her shoulders. ¡°Vayra, he has the love of the mortals. Those nearest to him provide him the greatest strength, and he knows it. With their wills and love behind him, he will draw on them. They have made him a symbol, and they worship him¡ªand he receives power from it as an Emissary.¡± ¡°So I take him away from here, and¡ª¡± ¡°Do you want to fight him on even ground, or with an advantage? No, keep him here, and use that against him. Your Mediator Form can achieve the same thing, as advanced as you are. Turn the mortals of the Shattered Moon to your favour, and you will match him¡ªif not be a step above.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Vayra nodded, then leaned forward and hugged Nathariel. ¡°Thank you. I¡­no. Just thank you. And goodbye.¡± ¡°Goodbye, Vayra. Tell Glade that I¡¯m proud of him, and I hope you know I feel the same about you. I have never felt more alive than the days I spent teaching you two.¡± Nathariel encased himself in a sphere of flame, and Vayra leapt back. It scorched the deck and seared her eyes, and she had to look away. He sprinted to the back of the room and smashed through the stern windows, then blazed up into the sky, arcing away from the surface and approaching the other gods. All around the Shattered Moon, people felt the presence of a fourth God completely unveil itself, but the Pantheon felt it most of all. Hovering in the orbit of the Shattered Moon¡¯s parent gas giant, holding back the void with his miniscule authority over wind, Vallor turned to Brann?l and Bharrelion. They panted, catching their breath from their latest exchange with a Ko-Ganall that broke off and made for the Shattered Moon¡ªnow, a spatter of blood, bones, and tentacles, all searing toward the moon¡¯s surface in baskets of flame. ¡°Did you feel that?¡± Vallor asked. ¡°Look,¡± said Bharrelion, pointing her moon-dust-encased arm down toward the Shattered Moon. A speck of glowing orange flame raced toward them. ¡°Lyze,¡± breathed Brann?l. ¡°It¡¯s him. I sense his spirit at last.¡± ¡°Is he coming to fight us?¡± Vallor whispered. One day, Lyze had grown a love for mortals, and the tactics of the Pantheon hadn¡¯t sat well with him after that. Or so the story went. ¡°He¡¯s defending the moon,¡± said Bharrelion. ¡°For the moment, we are allies.¡± In a flash, Lyze streamed past the other hovering gods and punched the nearest Ko-Ganall in the forehead, popping one of its eyes and shattering its skull. A burst of flame spewed out in all directions, lighting the sky for stellar miles in all directions. ¡°We can¡¯t have him upstage us, then,¡± said Vallor. ¡°With me!¡± Vayra darted around the Cardinal Arrant¡¯s great cabin, tugging open drawers and pushing over cabinets. The weapon had to be here somewhere. When she used her spiritual senses and concentrated on her surroundings deeply, a great well of darkness weighed on her mind¡ªlike the aura that had emanated from Myrrir¡¯s old shadowthorn. It was here, but she couldn¡¯t pinpoint where. The aura was too overwhelming, too strong, to say exactly where it came from. Especially when she¡¯d only been able to use her spiritual senses for a few weeks. ¡°Nathariel¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°Couldn¡¯t have stayed and told me where the weapon was?¡± She dropped down on her stomach and pushed the corpse of the Admiral guard away. ¡°If you even knew¡­¡± ¡®It¡¯s possible he didn¡¯t. He had no mana until you entered, and he didn¡¯t look in the best condition. Probably was in and out of consciousness.¡¯ ¡°And he¡¯s capable of fighting Ko-Ganall?¡± ¡®Mana does wonders for one¡¯s will to live. Also for one¡¯s regenerative abilities.¡¯ ¡°Fair. But he¡¯s nowhere as near as capable as regenerating as we are, is he?¡± ¡®I imagine he has effective regenerative abilities, still.¡¯ ¡°Better than yours?¡± ¡®Guaranteed. I had very few followers, and comparatively, I had only been an Emissary for a short period of time.¡¯ Vayra was about to move to the next drawer and push it over, but a glint of something wet, sickly, and black caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She stepped back. It came from the Namola tree. It could have been some unnatural diseased sap leaking out from the intertwined stalks of its trunk, but it was too flat. She ran back to the tree, nearly tripping over one of the elixir tubes, then ducked around back to its front. Nestled into the branches was a curved blade of black, watery slime in solid form. It was slippery, almost like glass but if that glass had a slimy coating, and any depth or detail seemed painted onto the fabric of the world itself with watercolour. She blinked long and hard. It was almost impossible to look at for long, and now that she was aware of it, it weighed down on her with spiritual weight. Not as strong as the Vale Core, but its form and materials were what they needed. She Moulded her scythe and drew it back, ready to slash through the branches of the tree and reveal what lay below, when her spirit cried out in warning, begging her to turn around. Instincts. Instead, she ducked, dropping to her stomach. A bolt of surging, ripping water blasted through the front wall of the great cabin, smashing glass and shattering the thin wood. It raced just over her head and struck the Namola tree¡¯s trunk, tearing its bark off and shattering a set of tubes. The weight of a God descended behind her. She sprang upright and whipped around to face the threat, activating her internal Wards to protect herself from any blood manipulation. Another blast of water surged through the three-foot wide hole in the wall, then arced around from the side. She pushed an external Ward over her shoulder as well, but the water struck with such concentrated force that it flung her off her feet. One moment, she was standing, and the next, she lay against the side wall of the cabin atop a splintered wooden table. She rolled to the side, avoiding another lash, then hopped back to her feet¡ªand just in time for the front wall of the cabin to burst apart. The entire wall shattered into splinters and shards of glass, and a torrent swept in, washing her to the back of the cabin. The waves receded to the sides of the room, held in place by an enormous Reach technique, and a silhouette marched in. ¡°What providence,¡± said Karmion, spreading his arms. He pulled his hat off his head, revealing a mane of watery hair that used to be the plume¡ªit clung overtop his normal hair, like an ancient centurion¡¯s helmet ornament. ¡°If only Nathariel had waited lingered a little longer, then I could have made him watch his disciple¡¯s ultimate defeat. But I will settle when the opportunity arises.¡± Chapter 57: Sealed Fate [Volume 4] Vayra¡¯s scythe still remained. She staggered back up to her feet and whirled it into position. ¡°Very nice,¡± Karmion said, then clicked his tongue. ¡°A relic from Talock. But I have a better one.¡± He reached out and, manipulating the water inside the Namola tree¡¯s trunk, peeled apart the branches to reveal the weapon. It flew to his hand as if drawn by a magnet. ¡°Were you looking for this?¡± He held out his weapon. It was a crude scythe, all black from its curved blade to its counterweight, and it was about the same size. ¡°The shape was an accident; I am no smith. But it¡¯ll do its job.¡± It was now or never. She was close, and this wasn¡¯t ideal, but she had to try. He¡¯d forced her hand. Shouting, Vayra ducked under a blast of water, then jumped to the side. Karmion unleashed a fast jab to the side with his scythe, almost catching her in the chest with the tip of the scythe. ¡°I trained with a spear for a hundred years,¡± Karmion stated. ¡°It¡¯s far from the same, I know, but it¡¯s enough.¡± He whirled around and unleashed another jab. She bent backward to dodge it, but he twisted the scythe, bending its blade down and leaving a light cut along her side. The blade was ice-cold, and it stung more than it should¡¯ve. For a moment, Phason¨¦¡¯s presence, previously calming, turned sour and weak¡ªalmost nonexistent. When Vayra rolled back, moving further away from the scythe, the Goddess¡¯ presence returned. ¡°What was that?¡± Vayra whispered. ¡®Kalawen¡¯s magic,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said quickly. ¡®She did something to the blade. It¡¯s not just a powerful shadowthorn. It¡¯s a soul-severing weapon.¡¯ Vayra swallowed. She stood up to her full height, but Karmion still towered over her. The false Namola tree was right behind her, blocking her retreat. ¡°Karmion!¡± she shouted. ¡°I am an Admiral, and just an Admiral! I am beneath a god! Your honour¡ª¡± ¡°Here?¡± Karmion snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t be na?ve. You¡¯re out of the tournament, no one will lament your loss, and this moon will die in a matter of hours.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Besides, you put yourself in the perfect position for my primary plan. Thank you for making this easy.¡± A bolt of water surged forward. Karmion pointed his hand outward, mustering water from the edge of the room and guiding it out in a straight jet. She raised her arm, ready to slash through it with her scythe, but her arm wouldn¡¯t move. Her eyes widened, and she Warded her stomach just in time. The jet of water was strong enough to shatter a ship¡¯s hull; it would hurt her just as well. But that hadn¡¯t been blood magic. It was her mechanical arm which held the scythe. She flicked her eyes up. A branch of the Namola tree had reached out and wrapped around her wrist. She reached for her pistol and drew it, but before she could fire, Karmion launched three more bolts of water from the side of the room at her, all from different directions. They took all her attention to shield, and the impacts still jostled her. When the water faded, the pistol was no longer in her hand. She switched to a standard Starlight Palm, but Karmion dispersed it. Before she could generate another, a second branch of the Namola tree reached out and pulled her flesh-and-blood arm to the side. That, she did feel. At Karmion¡¯s command, the tree hoisted her up off the deck. She flailed her legs and swung her body, dodging incoming branches and twigs. It didn¡¯t work. Two more caught her legs and held her in place, then pulled tight until it felt like her limbs would pop out of their sockets. She grunted and hissed, trying to pull away, but the branches wouldn¡¯t yield¡ªeven when Karmion stopped manipulating their innards. Terror flooded her heart. She breathed faster than ever, and her heart thudded abnormally fast. ¡°You know, you had me worried for a second,¡± Karmion said, marching closer. ¡°But alas, you¡¯re just a little girl.¡± He flicked the bottom of her chin. ¡°Don¡¯t look so sad. This is the natural way of things. The strongest become gods, and they should dominate. They should be loved by the less knowing and less fortunate.¡± He shifted his grip up on the scythe. ¡°All I want is to be loved. The mortals don¡¯t know any better than to not love me.¡± ¡®Vayra, do something!¡¯ Phason¨¦ screamed. Vayra was trying. She pulled with her mechanical arm as hard as she could, until a rope tendon snapped and a starsteel wire twanged out of place¡ªand to no avail. She activated the disruption runestone, but there was no magic in the branch anymore. Nothing for her to interfere with. Karmion marched around behind her, ducking under a branch. ¡°And now, the Mediator will disappear for another lifetime. Oh, but it won¡¯t be a mortal lifetime, since you¡¯ve done a good job reaching Admiral. Five hundred years, at least, though it could be twice that. By the time another Mediator rolls around, I will be too strong to contest.¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®Vayra, I don¡¯t want to¡ª¡¯ ¡°Just hold¡ª¡± Karmion gripped Vayra¡¯s hair and pulled up, exposing the back of her neck and the base of her skull. ¡®Vayr¡ª¡¯ Before Phason¨¦ could finish, Karmion raised his scythe and left a tiny, papercut-thin slash at the top of Vayra¡¯s neck. Phason¨¦¡¯s voice went silent immediately, and the glowing white scythe disappeared from Vayra¡¯s hand. Gone in a flash, but Vayra hadn¡¯t willed it away. Her stomach plummeted. With a soft exhale, Karmion tossed his black scythe down on the floor below her feet, dropping it like dirty clothes. By now, a troop of bluecoats had gathered in front of the hole in the wall, and were watching. A few pointed their muskets at her, but Karmion waved his hand dismissively. ¡°She gained all her power from her bond. Keep the scythe close by, and she¡¯s nothing. Her soul has no more pushing power, no more goddess enhancements, nothing. Certainly no Mediator Form.¡± Vayra gasped, and once more tried to pull her arms free. Nothing. The bark scraped at her real wrist, rubbing the flesh raw. She launched a Starlight Palm outward into the wall¡ªit still worked, though it was markedly weaker than before, even with the impact runestone. ¡°Yes, yes, keep draining yourself. Wonderful.¡± Karmion shook his head, then motioned slowly back toward the stern of the ship. The branches of the Namola tree obeyed, pulling her until her back pressed against the tree-trunk. More branches encased her until she could barely breathe. ¡°I don¡¯t need you for anything, except to stay alive and stay useless. Please, kindly, hold still.¡± ¡°Or what?¡± Vayra spat. ¡°You¡¯ll kill me? You can¡¯t.¡± Karmion grunted and wheeled around, then in a burst of speed, punched her in the gut. She gasped and choked, and the impact shattered a few of her ribs. In defiance, she spat on his boot. ¡°You don¡¯t care about them.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t care?¡± ¡°About the mortals. You¡¯re not protecting them. You¡¯re making them afraid, you¡¯re lording over them. You¡¯re just a petty despot who thinks he¡¯s a king.¡± Karmion scoffed. ¡°I¡¯ve never once called myself a king. A king doesn¡¯t earn his place; he¡¯s given it. And look what the kings do with it? Tallerion left you to lose. Me? I took my place with my own strength, crawling up a mountain of bodies.¡± ¡°A mountain you created.¡± ¡°And so what if I did?¡± Karmion shouted. ¡°They¡¯re mortals! They¡¯re lesser, by blood¡ªinherently.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t earn your powers, either,¡± Vayra said. ¡°And those were what let you rise. You had the luck of the draw, a direct descendant of the Streamfather himself. You¡¯re exactly like the kings you despise. Problem is, the king I¡¯m allied with is trying to make something of his power. He¡¯s coming to help.¡± Karmion shouted and clenched his fist. A branch sprang up from behind Vayra and speared through her gut¡ªtoo fast to block. She gasped and choked, then shrieked and screamed as the branch rescinded. ¡°Heal yourself,¡± Karmion demanded. He flicked his sleeves out and spun around, then marched back to the open wall. The water he¡¯d summoned in followed him out and washed over the deck and poured out the railings. In smug defiance, Vayra almost didn¡¯t want to, but she couldn¡¯t just let herself die. This wasn¡¯t over yet. She spat blood out her mouth, then pushed Arcara down to her gut, instructing her enhanced body to repair. Even without Phason¨¦, she had her channels¡ªthat wasn¡¯t gone. She still had her own soul, her own core. She just didn¡¯t have a voice in her head, whatever Karmion thought it¡¯d do. And the moment she got away from this weapon, Phason¨¦ could come back. It wasn¡¯t permanent at all. ¡°That¡¯s a good girl,¡± Karmion chided. ¡°Now, I have a tournament to overseer. Don¡¯t think about trying anything¡ªI¡¯ve got more Admirals coming to keep you here. Now that I have what I want, I¡¯ll make sure we leave before my Ko-Ganall arrive. I might even send up more gods to deal with it here and now¡­but I doubt it matters much.¡± Vayra hung her head in mock-defeat. ¡°Your people?¡± ¡°Plenty more where that comes from. You¡¯ll see.¡± He brushed his hands together like he was cleaning off the dust, then said, ¡°Came here for my weapon, but that¡¯s all become superfluous. Really, you made this easy.¡± But none so close, for him to draw power from immediately. If she was Karmion, she¡¯d have left immediately. And Vayra still had a few tricks left. As soon as he leapt up and mustered his cloud of mist beneath him, the bluecoats marched toward her and surrounded her. A mortal officer in a brown coat shouted a command, and they all halted, then cocked their muskets. All she had left was Adair, who squirmed around in her corespace. She sensed the room within. It had vastly constricted without Phason¨¦, now only about a few paces across. But if she summoned him out right away, the bluecoats would see. She needed a distraction. And preferably before Karmion¡¯s Admirals arrived to interrupt her. She fuelled her disruption rune. It pulsed, but did nothing to the branches. But when she¡¯d struggled against the branches, the runestones had come loose. It just needed a few more nudges. She kept fuelling and unfuelling it, stressing the starsteel wires. They heated up and glowed red-hot, and finally, the runestone slipped out of its nest. It clacked onto the ground. ¡°Check it!¡± the officer yelled. A pair of bluecoats rushed closer and bent down near her hand. The moment they crouched, she summoned Adair into the palm of her mechanical hand. The young cat was furious and terrified, hissing and screeching, with his claws unsheathed and fangs glistening. He leapt at the nearest target¡ªa bluecoat. The man yelped and leapt back. ¡°What is it?¡± the officer shouted. As soon as he ran past, Vayra swung her head out and Warded her forehead, cracking the guard across the skull. He crumpled. She fired out a Starlight Palm from her flesh hand, catching two bluecoats and flinging them into the wall, but there were at least ten present. They sprinted forward and pressed their bayonets up against her neck. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± one ordered. ¡°And call your beast off,¡± another demanded. Vayra grinned. ¡°It¡¯s not me you have to worry about.¡± A spear of gunpowder blasted through the nearest bluecoat¡¯s head. Chapter 58: Considerations [Volume 4] Myrrir considered giving up. He couldn¡¯t deny it. When he saw Vayra¡¯s predicament, he realized how easy it would be to step in, slay the bluecoats, then claim he¡¯d stalled her escape and done a great service to Karmion. But he stuffed the thought down and whispered, ¡°Sorry, Tye.¡± He swung his legs over the quarterdeck railing and stepped out into the center of the deck, standing behind the bluecoats, and unleashed Reach technique after Reach technique until all the soldiers lay dead on the ground. More stood on the deck, and the entire ship rose up in arms and panic as crewmen pointed and shouted at him. But he was more worried about Karmion¡¯s God-heir backup, and he didn¡¯t have time to play with mortal crewmen. He sprinted into the great cabin and skittered to a halt before the Namola tree. ¡°Are you alright, Vayra?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°But I need to get out. Can you cut me free?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± He whirled his sword and Warded its cutting edge, then Braced his arms and struck the branch just above her mechanical hand. The wood shattered, and her arm peeled free. At first, he hadn¡¯t been sure if he could cut it, but she¡¯d gotten Nathariel free somehow, even if he hadn¡¯t seen that much. It wasn¡¯t a true Namola tree, and they were Admirals. As a cage, with one''s limbs restrained, it worked, but not when two Admirals could direct techniques straight into it. While he chopped her legs free, she blasted her other arm out with a set of starlight pulses. With her limbs free, she peeled herself out of the tree and stepped toward Myrrir. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°There¡¯s trouble coming,¡± Myrrir said. A troop of bluecoats ran up the quarterdeck stairs and pointed their muskets, and the first couple got a shot off before Myrrir stopped them¡ªhe raised his hand. Vayra launched a Starlight Palm at the bluecoats. It washed across the quarterdeck, shattering the wheel hub, and flung a swath of them back down to the main deck. But it didn¡¯t hit nearly as hard as it had before. ¡°Did you¡­make it weaker on purpose?¡± Myrrir asked. ¡°It¡¯s the weapon.¡± Vayra bent down and snatched up the black scythe. ¡°He damaged my connection to Phason¨¦. I can¡¯t hear her, and¡­I¡¯m used to having her around. Her presence was what helped me rise, and without her, I won¡¯t be as strong. Unless I get far away from the scythe, but even then, he left a cut on the back of my neck.¡± She reached up and rubbed the back of her head. ¡°It severed something spiritually, too.¡± ¡°So you can¡¯t use it.¡± Myrrir cursed under his breath. This infiltration had all been for nothing. ¡°Not necessarily,¡± said Vayra. ¡°I need to bring it to Farrir. I have Nathariel¡¯s fire. I have everything we need.¡± She ducked around the shattered remains of a table, avoiding a barrage of musketfire. Myrrir launched three tendrils of gunpowder out, skewering the nearest bluecoats. He targeted the powder cartridges in their haversacks and ripped the little paper bags apart, then drew out the gunpowder for his own use. ¡°What were you doing?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°Thought you¡¯d never ask.¡± Myrrir reached into his pocket and pulled out the upper cylinder device he¡¯d stolen from Altrous¡¯ tower. ¡°This.¡± The bottom runes glowed, but the upper runes, around the projecting ring, didn¡¯t. ¡°I captured your conversation with Karmion,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°The moment I have a direct line of sight with Altrous¡¯ tower, I¡¯ll activate the runes. They¡¯ll be fresher and stronger, and they should take precedence over his current projecting apparatus.¡± Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°And nearly everyone on the Shattered Moon will see what Karmion really thinks about them.¡± ¡°Exactly. You did wonderful, by the way. Did you know I was recording?¡± ¡°...No? I just said what I believed.¡± She rubbed her gut. ¡°It tends to hurt.¡± But, despite her torn robes, the flesh beneath was already healing¡ªvisibly. Myrrir winced. ¡°Right. Sorry. Being good takes practice.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°We need to get out of here. I¡¯ll take this to Farrir¡¯s tower, and you show the arena the projection.¡± ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡± His senses provided a faint but distant warning. ¡°The Admirals are coming, and fast. They¡¯ve probably sensed what¡¯s happening.¡± Vayra activated her full-body Bracing technique, and white flame erupted across her body. ¡°This one had nothing to do with Phason¨¦. It should work perfectly fine.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Don¡¯t get caught. They¡¯re after you.¡± He withdrew the Vale Core from his Corespace and handed it to her. She took the core with a bow of her head and a grunt of exertion, then said, ¡°After this moment, they¡¯ll know you¡¯re with me as well. Be careful.¡± Glade and Varion exchanged cautious blows in the center of the arena. Neither landed a hit. Varion punched, and Glade slapped his jabs away with the side of his sword. Glade made noncommittal swings. His blade brushed past the tip of the man¡¯s nose. It was just the first round, and neither wanted the disadvantage or anxiety of being on the back foot. But tactics like that inevitably put Glade at a disadvantage. He couldn¡¯t win a drawn out fight, no matter how few techniques he was using. He was still running a line of Arcara along the cutting edge of his blade, still fuelling his enhanced body with mana, and all of it drained him. The swordwyrm could only help take so much pressure off. When his mana dipped below two thirds, he went on the offensive. He jabbed and lunged while the swordwyrm attacked Varion from behind. With a one-handed grip, he attacked from high angles, and drew on Varion¡¯s concentration with a whip of metal filings and shards. It kept him busy with Wards. Despite the constant pressure, Varion still drew water out from the orb and splashed it into the ground, then turned it to ice shards wherever Glade was standing. If Glade didn¡¯t constantly move and dodge, he¡¯d get a three-inch wide spear of ice through his gut. Varion blocked swipes with his wrists. He conjured gloves of ice shards around his hands. It wasn¡¯t a Brace or a Ward, and the mixture of Arcara in the ice indicated that it was a very temporary Mould. It wouldn¡¯t last long against Glade¡¯s sword, but it deflected well enough. Glade drove Varion back across the arena until the God-heir¡¯s heels hung over the edge of the arena and the moat. One more good lunge, and he¡¯d push Varion over. But Varion smirked, and Glade hesitated. If he hadn¡¯t, a shard of ice would¡¯ve impaled his eye. Varion raised a hand, and a coil of water rose from the moat, moving much too quickly for an Admiral. A wall of water rose behind him, climbing out from the moat. It split into individual droplets, then hardened into ice shards. Glade leapt back, whirling his sword in a defensive pattern and deflecting a constant barrage of ice shards. They flew fast, almost too fast, and the Arcara guiding them, controlling the Reach technique, felt purer than Glade¡¯s. It didn¡¯t want to break when he struck it, even though he was closer, using a more condensed technique of his own. A shard ripped through his shoulder and slashed his cheek, and another sliced his flank. He hissed and clenched his jaw. When the barrage ended, he¡¯d retreated back to the center of the arena, with only a third of his mana left. Varion marched out to meet Glade again. He unbuckled the clasp of his fur cloak and let it slide off his shoulders. The white frosty spikes didn¡¯t retreat with the coat. They passed through it, held in place by the new strength of Varion¡¯s spirit. ¡°Too slow,¡± Varion said. ¡°You didn¡¯t advance in time.¡± Glade swallowed, then scanned his opponent¡¯s spirit. The frost spikes were the remains of a bonded spirit beast. Varion was a Grand Admiral. By the time Vayra made it to the arena, she¡¯d picked up a trail of three god-heirs. They followed behind her, launching blasts of water or lashing out with long tendrils, trying to catch her and drag her down. On the flat, open roads, she gained ground, using the Astral Shroud for speed. When she reached the outer ring of the arena, she lost ground as she scaled the outside wall. She had to jump between the roofs and awnings of the ramshackle heaps of buildings outside the arena, where the God-heirs hovered up on clouds of mist. But they were only basic ocean-Path Admirals, and while they would¡¯ve kept her in check in the tree, they couldn¡¯t compare to Larra or Varion in any way. Silently, she thanked Myrrir for throwing a wrench in all of Karmion¡¯s plans. But now, only she could finish the job. When she reached the upper ridge of the arena, she circled around, sprinting toward Farrir¡¯s tower. Where she¡¯d ascended to the upper ring, it was only a quarter of a circle away. But if she didn¡¯t go fast, she¡¯d have bigger problems than three Admirals. Karmion hovered above the arena, and he¡¯d notice her soon¡ªscratch that, he already had, and he was descending now. Behind him, in the sky, enormous techniques flashed out, dissuading or distracting any Ko-Ganall that made for the Moon, but the battle was drifting closer. Shards of enormous bone burned up in the atmosphere, and chunks of the Ko-Ganalls¡¯ bodies spattered against the outer crust of the Moon. When Vayra passed by Brann?l¡¯s empty tower, she finally looked down into the arena, and her heart nearly stopped. Glade fought Varion, but even without an axe, he was strong. Subconsciously, she scanned his spirit. He¡¯d reached Grand Admiral. ¡°Come on, Glade,¡± she whispered. ¡°Advance now, or never.¡± But he didn¡¯t. Varion beat him back. The God-heir bashed the sword out of Glade¡¯s hands with ice-shard-encased arms, then struck him in the gut with a fist. From there, the fight didn¡¯t last long. Varion threw Glade around the arena with brutish efficiency. Every time Glade tried to stand up and regain his footing, Varion was there¡ªin the perfect place to counter him. Stronger, faster, with more powerful techniques. When Glade surrendered, the crowd fell silent. Glade had come back from a loss in the first round before, but this time, he was facing an opponent a stage higher than him, with centuries more experience. He had to advance. He had to. But from the top of the arena, Vayra couldn¡¯t affect the outcome of the fight. She needed to repair the weapon and reconnect with Phason¨¦, and fast. Chapter 59: The Forge [Volume 4] Water-based techniques crashed into the stone all around Vayra as she approached Farrir¡¯s tower. She didn¡¯t trust her Wards to block them¡ªespecially the blasts Karmion launched¡ªwithout Phason¨¦¡¯s bond. Instead, she formed her cycling loop with Adair and passed Arcara back and forth between them. Whenever her senses alerted her to a dangerous attack incoming, she leveraged Adair¡¯s reaction speed and impulses for herself, dodging the attacks before they hit. The water chewed into the stone and blasted shards into the air, destroying the walkway behind her. The crowd all turned to face her, now that Glade¡¯s first round had concluded. The nearest audience members fled, escaping the rain of high-pressure water and stone. Ten steps to Farrir¡¯s tower. Its doors were wide open. Karmion hovered above, and with an angered shout, he drove a blade of water down at her. She ducked to the side, and it only sliced off a lock of her hair. Five steps. She dove over a coursing blast of water, then ducked her head and rolled. One more leap, and she passed through the doorway. She tumbled across the ground, then sprang back to her feet, expecting to face another barrage of techniques, but nothing came. The doors of Farrir¡¯s tower slammed shut. Two Commodore guards pushed them closed. Water blasts pounded on the exterior, shaving off wood chips and making them rattle, but it held the techniques back. For now. ¡°That will not hold them for long,¡± came a voice from behind. Farrir sprinted into the foyer, his hammer in hand. ¡°You two,¡± he directed the Commodores, ¡°flee. Save yourselves.¡± He turned to Vayra. ¡°You have the weapon?¡± She raised the dark, slippery, crudely-forged scythe. ¡°Here.¡± ¡°With me, then.¡± Farrir turned and marched toward his tower¡¯s central stairway. ¡°Karmion will break through soon enough, but my forge has stronger defenses.¡± Vayra followed Farrir up the stairs, leaping up entire levels in a single stride¡ªand keeping pace. They didn¡¯t travel all the way to the top, but to a high-ceilinged room about halfway up the tower. It wasn¡¯t as wide as his main hall, and it had no windows. Vayra sprinted across the flagstone floors with Farrir until they reached a hearth on the opposite side. Chunks of obsidian ringed it, and a pale yellow grout of Moulded Arcara tied them together. Currently, nothing within burned, but a stack of purple logs occupied the center. They radiated spiritual energy, and their Arcara channels from whatever spirit-tree they¡¯d been cut from had carefully been sealed off, so the majority of their power would release when burnt. An enormous bellow waited on either side of the hearth, each with an Admiral to operate it. ¡°I can operate the bellows,¡± Farrir told the admirals. ¡°Escape while you can.¡± ¡°Respectfully, father,¡± they both said, ¡°we are with you to the end.¡± Vayra carefully stepped around a rune-engraved starsteel anvil, then handed the scythe to Farrir. ¡°Whatever he did to the scythe is currently amplifying the¡­wedge he drove between Phason¨¦ and I. When it¡¯s near me, I¡¯ll have problems.¡± ¡°Its purpose is to cut souls,¡± Farrir said. ¡°No matter what, you will find it unpleasant to use, but I can lessen its harmful effects. Do you have what I need?¡± She produced the Vale Core and the jug of Nathariel¡¯s fire and set them down on the anvil, then withdrew one last item from her corespace¡ªLarra¡¯s pendant. ¡°A powerful artifact from a powerful God-heir. Can you use it?¡± ¡°I can absorb its effects, yes,¡± said Farrir. ¡°I will imprint them onto the weapon.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. While I¡¯m repairing it, you have work to do.¡± He produced the Godscourge book from his corespace and handed it to her. ¡°Your task is twofold. Read me the bookmarked instructions as I forge¡ªI have never worked with such pure Shadowthorns before, but this book provides a passage from a different scroll from the Mascant archives, which outlines the process.¡± ¡°And¡­¡± ¡°I can change the weapon¡¯s purpose, make it less crude, less overbearing, and eagre to work with you, but you alone must repair your connection with Phason¨¦. He severed channels and damaged your soul, but¡­¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°How am I supposed to repair that in¡­what, a few hours?¡± ¡°I imagine we¡¯ll have about a half-hour before Karmion breaks in.¡± ¡°In a half-hour, then?¡± ¡°I sense something about you and Phason¨¦. There is a reason she didn¡¯t have any heirs or children, even when she had eighty years to do so, and I figure she¡¯s found a more permanent love.¡± Vayra sighed and blushed. ¡°Uh¡­yeah¡ª¡± ¡°It is not the time for embarrassment. Your connection to her is strong. Stronger than most Mediators will ever have. Use that to your advantage. Rejoin your channels, and by the time I have your weapon made, you will be back in working order¡ªat your peak functionality.¡± Vayra nodded. ¡°I understand.¡± ¡°Nilsenir!¡± Karmion bellowed. ¡°Kalawen! To me, the both of you!¡± Even if they didn¡¯t hear him with their physical ears, they¡¯d sense their names being called¡ªespecially when it was Karmion who called them. At first, there was no response, but that was expected. They¡¯d take their time. While he waited, he turned to the Admirals who had done a valiant job in chasing the Mediator and alerting him to her escape. But they hadn¡¯t been fast enough to slow or stop Myrrir, if they¡¯d sensed him at all. Least of all, the threat he posed. ¡°Go to the fleet,¡± he commanded. ¡°Send more ships from the blockade to wipe out what remains of the Velaydian fleet. No matter what, if they cannot leave the Shattered Moon, they will die.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± they said, bowing their heads in unison and adding some form of ¡°father¡± or ¡°grandfather¡± or ¡°ancestor¡± to their affirmation. Then, they activated their Bracing techniques and sprinted away. Karmion turned back toward the doors of Farrir¡¯s tower and delivered a strong open-palm strike. Regardless of whether the doors had a pane of Emissary-grade Arcara in them or not, the crossbeam wasn¡¯t as thick or durable, and after a few strikes, it shattered. The doors swung open, revealing a decorative foyer. Empty, but that was no matter. He could sense his targets high above, cowering in a protected room. They¡¯d trapped themselves. Vayra paced back and forth as Farrir darted between his anvil and the hearth, holding the scythe in one hand with a set of starsteel tongs, and in the other hand, holding his hammer. He pounded its hilt, reshaping the Moulded Arcara and condensed Shadowthorns, smoothing them out and blending the strands together. Any stray wisps of water-aspect burned out, turning to steam in her spiritual sight. Under the crucible of Nathariel¡¯s fire, the weapon turned more pure. The hearth blazed a brilliant orange-red, and the flame seemed almost liquid, tangible, like she could pour it from a spout. It was hot enough that, even standing halfway across the forge, she still registered the blaze on her phoenix skin. She held the Godscourge book open and read the passage Farrir had highlighted, providing instructions. They were from an ancient forging scroll, apparently from before even Farrir¡¯s time, and they detailed the use of shadowthorns in weapons, though half of it had so much jargon and precise terminology that, even as an Admiral, she couldn¡¯t understand what it was trying to say. But Farrir did. So she read the words, and instead, worked on her insides. She analyzed her own channels, pushing Arcara and mana through them to illuminate them. Her body was excellent for repairing damaged channels, but this was different. They¡¯d been cut altogether. It¡¯d take more concentrated effort, and she¡¯d have to realign them as best as she could. At least she¡¯d advanced her Arcara control and her ability to manipulate mana. If she could guide where it went, then she could move the channels. At the top of her neck, the channels were tiny filaments close to the surface of her skin, joining her soul to the rest of her system. There were hundreds of them all trying to connect, but they were frayed and severed. Completely sliced and disorderly, like a harpsichord whose strings had all been cut. First, she worked with one tendril, filing it with mana. When she willed the mana to move, so did the channel. Her neck heated up, and a spiritual sting lingered on the surface of her skin, but when she lined it up with its pair on the bottom, it rejoined and consumed the mana to seal itself back up¡ªher body¡¯s specialty. But a single strand had taken her minutes. In the meantime, Farrir had polished off more of the scythe¡¯s haft. He now held the Vale Core over the junction between the haft and blade, and slowly consumed it. Magenta light bled into the now-purposeful engravings on the haft, giving it the appearance of a leather binding. She needed to go faster. Next, she manipulated two strands at a time, and it wasn¡¯t too much strain. Now that she knew how it worked, she moved faster, but even two at a time wasn¡¯t enough. She went on to three at a time, then four, then five. When they sealed, she grabbed a clump of ten filaments and pushed them back into place. ¡®Vayra? Are you there? It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s really dark in here. I¡¯m drifting. I can¡¯t see anything.¡¯ Phason¨¦¡¯s voice rang out in Vayra¡¯s mind, confused and quiet¡ªmuch quieter than it¡¯d ever been¡ªand shaky. ¡°Just hold on,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯m working on it. You¡¯ll be alright. I¡¯ll put us back together soon.¡± ¡®Are you alright? It hurt so much, whatever happened to you.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± Vayra said. ¡°And in the process of repairing myself. You?¡± ¡®I¡¯m still alive. Bandaged myself up.¡¯ ¡°Good.¡± Vayra sucked in a deep breath. ¡°Phas, I¡¯m glad you''re still there. Just hold on. I¡¯m coming to help¡ªI promise.¡± Chapter 60: Void Scythe [Volume 4] Every time Farrir¡¯s hammer struck the scythe blade, excess Arcara flowed through the anvil¡¯s runes, then circled around and poured back into the blade from below. Where before, the blade had been a crude arc that looked like it was made of black water, it now had a solid form, like the night sky given shape. From the side, he smoothed the crude cutting edge down to a fine shape, and the Vale Core¡¯s power ran along the curve with magenta lightning. Finally, Farrir sank Larra¡¯s artifact into the scythe¡¯s blade at its very center. It dissolved into the weapon¡¯s form, leaving only a circle of nearly-invisible runes in the perfectly smooth side of the blade. The last of the Vale Core¡¯s energies poured into the rune circle, turning it a permanent shade of glowing purple. The entire weapon emitted a pressure similar to that of the Vale Core, and it weighed down on Vayra¡¯s shoulders and core just the same, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as harsh. Instead of an anvil hanging off her shoulders, it was a heavy hauberk of chainmail. With each strike of the hammer, the weapon¡¯s influence on Vayra¡¯s core faded. She hadn¡¯t understood before what he¡¯d meant when he said he¡¯d change the purpose, but now it was clear. Before, the scythe had been a hammer. It¡¯d repelled the channels where it¡¯d cut them, and it took effort from Vayra to pull the filaments back together, but now, though it still wanted the cut to her soul to linger, it wanted it to remain as a cut. That was easier to overwhelm. She bundled up the channels and pulled them back in place, then sealed them back together. ¡°Keep talking to me, Phas,¡± she said. ¡°I want to know if I¡¯ve done something wrong and your voice goes away.¡± ¡®Will do,¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®But what do you want to hear about?¡¯ ¡°Uh¡­had any pets?¡± ¡®I¡­did.¡¯ Phason¨¦ then rambled off a list of exotic animals that she¡¯d kept while growing up, and it worked well enough. As they worked, booms rattled out through the forge. Someone was pounding on the door with powerful techniques. Each impact made the gates rattle, and the crossbeam bent and splintered. Any moment, it¡¯d shatter, and the gods outside would leak in. By the time Phason¨¦ had finished the list of former pets, there were no more loose, severed Arcara channels at the base of Vayra¡¯s neck. No more. Vayra rubbed the back of her head and breathed a sigh, then said, ¡°I¡¯ve done it.¡± ¡®Done?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®It¡­feels normal. Can you hear me alright?¡¯ ¡°Loud and clear, glitter princess.¡± Farrir was almost done forging the weapon, too. He raised his hammer above his head, then brought it down with a heavy swing. A pulse of blue light blasted through it, resonated in the anvil, then surged back up into the scythe. Most stayed in, fading away into the form and leaving it with a black and magenta hue. The rest burned off in a pulse of pure Arcara, lighting the room and sending Vayra staggering back with its shockwave. ¡°It is complete,¡± said Farrir. He held it up with one hand and tossed it to her. ¡°Given the circumstances, it is as close to a masterpiece as you¡¯ll find, though if you don¡¯t advance to Grand Admiral, you will be like a child carrying a cannon.¡± A heavy strike rattled the doors, and a crack formed in the crossbeam. One more hit, and they¡¯d fly open. ¡°Be quick. The gods are almost through.¡± He tossed the scythe through the air, and she snatched it up with one hand. It was heavy, but not unbearably so. ¡®So, are we dual-wielding?¡¯ Phason¨¦ asked. ¡®We haven¡¯t trained for that at all, and they aren¡¯t exactly daggers or sabers¡­¡¯ ¡°I had an idea,¡± Vayra said. ¡°Are you holding your scythe?¡± ¡®I am.¡¯ ¡°Excellent.¡± Vayra adjusted her grip on the black scythe. No longer did it feel wet, but rather, like she was gripping ancient leather. It fit her hand, though it¡¯d take a little to get used to the feeling of a solid weapon in her grip. Then, when her hands were in the right position, she Moulded Phason¨¦¡¯s scythe overtop, forming a ghostly white outline around a core of darkness. Pinpricks of light shone all across the blade, and though it wasn¡¯t a rift in space like her scarf, it still looked like a starry sky. The pinnacle of her scything ability. She whirled it around, letting its weight help her spin it, and letting its counterbalance work with her. When she stopped, the swing ended in the exact perfect position she wanted it to. ¡°Thank you, Farrir,¡± she said. ¡°All I ask is that you show the galaxy my craftsmanship.¡± He hoisted his hammer up onto his shoulder. ¡°And that you defeat the gods before they hunt and kill me.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°You¡¯re not¡­trapped?¡± ¡°When they break in, I will run. I will go no further with you¡ªI want to live. I am a blacksmith, not a warrior.¡± She turned and faced the doors. ¡°Come on¡­she whispered. Advance, Vayra, advance!¡± At Grand Admiral, and with the Mediator Form, she¡¯d have to be equivalent to an Emissary. Or close. Nothing happened. The doors shook, and the crossbeam bent. Arcara-empowered water leaked through in jets, and with Phason¨¦ intact once more, Vayra created a Ward and blocked them. The pressure and force still sent her skidding back across the floor. There were three forms outside. Karmion, Nilsenir, and Kalawen. She was just an Admiral. Against the three of them? They¡¯d destroy her. Then the gods stopped. No more techniques blasted into the door. Vayra blinked, and then, in a flash, the gods took off. They raced to the side, through a hallway, then blasted out the side of the tower into the open air. When their presence faded, when Vayra wasn¡¯t at risk of an immediate trap outside, she ran forward and slipped out the door, turning sideways to fit through. She sprinted down the hallway, then to the hole in the wall. Glade and Varion had walked out from opposite sides of the arena, and stood at the center, not yet fighting each other. Their mid-fight break had only just ended. The hole in the wall faced directly out over the arena, though from such a height, she could see the entire ring before her. She was at eye-level with the sunlight projection. A chunk of the Moon¡¯s surface shifted in front of the sun, and the projection was bright and obvious as could be. It showed nothing of Glade or Varion. Instead, a shaky scene of golden light erupted over the arena, faintly outlining the Cardinal Arrant¡¯s great cabin, replaying Vayra¡¯s conversation with Karmion to the whole arena¡ªright down to her admission that she was only an Admiral, and damning Karmion for lowering himself to her level. ¡°Stop this!¡± Karmion bellowed, his voice ringing out across the entire arena. ¡°This is false!¡± As well as Vayra knew how difficult to falsify a projection like that would be, so did the audience. ¡°Altrous, halt the projection!¡± Karmion shouted halfway through. Kalawen attempted to conjure an illusion around it, and Nilsenir raised a veil of gunpowder around it. But there was enough lag on the projection, on Altrous¡¯ Reach technique, that even an immediate halt allowed Myrrir¡¯s recorded projection to play all the way through. Vayra leaned out the hole in the wall, gripping the jagged edges to stop herself from falling out, and stared at Altrous¡¯ tower. But his mechanism for projecting the light didn¡¯t form a direct line from the tower. Instead, sunlight poured out from the arena¡¯s upper ring, where Myrrir stood. He¡¯d hijacked Altrous¡¯ Reach technique. A wire of sunlight blazed down from the viewing platform of the sun-god¡¯s tower, then erupted as a full scene from Myrrir¡¯s device. It was almost over, and the crowd watched, transfixed as Karmion of the vision laid out his disdain for them. Vayra glanced back down the hallway, but Farrir had fled, and he would be long gone. With the gods busy, she had a little more time to prepare. She jumped down and buoyed herself with starlight, filling her channels and letting herself glide, then landed in a crouch beside Myrrir. ¡°The weapon is done?¡± he asked. ¡°As best as it can be!¡± she replied. ¡°They¡¯ll come for you.¡± She glanced up at the sky, where the three gods still floated. Already, they were tracing the route of the technique to Myrrir and her. ¡°Leave it!¡± she shouted. ¡°We need to run!¡± ¡°Where?¡± ¡°To the port! When Tallerion arrives, we¡¯ll need a way offworld, and I¡¯m sure our ships need help!¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± said Myrrir. ¡°Are you going to fight the gods?¡± ¡°Unless you think they¡¯ll let us go without a fight!¡± ¡°Just like on Naebel, then.¡± Myrrir grimaced. ¡°Odd to be on the other side of it.¡± ¡®Enough empathetic waxing!¡¯ Phason¨¦ complained. ¡®More running away! Flee! By the Stream, you¡¯ve just severely pissed off three gods!¡¯ Vayra nodded, then turned and leapt over the edge of the arena. As she fell, she activated the Astra Shroud and kicked off the wall. Myrrir kept up for a few seconds with his own Bracing technique, and yelled, ¡°What about Glade?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t help him now!¡± she called. Her lead expanded, and she pulled out in front of Myrrir. ¡°If he wins, he¡¯ll find us and help us. If he loses, he¡¯ll probably not¡­survive.¡± No matter how little she wanted to think about it, she couldn¡¯t put it in any other way. And though she didn¡¯t want to leave Myrrir behind, her Shroud was faster than him. She skirted around the arena and raced off toward the port. No sense in waiting behind¡ªthe ships needed her. As she drew closer to Shatterport, sharp booms of cannonfire poured through the forest and slipped along the road. People fled from the arena, still despite the assurances of the gods, and debris rained down from above. An enormous Ko-Ganall vertebrae, charred from its descent through the atmosphere, blocked the center of the road, forcing Vayra into the woods to turn into the woods and navigate around it. Myrrir caught up when he blasted a hole straight through the center of it, allowing a path for civilians to reach the port. But even if they wanted to evacuate, the port was entirely locked down. When Vayra reached Shatterport, she leapt up onto the rooftops for a view of the harbour. Cargo ships waited in their berths, unwilling to challenge the Elderworld blockade, and hordes of bluecoats marched along the wharf, keeping civilians back. Crowds plugged the streets as people tried to push toward the ships. If any grew too rowdy, the bluecoats unleashed volleys of grapeshot on them, scattering and killing the closest. Vayra scowled. But Tallerion could clean up the wharf when the time came. The bigger problem was out to sea. The remaining fleet of Velaydian ships, now only about five of them, clumped a few miles offshore, surrounded on all sides by much more numerous Elderworld ships. A few techniques clashed¡ªwater-Path God-heirs against the remaining Order of Balance Adepts and Disciples. Vayra leapt off the roof of a warehouse and down to the water, then sprinted toward the Velaydian fleet. Chapter 61: Staying Alive When Karmion finally found the second projecting device and crushed it, he demanded that the next round of the tournament fight began immediately, then took off with Nilsenir and Kalawen, racing toward the port. Glade had nothing to complain about. His mana was full again. Everything was there, except for Varion¡¯s overwhelming power. Desperately, he cycled Arcara to the swordwyrm but nothing more happened. Still, dutifully, like a bedraggled sailor pulling himself ashore, he walked out into the center of the arena. ¡°Ready for yet another beating?¡± Varion sneered. ¡°Look at you. Dirty lock of coloured hair, ornate uniform. You¡¯ve abandoned everything your Order stood for. This is where disloyalty gets you.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Glade narrowed his eyes. ¡°I am ready to fight you.¡± The trumpet sounded, and immediately, Glade attacked. If he didn¡¯t get aggressive right away, Varion would seize the victory. This was his last chance. He let desperation fuel his strikes, imbuing his techniques with ferocity and his strikes with extra power. But he was still a disciple of Elder Eman-Fa, and he knew better than to let desperation ruin his form. Each swipe ended where he wanted it, each began where he chose. If he let Varion get close to the outer moat, it¡¯d be too much water to deal with. Instead, he kept the man ahead of him and circled around. If Varion stayed in the center of the arena, he could only use the comparatively miniscule amounts of water from the orb beside him. But in the end, Varion kept up with everything. Each retreat was tactical, each dodge set him up to counter-attack. And when he landed a punch in the center of Glade¡¯s chest, it flung Glade to the edge of the arena¡ªright into the range of the moat. Varion hoisted up a pillar of water. It rose behind Glade and loomed over him, dropping a deep shadow across her face. Then it froze into spiky shards. Varion was going for as flashy of a defeat as he could muster. Glade sprang up to his feet, and with the swordwyrm¡¯s help, struck the base of the column. Blades enhanced, they sliced right through the ice. The column¡¯s base shattered and spilled downward, and, like a tree toppling, it fell. Glade had specifically cut so it¡¯d fall outward. The column plummeted backward and smashed into the audience stands behind. Those who didn¡¯t scatter were crushed into red smears. Glade¡¯s eyes widened. Karmion had completely abandoned the arena, and there was no one protecting the crowd. The audience scattered, spilling across the risers and racing toward the exits. If they weren¡¯t trying to abandon the Moon before, they would be now. But the pact remained, and if Glade won, he¡¯d still get the godhood¡ªaudience or not. He spun around behind Varion and sprinted back to the center of the arena, deflecting ice shards behind him. Ameena and King Tallerion¡¯s Aide still stood on the brink of the waiting room¡¯s opening, directly ahead, watching him. Maybe, if he tried to win for them¡ª Before he reached the center of the arena, a shard of ice speared through his calf and tripped him. Varion pounced. He threw punch after punch into the sand, and though Glade rolled to avoid them, Varion was faster. One collided with his shoulder, shredding skin and flesh. Another impacted his gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs and making him cough up blood. The swordwyrm swooped and harried him, but with a spear of ice, he flung the creature across the arena. It tumbled across the sand and embedded in the earth tip-first. Glade was going to lose. He was going to die. The moment he deflated, his spirit would collapse. If Varion didn¡¯t kill him, he¡¯d be a cripple, barely able to move. A chunk of falling debris from the sky would crush him. He hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d be afraid, but he was. He still had so many more people to save. He was supposed to have a life after this. The galaxy wasn¡¯t supposed to end, nor be subjected to tyranny like¡­this. He raised a hand and tried to catch Varion¡¯s fist. He held the man¡¯s hand back for a few seconds before Varion flung Glade¡¯s arm out to the side, nearly popping it out of its socket. ¡°Why? Why did you think that¡¯d work?¡± Varion demanded. ¡°Any of this? You¡¯re a half-mortal at best. You¡¯re nothing.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°And what are you?¡± Glade coughed up another splatter of blood. ¡°I had not heard your name until a few weeks ago.¡± ¡°I am my father¡¯s loyal servant, and that is enough.¡± He pulled his hand back again, ready for another punch. He aimed at Glade¡¯s forehead. The strike would cave in Glade¡¯s skull. ¡°It¡¯s not enough for me,¡± Glade said, raising his hands in a desperate defense. ¡°It was never enough.¡± Vayra skimmed over the surface of the water. She analyzed the naval skirmish ahead, trying to pick out the Harmony in the cluster. Amidst the smoke and flotsam, it duelled with an Elderworld frigate, staying mobile and downwind, so it could retreat at any moment. The wreckage of at least one Velaydian ship floated in the wake of the slowly-drifting skirmish, and a few Elderworld ships limped along. One retreated, its hull and sails burning. She targeted the largest ship, a two-decked second-rate ship, and jumped up onto its deck. With a twirl, she sliced through its mainmast with newfound ease, then sliced up its ratlines so the mast plummeted outward. The crew and bluecoats fired a volley of musketshot at her, but most of it missed¡ªshe was already past, moving with the speed of the Astral Shroud. For good measure, she Warded her side. A few stray shots bounced off the shield. She leapt from the deck of the crippled second-rate ship and landed on the forecastle of a crumbling Velaydian galleon. A crew of Redmarines and an Order disciple duelled with a Master¡¯s Mate Stage god-heir on an ocean Path, but the God-heir was winning. Until Vayra grabbed the woman by the back of her neck and threw her into the ship¡¯s deck with her mechanical arm, then blasted a Starlight Palm into the woman¡¯s chest. The God-heir fell still and silent instantly. The marines and Order Disciple stared at her and nodded, and she nodded back, then poured a Ward into the railing to intercept a barrage of cannonballs. They thudded off and tumbled into the sea before they could cause any real damage. Then she leapt across to a different Elderworld vessel, which had latched onto the Harmony with a spiderweb of grappling hooks. She ran along the ship¡¯s railing, slicing the hooks off and blasting away the nearest bluecoats, then turned back to the center of the ship. A hole waited in the center of the deck. She leapt through and landed on the gun deck in a crouch, then drew her pistol and blasted a line of white starlight from the bow aftward. It didn¡¯t cleave through the hull entirely, but it blasted through the ship¡¯s main chambers with burning heat. When it hit the powder magazine, a shockwave blasted through the entire ship. She Warded her front as the blast flung her back out of the ship and into the water, but before she could sink, she rolled and sprinted along the surface of the water. She circled around to the prow of the Harmony, then swung up over the railing and climbed up to the main deck. Gunners scrambled around, rolling barrels and tossing cannonballs into the weapons. Redmarines leaned against the deck railing, firing blast after blast from their muskets. Vayra turned and sprinted back to the quarterdeck, weaving between sailors and marines, then scampered up the stairs. When she arrived at the top, a God-heir stood in front of her. Two Order Adepts chased after the woman, panting but determined to defend the quarterdeck¡¯s officers. A First Lieutenant. The God-heir unleashed a flurry of water-Bracing enhanced punches, but Vayra blocked them all. She was about to retaliate with a scythe swipe when a spear of gunpowder pierced the God-heir¡¯s heart and flung her overboard. Myrrir leapt up onto the Harmony¡¯s stern railing, holding his sword in one hand and a swirling orb of gunpowder in the other. ¡°Vayra!¡± Captain Pels called. ¡°Nice of you and your¡­friend to show up!¡± ¡°Glad we could help!¡± she said. ¡°Is Glade with you?¡± ¡°Not at the moment. He¡¯s finishing up at the arena.¡± ¡°Then I take it we¡¯re not leaving, eh?¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± She flooded the stern railing with starlight, blocking a barrage of cannonfire from behind. Myrrir pointed his palm out at a different ship, holding its gunpowder back and causing its main battery to backfire. ¡°I came to make sure you guys were surviving, and to hold the way open.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re surviving. Can¡¯t say for how much longer.¡± Already, another three ships were breaking off from the blockade to reinforce the Elderworld squadron. Without breaking rank, they¡¯d slowly whittle away the few survivors until there was nothing left. Vayra exhaled, then rested on her scythe. ¡°We just need to survive a little longer. Glade will be here. He has to.¡± ¡°I¡¯m less worried about him, and more about how we¡¯re going to break their lines,¡± Pels said. He flinched when one of the Velaydian ships¡¯ masts fell, splashing into the water right beside the Harmony. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to pressure you,¡± said Myrrir, ¡°but the horde of space monsters is getting closer.¡± Above, the Ko-Ganall floated halfway between the Shattered Moon and its parent world, now, and they were getting closer. The blasts of light from Nathariel and the other Gods¡¯ techniques washed across the sky, becoming enormous northern lights. Vayra opened her mouth to argue, but before she could say anything, a ridge of water rose around the skirmishing ships, containing them in a mile-wide circle. Karmion floated to the west, hovering above the sea. Globs of water hovered in the air behind him. To the southeast and northeast respectively were Kalawen and Nilsenir, both floating above the waves as well. ¡°And now they¡¯ve caught us,¡± Pels grumbled. ¡°Did you have a plan for these guys? Is Nathariel here, by the way? Did you rescue him, seeing as you have the fancy darkness weapon?¡± ¡°He¡¯s up there,¡± Vayra whispered, pointing at the sky. ¡°We¡¯re on our own.¡± ¡°Up there¡­? Oh, we¡¯re doomed. Well, boys, it was a good run, eh?¡± ¡°This is your last chance!¡± Karmion shouted, projecting his voice across the waves. ¡°Surrender, Mediator, and I will make their deaths quick.¡± Chapter 62: In the End... [Volume 4] If Karmion wanted, he could destroy their remaining fleet with a few minutes of concentration. Vayra knew it, he had to know it. She turned to Myrrir and said, ¡°Can you distract your father and Kalawen? Long enough to stay alive?¡± He spun his sword beside him. ¡°I can try.¡± ¡°Are you close to advancing?¡± ¡°Close enough. If I get the last push I need, it might tip me over the edge.¡± He thrust his arms down, and a bed of gunpowder swirled beneath his feet. It lifted up a moment, and he hovered a few inches off the surface of the quarterdeck. ¡°How close are you? We need you at Grand Admiral.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­almost there, too,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t explain it, but it¡¯s like I¡¯m hovering on the brink of something, staring out and incapable of falling off.¡± ¡°You need someone to push you off,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°Face Karmion. You have to. If you advance, you will take the day. If not? You¡¯ll lose.¡± She closed her eyes, recalling how easily Karmion had thrown her around in the Cardinal Arrant¡¯s Great Cabin. But, for the sake of the galaxy, for a chance to see the worlds as she wanted, to explore, to live a life afterward¡ªto live free with her friends¡ªshe had to do this. She tightened her fists and activated the Astral Shroud, then her internal Wards, then lastly, the Mediator Form. With everything layered atop, she blazed pure white, and her mana visibly depleted from her core with how much strain it put on her system. She leapt over the railing of the deck and skimmed along the surface of the water. Whenever she kicked through a wisp of Stream water, her mana refilled, making the overall drain much slower. If she distracted Karmion, accepted the brunt of his techniques, then he couldn¡¯t direct his attention to wiping out their ships. Already, when she launched toward him, he lowered his arms and dropped the ring of waves. The fleets could sail free again, for what good it did. When she was only a few yards from Karmion, she lifted up on the starlight inside her body, rising out of the waves, then unleashed a Starlight Palm with an impact runic enhancement. It struck him in the chest and sent him sailing back a few feet through the air. ¡°So you¡¯ve finally come to face me?¡± Karmion asked. ¡°Head to head?¡± Vayra held out the scythe, then Moulded Phason¨¦¡¯s white outline overtop of it. Mustering as much confidence as she could, she said, ¡°It¡¯s over. No matter what, I won¡¯t let you leave this moon.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice.¡± Karmion reached out toward the scythe, his fingers splayed. ¡°Thank you for finishing that for me. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll work much better now.¡± The weapon wiggled in Vayra¡¯s hands, as if tempted to return to its previous master, but she gripped it tight. It wouldn¡¯t budge if she had anything to say about it. Before reforging it, Karmion might have exerted more authority over it. But now, very little water-aspect remained. It was dark, void. And Vayra¡¯s abilities thrived in the darkness. Mine, Vayra thought. She pulled back, keeping the scythe close to her, and breaking the last wisps of Karmion¡¯s control. Tendrils of water-Arcara and steam seeped out of the weapon¡ªwhat Farrir hadn¡¯t purified out¡ªand evaporated in the air, and the weapon stopped budging altogether. Karmion grunted, then said, ¡°It matters not. Weapon or no weapon, you are doomed.¡± She launched herself forward, pushing the starlight in her channels, then struck Karmion with a flurry of scythe swipes. He blocked them all with a Warded forearm, then snapped forward and gripped her shoulder. She struck his arm, but it didn¡¯t budge. He wasn¡¯t even Bracing himself. ¡°If you thought you could defeat me, then you were a bigger fool than I thought,¡± he sneered. He threw her down into the water, and she Warded her back to stop the impact with the surface from collapsing her spine, but instead, a trench of water receded from the bay, turning into a valley a few hundred feet deep. She crashed onto the rocky sea floor, now with no water to catch her. The impact created a crater. Panting, Vayra rolled over. The trench was only a ship¡¯s length wide, though it ran from one side of the port to the other. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Karmion descended to the bottom on a cloud of mist. Gauntlets of water formed around his arms, and they took on the shape of eagle heads. That was his Brace. He darted forward across the damp silt and seabed rock, then threw a punch down into the ground. Rolling aside, Vayra sprang out from the crater and landed in a nearby pool of Stream water¡ªKarmion could only manipulate freshwater, and the Stream water hadn¡¯t rescinded. His fist slammed into the ground, creating cracks across the entire plane of stone. Distant buildings in the city quaked and crumbled. ¡®Vayra, stay light on your feet,¡¯ Phason¨¦ reminded her. ¡®You can¡¯t beat him in a contest of strength, and your Wards won¡¯t do much against that.¡¯ She whirled her scythe, then dodged two more fists. Karmion was fast, but even when his fists blurred and a hailstorm of eagle-head strikes raced at her, she comprehended it. Ducking and whirling, she evaded. She¡­matched his speed. As an Admiral. She noticed every movement. Her loop with Adair told her where the attack would come, his reflexes letting her dodge at the first twitch of a muscle. When a fist raced past her nose, only barely missing, she counter-attacked with a Starlight Palm. It struck Karmion in the gut and delayed his next attack. She slashed at his head, hoping for a lucky blow, but the strike only grazed his cheek. He leapt back and wiped the side of his face. Blood glimmered on his fingertips. Then he snarled. Before Vayra could charge and continue the attack, jets of water blasted out from the sides of the water valley, turning into fists and blasting at her face, or her gut, or reaching for her legs. She jumped and ducked, whirled and slashed to disperse them, but no matter how fast, there were too many. A fist struck her from the side and knocked her to the ground, and another smashed down on her back, sending her sprawling face-first onto the silt. All she could do was roll away, stagger to her feet, and cower under her Wards. The columns of water weren¡¯t as strong as Karmion¡¯s fists, but with each strike, she staggered, until finally, she fell down to her knees. Panting and out of breath, she raised her arms, preparing to take another barrage, but none came. Karmion still stood ahead of her. He peeled off his coat and tossed it away, then cracked his neck and his knuckles. ¡°In the end, you¡¯re nothing. I am going to enjoy destroying¡ª¡± A distant, deep chime rang out across the water. Vayra couldn¡¯t see what it belonged to, but when she extended her spiritual senses, she recognized a large mass of mortal forms descending along the Stream. More bells rang out, steadily rising in pitch, and growing louder and more numerous. There had to be thousands of them. She smiled. Help had arrived. A mix of desperation, hope, and relief welled up inside her, but still staring at Karmion left her overwhelmed. Without destroying him, they were done for. But where previously, there was only a will to live, she clenched her fists in determination. Her heart swelled, her core resonated, and the loop between herself and Adair turned firm. She heaved herself up to her feet, then reached out with her mind. One last push. The conditions were there. Her power cycled over to Adair, and he let it in. But she needed to draw on something deeper. The very nature of her position demanded it. She had to distill it down to a single concept that embodied their bond¡ªthat was the profundity the advancement required. Without thinking, her starlight lifted her up, and her legs curled beneath her. She folded them, then placed her hands gently on the dark scythe in her lap. ¡°Phason¨¦,¡± Vayra breathed. ¡°I¡­don¡¯t know¡ª¡± ¡®Yes, you do,¡¯ said the goddess. Swift. Mobility was her biggest ally, and the same went for Adair, and all cats, truly. Agility, reflexes, and an ability to move fast. A ship¡¯s cat was nothing special, but she was just a street rat herself. A rare beast wouldn¡¯t make such an excellent bonded partner when it didn¡¯t have as deep of a connection¡ªat least, in the eyes of the Stream. Shouting, Karmion raced forward, raising both his fists as if he could pound her into the ground once more. Instead of resisting, she slipped back, floating through the air. She shut her eyes and willed the advancement to begin. Her Arcara pressurized and thudded through her channels, then a vortex of blue-white sparks erupted around her. ¡°It was never enough,¡± Glade said. He glanced at the swordwyrm, then pushed his Arcara between him and it as fast as he could. He wanted something more than this. He needed something more than this. Advance. Now or never. Sharp? Was that all he was? But that wasn¡¯t who he was, nor what the swordwyrm was. It was a forgotten beast inhabiting a hundred-year-old greatsword, a possession of a dead god. There were thousands of sharp swords, but none like this. Individual. Glade floated up above the ground and shut his eyes. At first, Varion only leapt back in shock, but the man quickly composed himself and threw out an icy fist. Glade pushed himself to the side. He cemented his cycling loop with the swordwyrm, and the beast allowed the connection. It allowed him in. A cloud of metal filings rose up around him, swirling in a vortex, and when Varion threw his next punch, it deflected to the side. ¡°No!¡± Varion shouted. ¡°Fight me!¡± Glade would. But when he emerged, the ground would be much more even. Chapter 63: Grand Admirals [Volume 4] Captain Pels dropped down to the deck as a barrage of cannonballs tore over the quarterdeck railing. Splinters and wood shards tumbled through the air, and powder smoke choked him. Arcara sparks rained down over the quarterdeck as an Adept and a God-heir traded blows nearby. When the sawdust cleared from the air, Pels staggered back to his feet, then hauled the coxswain up as well. ¡°Are you alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good, sir!¡± the young man shouted. ¡°Keep hold of that wheel! Bring us about north by northeast, or that frigate will rake us!¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± ¡°Mr. McHyll!¡± Pels shouted. He ran to the quarterdeck railing, clubbing a bluecoat with his pistol along the way. ¡°Yes, captain?¡± the mortal lieutenant replied. ¡°I want us alongside that frigate in range of pistolshot!¡± ¡°Yes, sir!¡± The rigging was fraying, and the sails were tattered, but the masts hadn¡¯t sustained any real damage. Pels shielded his eyes from an Arcara technique flashing in the distance¡ªMyrrir occupying the two other lesser gods. Vayra was nowhere to be seen. ¡°Carpenter!¡± he shouted. The old Master of Carpenters had been killed a few minutes earlier, and one of his Mate¡¯s took over. ¡°Damage report!¡± ¡°We¡¯re patching three direct hits to the hull, captain!¡± a young man yelled from the main deck. ¡°They hit us from upwind, and on the flat sea, they¡¯re below the water line! Hull integrity is dropping!¡± ¡°Just hold us together and keep the mast bases stable!¡± ¡°Aye, sir!¡± The Harmony shifted, angling away from the Velaydian formation. Out of nowhere, their only first-rate ship ruptured, and a shockwave raced across the surface of the water. Flame spewed up from its magazine, ripping its hull in half and collapsing its mainmast. For all purposes, it was as good as done. Pels cursed softly, then opened his mouth, about to shout to the crew and instruct them to get back to their duties and hold the ship together, but most of them turned the other direction. Pels slapped the side of his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ear, then turned to face in the same direction. The buzz and windchime-like rattling in his head morphed into a faint warbling of bells. At the edge of the Stream, and at the very edge of the Shattered Moon¡¯s central island, was a fleet of Velaydian warships. Tallerion. Pels smiled, then raised his pistol to the sky. ¡°The king! The king has come!¡± King Tallerion had an excellent view of the carnage on the descent to the planet¡¯s surface. Fires and smoke burned in the port city, cannons flashed, and desperate civilians rioted while gods duel in the sky above. Bone debris rained down from high above, and steaming Ko-Ganall innards flamed over half the city. In the harbour, the remaining squadron of Velaydian ships were surrounded, and as he watched, the single first-rate ship¡¯s magazine ignited, vapourizing the nearby ocean and sending up a column of steam. Farther away, in the middle of the harbour, was a massive trench in the water, where two miniscule forms duelled on the dry ocean floor. At first, Tallerion clung to the railing of the quarterdeck, deflated and desperate. He was too late, and their numbers were too few. But he tightened his grip, then held out his hand. ¡°My musket, if you please.¡± ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± His low-aide handed him a gold-gilded musket with a brass dragon head for a muzzle. He tightened his grip on its barrel and straightened up. Their fleet reached the base of the Stream, in the sliver of ocean between the enormous watery slope behind and the line of Elderworld warships in front. There was nothing else he could do except make one last charge into the fray of battle, hoping that they might turn the tide. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Signal flags fluttered all across the Elderworld fleet¡¯s ranks, and the ships turned to present a wall of cannons. They condensed to meet the threat, forming a line tip-to-stern. Musket in hand, he marched to the mortal navy admiral who¡¯d travelled with the fleet¡ªthe highest ranking of them all. ¡°Send forth a squadron,¡± commanded Tallerion. ¡°Break open their line. I¡¯ll move in astern and rake them as we pass. We make for the shore. Get as many ships to the port in one piece as we can.¡± ¡°Sir? You don¡¯t mean to wipe out their fleet?¡± The admiral tilted his head. ¡°I mean to preserve the lives of the civilians. The moment Karmion realizes they favour Vayra more than us, they will be the primary target. Vayra needs their loyalty and belief in order to turn the tide. Our best bet for victory is to preserve their lives.¡± ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll make ready a squadron.¡± King Tallerion then strode back to the center of the quarterdeck, and faced the entire ship. ¡°Hoist the Velaydian stripes! We charge straight for them, numbers be damned. You are man of the navy, and we¡¯ll fear no gods! Forth!¡± The ship¡¯s bell tolled once more, signalling to the rest of the fleet, and an entire choir of bells rose up around them. Even if Kalawen and Nilsenir were weaker than Karmion, there were two of them. All Myrrir could do was run, drawing away their techniques and keeping them from striking the mortal ships. Arcara blasted through the air. Waves of gunpowder washed around him, splashing into the ocean and slicing past his back. Illusions danced in front of his face and tried to alter his mind, and beams of purple Arcara tried to slice his soul. He barely registered the first chorus of bells signalling the arrival of the Velaydian fleet, but when the bells began ringing again, and the ships sloshed forward in two columns, racing to break the Elderworld lines, he paid slightly more attention. No matter what happened to him, it was almost over. And, likely, it¡¯d end for the worse. He drew up the little jade spirit he¡¯d been cultivating over the past few days or weeks. The jump wouldn¡¯t happen alone, and this spirit had no mind or soul. He just needed to absorb it. Acceptance. He knew the profundity of his situation, and it came clinically. He¡¯d known it since he made his pledge to Tye¡¯s corpse. Only now did it resonate properly, pushing him over the edge of the advancement. In an instant, the body of the spirit dissolved, and his last advancement began. At first, in her excitement, Vayra pushed too hard. Adair¡¯s fur turned to strands, and in her spiritual sight, a blue dust leaked off his soul and poured through the air toward her. She didn¡¯t pull as hard with her Arcara, and instead concentrated on keeping the loop between them contained. She pulled strength over from him, and he sent it back, maintaining their mutual cooperation. Instead of pulling apart Adair¡¯s material, she simply drew on his mana, partially manifesting elements of the cat¡¯s soul and permanently accepting his abilities as part of her bond. Where others would manifest an element of the bonded spirit¡ªPhason¨¦¡¯s eyes or Karmion¡¯s mane¡ªa tingle emerged atop Vayra¡¯s head. There was no physical change, except for two blazing torches of blue Arcara. They bent back along the side of her head, like a cat¡¯s ears in a fight, and whenever her cycling Arcara reached a low point, they dimmed. She cycled faster, and the light of the faux-ears throbbed. The enhanced reflexes stayed. Reaction time, reflexes, and innate instinct. They flooded into her, stronger than before. With it came an increased grade of Arcara, which she poured into her Astral Shroud. The flames flickered across her skin brighter, and the scythe¡¯s Mould blazed with intensity. The vortex of sparks fell, and she landed right on her feet, facing Karmion at the bottom of the ocean. Water techniques raced inward, striking from all angles, but she Warded herself and spread her stance. The advancement hadn¡¯t used up all her mana, and though it was dipping low and her mouth was parching, there were pools all around. Water smashed against her shields, but this time, they held. This time, she¡¯d face Karmion on her own terms. On as even ground as she could. Glade only realized he was pulling too hard on the swordwyrm¡¯s form when chips of metal flew toward him. Its swirling, rusty form began disintegrating. He yelped, then, realizing he had been playing right into Kalawen¡¯s hands, fell back on the loop he¡¯d been practicing earlier. He knew exactly what the swordwyrm meant to him and why he advanced with it. A numb tingle emerged behind his ears, like his Arcara channels were trying to push out of his skull. Wings of sunset-yellow Arcara emerged from his head, angled backwards. It had tiny, straight blades rather than feathers. The swordwyrm remained, but Glade had perfect control over its abilities now. He hovered off the ground of the arena, floating before Varion as the vortex of metal filings fell still. Grand Admiral grade Arcara flooded into his limbs, empowering his enhanced body and allowing him to match the power of Varion. He pushed himself forward, calling on the swordwyrm¡¯s ability to fly, and using its innate nature as a sword beast to boost the sharpness of his blade even further. With a slice, he smashed through Varion¡¯s Warded forearm and left a gash along the surface of the man¡¯s skin. He attacked from above, using the superior angle to his advantage. A satisfying crunch ran through the sword as ice crystals shattered and Arcara bend before his blade. ¡°No¡­¡± Varion breathed. Glade and the swordwyrm attacked in unison, driving Varion back across the arena, until they reached the center once more. His sword whirled, chopping through Wards and deflecting ice shards, until finally, he whirled it up to Varion¡¯s throat. ¡°Make me do it,¡± Glade whispered. ¡°Make me kill you now.¡± Varion narrowed his eyes. ¡°Once more. Refill your mana, Orderman, and we fight the last bout immediately. We¡¯ll see who¡¯s the best without a freak advancement.¡± Chapter 64: Mantle of Authority [Volume 4] Vayra darted across the sea floor, leaping from oceanbed rock to planes of silt and gravel. Her feet splashed through pools of Stream water, and she drew it back in, preparing to fight. The Mediator Form, Astral Shroud, and internal Warding were all still active. She crossed the distance between herself and Karmion in a blink, then ducked aside from a wild punch. The eagle-head Braces still covered his fists, and when they struck the empty air, they unleashed a shockwave that made the walls of ocean on either side shudder. She countered with a Starlight Palm. The technique struck with newfound intensity, sending out an enormous pulse of white energy and benting the air. The walls of water funnelled it up into the sky, making a straight beacon upward. At least some might see she was still fighting. Karmion staggered back with the impact, clutching his chest for a second. His eyes went wide, then slipped back into determination. But she knew she¡¯d just hit him with the intensity and power of an Emissary. His honest expression meant nothing else. ¡®Now keep hitting him!¡¯ Phason¨¦ urged. ¡®If you need a hand, I¡¯ll give you one.¡¯ ¡°You got it,¡± Vayra said. She attacked with the scythes, slicing hard and fast. She targeted Karmion¡¯s body and head, hoping to land a lucky blow, but each time, he raised his fists and blocked her strikes. Shields of water formed around the edges of his hands, and alone, her scythe couldn¡¯t cut through. But the disruption runestone, fuelled by Grand Admiral Arcara, temporarily disabled his Ward and Brace. When he raised his arm next, she cut at him. His skin was iron. His bones were steel, and his flesh was stone. Already, Arcara was flooding back into his enhanced body. She only left a cut across the surface of his skin. The black night-scythe severed an Arcara channel, but it was the most damage she¡¯d ever done. Karmion gasped and staggered back, then reformed his Ward and Brace. ¡°That was a nice trick, girl,¡± he sneered. ¡°Now, it¡¯s my turn.¡± Glade circled around Varion at the center of the arena. By now, the audience was a roar of fleeing civilians and mortals trying to escape any potential carnage and make for the port. They were hardly paying attention to the fight at the center. The only witnesses were Ameena, King Talleion¡¯s aide, and a few other Velaydian staff who had scrambled down to the waiting room. The arena staff and overseers were fleeing. God-heirs and gods hovered above the arena, directing the mortals, and trying to assure them of their safety¡ªbegging them to stay. Almost none listened, swept up in the chaos and confusion. There was no signal to start the final round of the fight. When Glade and Varion locked eyes, the battle began. He charged forward, striking downward, then unleashed a spattering of strikes that left his opponent reeling. He alternated sides, striking back and forth and forcing Varion to adjust his footwork to intercept. But, no matter how hard Glade tried to redirect Varion¡¯s retreat, the man always adjusted, stepping back toward the moat and a higher source of water. Glade fuelled his body faster, burning up more mana, and the glimmer of Arcara along the edge of his blade glowed yellow. As he swung, it left streaks in the air behind him. He concentrated on the direction they needed to push Varion in, and the swordwyrm responded without vocal command. Glade provided the will and intent through their link, and the swordwyrm answered the call, striking from the side and pushing Varion temporarily away from the moat. He jumped right back, continuing his slow retreat. Not only was he dragging the fight out, but he was draining Glade¡¯s mana. And there was nothing Glade could do about it. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. When they reached the moat, Glade prepared to take shelter. All he had was an internal Ward and a Reach technique, and though he¡¯d honed them, they weren¡¯t as varied as Varion¡¯s arsenal. Still, Glade activated his Wards. The Dawnspear body enhanced the flowing, burning Arcara, and the sunset aspect he¡¯d gained upon advancing to Captain burned bright in his channels. Varion raised up a wall of water behind him, then thrust his fist out, and hundreds of ice spikes shot out, reaching to impale Glade. He slashed as many as he could, and despite the new grade of Arcara granting his body enhanced speed, he couldn¡¯t deflect them all. The swordwyrm rushed in and guarded one side, and Glade¡¯s defensive training kicked in, telling him to guard the other, but shards still slipped through. They sliced up the surface of his skin and dug into his internal Ward, leaving deep cuts. Not as bad as they would¡¯ve been, but not pleasant either. Then an ice-spike lashed out and struck him square in the center of the chest, driving him to the ground and pinning him. It didn¡¯t pierce bone, but it pressed against the center of his ribcage. His body groaned, and the sand shifted as the technique pressed him deeper into the arena floor. In the distance, Ameena shouted something. His ears pounded, and blood surged to his head. The swordwyrm chittered in fear. ¡°Even after an advancement, you¡¯re still useless,¡± Varion muttere. ¡°I serve my¡ª¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Glade bellowed, then gripped the shard of ice with his left hand. Mana flooded his arm, enough to make his enhanced body glow bright yellow. He tightened his grip and the shard shattered. He pulled himself to his feet, then, drawing out the rest of his mana, burned it to the edge of his body. It all fled his core, and his mouth dried in an instant. A flame surged up around his body. He gripped the stub of the ice shard and pulled, sending Varion stumbling forward, then struck under the man¡¯s chin with an open palm. He whirled his sword behind him, building speed, then slashed up across Varion¡¯s gut. The man staggered backward, then shifted his Wards, shielding different parts of his body. Glade and the swordwyrm resumed their onslaught with renewed intensity. They moved faster than Varion¡¯s Wards could shift, and wounds sprang up all around his body. Glade barely registered where he slashed, only a slight resistance when the steel broke skin. Then, with Varion teetering on the edge of the moat, Glade brought his sword up to Varion¡¯s neck. The swordwyrm pressed in from the other side. ¡°You¡¯re out of mana,¡± Varion sneered. ¡°Raise a wall of water,¡± Glade taunted. ¡°Do it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re out!¡± ¡°I have dregs.¡± With a shout, Varion raised his arms, and a streak of water spewed up from the moat behind. One last push. Glade flicked his sword to the side, expending the last of his mana, and cleaved through Varion¡¯s neck. The swordwyrm angled downward and cleaved the man from right shoulder to left hip. His body crumpled and fell into the water behind. Glade stayed on the brink of the moat, panting, with black specks whirling in front of his eyes. He swayed forward and back, watching the water below. But Varion wasn¡¯t recovering from that. Glade staggered back, only to find someone pulling on his arm. ¡°You won!¡± Ameena screeched, then hoisted his arm up. ¡°And¡­no one¡¯s even paying attention.¡± ¡°We have bigger concerns¡­¡± Glade said. ¡°We need to get to the¡ª¡± Before he could finish, a weight settled on his shoulders, a mantle of authority dragging down on him, and at first, he didn¡¯t understand. He fell silent. Ameena splashed a pale of Stream water over him and waved her hand in front of his face, but he didn¡¯t even blink. Something was changing. The skyclash oath remained, and he¡¯d fulfilled its current desire. He was receiving his reward. Karmion shrank the rift in the ocean, dragging in the walls and constricting them to half the width they were before. Instead of a slash across the harbour, it was a mere cut, with its ends fast closing in. Tendrils of water poured out from the wall, clinging to Karmion¡¯s back life vines on a statue¡ªor like the elixir tubes in the false Namola tree. He grabbed Vayra¡¯s arm and twisted, wrenching her to the side before she could pull away. Her bones and muscles cried out in discomfort. No matter how high the advancement, a joint could only bend so far. She grit her teeth and moved with the strike. Karmion attacked again, poised to break or dislocate her shoulder, but she deflected it with her scythe. Instead, Karmion slammed her down into the ground again. He pulled his fist back, turning it into a hammer, and drove it into the ground beside her head. It would¡¯ve caved in her skull had she not moved. He dragged his arm to the side and slammed a fist into her ear. Not as hard as it could¡¯ve hit, but enough to make her head ring and lights to whirl in front of her eyes. Blinking, she recoiled, then squirmed upward, dodging an enhanced knee, but an elbow strike from above drove her back to the seafloor, driving the air from her lungs once again. Everything ached, and she¡¯d barely healed from her last skirmish with him. ¡°You may be a Grand Admiral, but you can¡¯t compare to me.¡± Karmion scowled. ¡°Just die. Make this easier for us all. It¡¯ll start over without you, and you will fade off into perfect, unknowing bliss.¡± Vayra gasping, trying to rebuke him, but she couldn¡¯t find the words. But no way was she letting someone else shoulder the same burden and go through what she did. She¡¯d seen the fear in his eyes, even if it was just a blink. She still had a chance. All she gasped out was, ¡°No.¡± Chapter 65: Plenty More To Go [Volume 4] Myrrir''s mind swam. A bolt of electric purple Arcara struck the back of his neck, and though it did no physical damage, the illusions doubled in strength. Weightless waves rose up from the sea to swat him out of the air, and Nilsenir''s ten strands of gunpowder became a hundred. An invisible impact struck him from behind, and he splashed harmlessly into the water. A hand gripped him, holding him below the surface. Illusions peeled away, leaving only the foamy, bubbly wake of the ocean surface. His body thrashed instinctively, and his lungs begged, screamed for air. Nothing. Only a silhouette of his father, gripping him by the neck, holding him beneath the surface. "I gave you everything!" Nilsenir bellowed. The bubbling water muffled his voice into faint whispers, but he was Bracing his whole body, and the immense sound of his enhanced reverberated in waves through the water, rattling in Myrrir¡¯s chest. "And you threw it all away! When push came to shove, you were incompetent! Then you threw in your lot with them! Many times I wished you had never been born, but today, I will fix my mistakes!¡± Myrrir choked in a breathful of water and sputtered, but no air came in, and he was left with the sheer panic¡ªand raw pain¡ªof drowning. Then another shape appeared behind Nilsenir. At first, Myrrir feared it was Kalawen. But this shape had a black coat and glowing yellow eyes. It tapped Nilsenir¡¯s shoulder, then swung a sword at him. Nilsenir released his grip on Myrrir¡¯s neck just in time to block the sword strike with his hook-hand, but the swipe still sent him skimming over the surface of the water. Myrrir pulled himself to the surface and choked out a lungful of water. He gasped for breath and took in his surroundings. Toward the Stream, the Velaydian fleet charged in two concentrated clumps, breaking the Elderworld lines. Cannons poured out smoke and fire, and a brown haze of sawdust clogged the air. But a few vessels broke through, and as quick as they could, they made for Shatterport. Their sails billowed and their prows chopped the water, and marines clung to the railings. On the shore, bluecoats repositioned their field cannons to fire on the approaching fleet, but they only had grapeshot for dissuading protestors. A beam of white light shone up from the slice in the sea, where Vayra duelled Karmion, but Myrrir couldn¡¯t tell the outcome of that fight. And, finally, Glade fought Nilsenir and Kalawen. His sword blazed with yellow light, and now, it trailed Arcara leaves in its wake. His soul and spirit brimmed with power, uncontrolled and uncontained, and it was venting everywhere. In the wake of his flying sword, sparks crystalized into impressions of wheat. An impression of life and longevity radiated from him, not to mention the strength of an Emissary. Newly forged, but an Emissary nonetheless. And he had two foes to deal with. He wouldn¡¯t win. They¡¯d pound him into dust before long. Myrrir hoisted himself above the waves on a platform of gunpowder, then shook the water off his hands. A third figure approached, riding side-saddle on a flying staff like it was a flying horse. She skimmed over the water, trailing after Glade. The lapin woman. Ameena. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re alive!¡± she chirped. ¡°Wonderful!¡± ¡°I need to¡­help¡­¡± Myrrir said. He clenched his fists and tightened his armour. ¡°You need to advance,¡± Ameena said. ¡°And now. Push yourself. You can¡¯t help him as an Admiral, but as a Grand Admiral, you might just be strong enough.¡± ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here to heal. I¡¯m nowhere close to Grand Admiral.¡± Myrrir winced. ¡°I¡ª¡± ¡°There¡¯s time. But you need to go fast.¡± ¡®Vayra,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said, ¡®your greatest ally is the Mediator Form.¡¯ But Vayra was already using it. ¡®No. Not fully. You¡¯re a Grand Admiral, now.¡¯ Then Phason¨¦ could pass her Arcara, and it might raise her stage equivalent a little¡ªenough to help against Karmion. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡®I am. You¡¯re drawing on my Arcara from the stars, and I¡¯m feeding you everything I have.¡¯ Then she was just weaker. They were done. ¡®Yes, you are. But the Mediator Form at Grand Admiral can do more for you, remember?¡¯ Draw on the mortals¡ªon their belief. Let it flood into her. She sprang off the sea floor and lifted herself up above the rift in the ocean, then held her arms out to the side. White fire blazed across her body, and a white wireframe outline of Phason¨¦ shone overtop. For miles, the light reflected across the water, like the moons of Decathe reflecting across the sea. She lifted herself higher until she floated above the masts of even the first-rate ships below. Anyone in the port would be watching. ¡®It¡¯s the feeling you get when someone is watching you,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®Tug on it. Draw on the tendrils of their belief. You are real, you returned, and you are here to help the people of the galaxy be free.¡¯ She shut her eyes and tried to imagine them watching her. The feeling you get. Her sixth sense, her spiritual perception, flooded across the harbour, but that alone wasn¡¯t enough. A chill ran down her spine. There were thousands of mortals in the harbour, and each of them had a tiny presence, but they were there. In the gray, monochrome perception of her surroundings, they each leaked out a strand of previously invisible power from their navel. Some reached out to Karmion still, desperately clinging to their god-emperor and begging him for help. Others reached back to the arena, to their other godly patrons. But those strands were crumbling by the second. Every mile closer the Ko-Ganall approached, every barrage of grapeshot that tore into the crowd. Most poured out toward Vayra. She reached out with her will and bundled them up, then drew them into her. At first, it felt like her soul had set on fire. She screamed, then pulled her voice down to a controlled yell, then wrestled her breathing into a proper timing. As her Arcara cycled, the strands of power circled her body and wound through her channels, enforcing and strengthening her techniques. She poured the new belief into her scythe, and it blazed along with her. Ascending up from the sea floor, Karmion sealed the rift in the ocean behind him, and the waves crashed in behind him. He floated up to meet Vayra. ¡°You can¡¯t. Their belief belongs to me!¡± ¡°You squandered it,¡± Vayra said, her voice washing over the entire port. ¡°You took their love and did nothing with it. It is time for a new era: an age of mortals. An age free from your tyranny.¡± Yelling, Karmion threw a punch at her throat, but she caught it and tightened her grip around his fingers until his knuckles cracked. He was weaker now than he was moments ago, with the belief in him slipping. And she was stronger than ever before. She twisted downward and threw him into the water. The force of the impact blasted a crater away and sent him plummeting to the sea floor. The water rescinded, but she¡¯d only have a few seconds before it would come roaring back in. Karmion coughed and raised his hands, mustering a slow defence against a flurry of scythe blows. He moved¡­pathetically slow. His Wards simmered off into steam, and his Bracing techniques weren¡¯t strong enough. Then she cleaved through his forearm and sliced it off. He tried to kick her, but she sliced off his leg and threw him back into the ground with a Starlight Palm. The seafloor blasted apart beneath him. He raised his hands, sputtering and screaming curses, vowing endless death and suffering upon her. No more. She whirled her scythe and sliced through his head, severing it from his shoulders, just as the water washed back in. She jumped up as the ocean¡¯s maw devoured Karmion¡¯s body. A great wave of force rattled out through the water, booming beneath the surface of the waves and making the ocean¡¯s surface ripple. That was one God dead. Plenty more to go. Glade couldn¡¯t feel his arms or legs. He focussed more on trying to contain the authority of Talock, to process the godly powers of the autumn harvest. He didn''t know what half of the new feelings meant, but there wasn¡¯t time to process them. The authority was of healing, of life, of continued survival. Of thankfulness and feasting of the autumn season. There were impressions of previous iterations of him. Talock, for one, holding a silver scythe and golden pitchfork. But before him, there were men and women with sickles and trowels, with leaf laurels and cloaks of intertwined wheat. Glade was the first of his kind¡ªa sword-wielding God of harvest. Instead of crops, he was going to cut down the gods. He whirled his blade around him, weaving a basket from head to toe. It was a better, stronger basket than his guards had ever been before, and golden-pink light circled around him. He cycled with the Burnished Flame Loop, focussing his will and fortifying his mind against Kalawen¡¯s illusions, and he focussed his internal Wards on his head, protecting himself from any further tampering. They launched technique after technique at him. He didn¡¯t need the swordwyrm to fly anymore, but it stayed by his side, deflecting technique after technique, until a stray blast sent it tumbling across the waves. It skipped like a stone. A tendril of gunpowder wrapped around his sword and caught it in a bind, and Kalawen unleashed a flurry of punches into his chest. ¡°You didn¡¯t take my advice.¡± Glade coughed blood, but still redirected his Wards to reabsorb some of the impact. Nilsenir rammed his hook-hand sharp tip first into Glade¡¯s gut, then sneered. ¡°You can¡¯t control it, boy! It¡¯s too much for your mediocre spirit! You¡¯ll never have what we do!¡± Glade panted and gasped. The godly authority was slipping out of his grasp, trying to leave him. He couldn¡¯t hold it all in, but he pulled on it nonetheless. He shouted, reaching out with his will, and redirected it in. He was a part of the changing seasons. He would help. He struck Kalawen with a punch from his free hand, sending her spiralling down to the ocean below. Before Nilsenir could retaliate, a flash of pale green severed the tendril of gunpowder, then swept up to the side and caught the pirate god across the chest and flung him back. Myrrir floated into place beside Glade. Green dust encased his hands like gloves of jade frost, and his spirit radiated the strength of a Grand Admiral. Ameena descended on the other side of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and healing his external wounds. Her Arcara filled him with a sense of calm, and the Godly Authority of the harvest settled down inside him. ¡°Now,¡± Glade said. ¡°I think we can destroy the two of them.¡± Chapter 66: Pride [Volume 4] Vayra fell flat onto her back and stared up at the sky above. She splayed out her arms and let the rocking waves toss her up and down. She deactivated all her techniques and unwound herself from Phason¨¦. She breathed deeply, trying to catch her breath. She barely registered what had just happened. And there was still so much going on. Even if she wanted to rest, she couldn¡¯t. The individual Ko-Ganall were visible to the surface as they swirled around the gods. They didn¡¯t seem interested in the little gnats pestering them¡ªuntil those gnats released a technique that deflected them off-course and sent them spinning away from the Moon. But Vayra couldn¡¯t help up there. She didn¡¯t have a technique to survive in the void. ¡®Only those four do,¡¯ said Phason¨¦. ¡®Unless they fight in the atmosphere, the others can¡¯t help us.¡¯ ¡°Then we need to get the people off this planet. The gods can¡¯t hold back the horde for much longer.¡± She hauled herself up and sprang out of the waves, then launched back toward the harbour. The Velaydian fleet pierced through the Elderworld blockade, and before arriving at the shore, they cleaned up the squadrons harrying the Harmony and the other ships left behind. Then, all sailed for the shore. When the ships arrived at piers or berths, Redmarines spilled off their decks, attacking the bluecoats from behind. When Vayra arrived at the harbour, the unaligned cargo ships began pulling away from the port, no doubt seeing the battle turning against Karmion and the Elderworlds. Vayra Braced her throat and voice box, then hovered above the water and yelled, ¡°Everyone, wait! Dump your cargo and fill your hulls with as many people as you can! We have to save as many as we can before that¡±¡ªshe pointed up at the sky¡ª¡°arrives! Once you¡¯re full, head to the Stream, and get as far from here as you can!¡± Most of the cargo haulers turned back and obeyed. They threw barrels and crates overboard while the marines cleared up the wharf. Vayra darted down, slashing through enemy field cannons and eliminating large clusters of bluecoats. Civilians broke through and charged to the ships, then clamoured aboard. Once the ships were full¡ªcargo hauler or Velaydian warship¡ªthey slipped away from the port and sailed back to the Stream. Vayra rose up above the harbour and tried to take in everything. Even if they filled every ship to the brim, they might not have enough, but they had to try. Glade targeted Kalawen first. It had been a long day of fighting and flying, and she had to be running low on mana. So was he, but the Emissary authority still flowed like fire in his veins, and he didn¡¯t feel tired. Each strike she landed felt like a minor thud, like a child¡¯s tap, even though, in reality, his ribs cracked and nearly imploded with each strike. Ameena followed, pointing her staff and keeping a grip on his shoulder, healing each hit and aiding his enhanced body. In a normal case, fighting against Kalawen where her follower sects were concentrated and her mortals were most loyal, Glade wouldn¡¯t have stood a chance. But here, she was weaker than normal. He slashed her knuckles when she tried to punch him in the nose, and his blade left a gash down her side. Glade took the opportunity to attack. He kept close, skimming over the top of the water, and struck at her shoulders or neck. She blocked with Wards, and a Brace of purple energy wrapped up around her legs. With each strike, Glade drove her closer to the port. But if they got too close, she¡¯d destroy the mortals they were trying to save. The mortals empowering Vayra. Even if it wasn¡¯t intentional, the fallout from the impacting strikes was enough to cleave unsuspecting bystanders in half. Shards of purple energy blasted down to the sea, scouring deep trenches in the waves and sending shockwaves through the air. At Glade¡¯s mental command, the swordwyrm raced around Kalawen from behind, pushing her away from the shore. Golden Arcara shone along its blade just the same as along Glade¡¯s own sword, and its strikes bit into her Wards, flinging Arcara and excess mana out across the water. She flung one last technique at him, and his mind shifted, trying to believe the illusion. It wanted to. ¡°Just¡­fade away!¡± Kalawen shouted. ¡°Scum! Enter a world of illusions, and be gone!¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. His surroundings tried to change. The edges of his vision blurred, and his world shifted. But he wouldn¡¯t let fade away. He still had a job to do. Glade drew his arm back, ready to plunge into a set of finishing jabs, but an arm wrapped around his neck from behind, holding him in a headlock. Nilsenir. His hook chewed into Glade¡¯s shoulder. He hoisted a pistol and pointed it up at the side of Glade¡¯s head. ¡°No!¡± Ameena yelled, but Kalawen swatted her away with a heavy backhand. Ameena was only an Admiral. Glade¡¯s eyes widened. Myrrir was nowhere to be seen. Had he been so foolish to think that he, a newly-made Emissary, could face two gods and live? Much less win? Vayra was busy. Myrrir¡¯s body¡­might be far beneath the waves, dead. ¡°If you¡¯d just done as you were told,¡± Kalawen snapped, ¡°we wouldn¡¯t be here. You could¡¯ve faded away into a world of illusions. Maybe I could¡¯ve given you a God-heir or two of mine, for you to do whatever you wanted. You would¡¯ve been rewarded!¡± ¡°Do you want the honours?¡± Nilsenir asked. ¡°Or shall I?¡± ¡°Gloating isn¡¯t prudent. Make it quick¡ª¡± Kalawen gasped, then shouted something unintelligible. The water behind Glade erupted into a plume, and Myrrir shot up the top. He drove his jade sword through Nilsenir¡¯s spine and lungs, and the God yelled. He threw his arms out to the side and fired his pistol wildly. It blasted through the air in a streak of fire, empowered by his techniques, and tore a ship-wide gash in a distant warehouse. The brimming illusion faded from Glade¡¯s mind. Glade whirled around, unthinking, and drove his own sword through Nilsenir¡¯s chest, skewering the god from the opposite direction. Myrrir spun around, and calmly, silently, hacked off the weakened God¡¯s head. ¡°Goodbye, father.¡± Myrrir hung in the air, beds of gunpowder supporting his boots. His chest heaved, and bruises covered his whole body. His left arm hung at an unnatural angle, and a slash ran across his forehead, leaking blood down into his eyes. ¡°I¡ªI¡ª¡± Kalawen narrowed her eyes. ¡°You fight with dishonour and stab a man in the back?¡± ¡°It was not a fair fight to begin with.¡± Glade glanced down, grimacing as Nilsenir¡¯s limp body hit the waves and sank below. ¡°I do not know what the Mediator will do with you, but you have one last chance. I have no lasting grudges against you.¡± Kalawen spat into the water, then charged, aiming a fist at Myrrir. ¡°Better to take one of you down than to die by the hands of a Discarded!¡± Whirling his sword up, Glade deflected the punch and broke the Ward, and Myrrir slashed down, splitting her arm in two with a strike that used the last of his mana. He fell back into the water, but the job was done. Glade sliced off Kalawen¡¯s other arm when she tried to throw a wild punch at him. Two slices¡ªone to break her Ward, and another to sever the limb entirely. She stared at him, disbelief shining in her eyes. With a shout, Glade spun and sliced her head off. Her body tumbled down without grace, then plunged into the ocean with a simple splash and sank beneath the frothy waves. Glade gasped, and almost broke into laughter. Then his own levitation failed him, and he plummeted as well. He fell to the ocean below and splashed into the water, then fluttered his legs and pushed himself up to the surface, then treaded water with his mortal body. His lungs ached, and his gut was sore from cycling. The authority blazed away in his channels, still, and though he willed it to settle, it¡¯d take days at this rate. Besides, he had other concerns. He paddled over to Myrrir and held the half-conscious man above the surface. ¡°I¡¯ll get him to a ship!¡± Ameena shouted, paddling over. ¡°Go help the evacuation!¡± Glade nodded, then submersed himself entirely. When a wisp of Stream water passed through, he absorbed its energy, then drew himself back out of the water. The swordwyrm swirled into place behind him, like it had just sheathed itself on his back. He flew off toward the shore, where crowds of civilians now streamed toward the ships. The bluecoats were nowhere to be seen¡ªeither trampled or killed. Pulling himself up as high as he could, he surveyed the entire wharf, and his new senses picked out Vayra almost immediately. She stood at the start of a pier that led to the the Harmony, beckoning to the mortals to board the ships and nestle in belowdeck. ¡°Vayra!¡± Glade yelled. ¡°Are you alright? Did you destroy Karmion?¡± ¡°He¡¯s dead!¡± she called back, turning to face him. ¡°What about Nilsenir and Kalawen?¡± ¡°Dead,¡± Glade confirmed. ¡°Have you seen any other gods?¡± ¡°None,¡± Vayra said. ¡°No challenges. I hoped they sensed what happened to the others and¡­have taken a hint.¡± ¡°If we do not get out of here,¡± Glade said, ¡°none of that will matter.¡± Already, the full warships and cargo haulers were turning and sailing directly for the Stream. Most would escape before the Ko-Ganall arrived. ¡°We can take a few more,¡± she said. ¡°Come on!¡± When Nathariel felt the winds of the atmosphere on his back, he knew his time was running short. His core was already constricting, about to implode from its overwhelming surge, like a greedy star about to go supernova. If he held on for much longer, his mana would burn out, and he would become a Ko-Ganall more monstrous than any in the horde descending to the world below. Their hammerhead maws bloomed into baskets of flame, and he barely registered the techniques he used to bash them to the side. One slipped through the four Gods¡¯ defence and collided with the outer crust of the planet. It was only a small chunk, but it sent rocky debris raining down on the floating island below. The ships in the harbour were still miniscule, and most had made it away. He no longer sensed Karmion. He still sensed Vayra. He was proud. And now, he knew what he had to do. Chapter 67: Ascension [Volume 4] ¡°We¡¯ve got no more room, Vayra!¡± Captain Pels called from the Harmony¡¯s quarterdeck. ¡°It¡¯s now or never!¡± Flaming rock debris, bone shards, and Ko-Ganall flesh rained down on the interior of the central island. With each impact, the ground shuddered, and the waves in the harbour sloshed higher. Water washed across the wharf, knocking straggling civilians to their feet and dragging them off to the sea. Vayra gaped, and her hands trembled. There were still thousands ashore who wouldn¡¯t get on a ship. ¡°Vayra, either we save what we can, or they all die!¡± Glade yelled. She bit back an angry shout, then sprinted back to the Harmony and leapt to the quarterdeck. Glade followed right behind. They landed near the stern, on a patch of deck where they weren¡¯t about to crush anyone beneath them. Their presences made the mortals around them physically uncomfortable. She didn¡¯t need to be in their minds to see that. Her spiritual power weighed them down and made it hard for them to breathe. She veiled herself, and Glade did the same, restricting their power and lessening the pressure they exerted, but it wasn¡¯t perfect. For a moment, she hesitated. Maybe there was something more. If they rallied all the other Gods, then flew up to the upper atmosphere, maybe they could destroy the horde. ¡®The clash will still destroy the planet,¡¯ Phason¨¦ said. ¡®You know this. Run!¡¯ ¡°Go!¡± Vayra yelled to captain Pels. ¡°To the Stream!¡± Countless eye-covered hammerhead faces burned in the sky, exerting sickening pressure and making her blood run cold. In comparison, the Stream seemed only a faint ribbon. With each impact, it frayed further, until there was nothing left but a single tendril. It was just enough for the fleet to retreat along. At first, the Harmony moved painfully slowly, but the crew dropped all the sails and caught the wind directly, pushing themselves as fast as they could across the planetary waters. In the distance, the remains of the Elderworld battle line tried to form up, but they had been shattered by King Tallerion¡¯s assault. Leaderless, many of the Elderworld ships themselves fled up the Stream. When the Harmony¡¯s bow clunked over a pile of floating flotsam, Vayra looked back. Under the falling, burning sky, a lone figure descended, holding his arms out to the side. Nathariel. Vayra extended her senses and scanned his spirit. It was about to rupture. He was going to let it. He no longer cycled mana to contain it. ¡°Will that¡­kill us?¡± Vayra whispered to Glade. ¡°I do not know, and we should not linger to find out,¡± he replied. ¡®If you don¡¯t get out of the way, he¡¯ll destroy us!¡¯ Phason¨¦ replied. ¡®But his targets, I suppose, are the Ko-Ganall.¡¯ Vayra shut her eyes and winced. A lump built in her throat. ¡®There¡¯s nothing you can do. He¡¯ll die anyway. At least this way, he¡¯ll save many more lives in the sector.¡¯ It didn¡¯t make it sting any less. To quell the sorrow, she asked, ¡°Are Ameena and Myrrir¡­alright?¡± ¡°She said they would find a ship,¡± Glade replied. ¡°I do not know if they succeeded, though I hope they do.¡± As the Harmony ascended the Stream, Vayra ran back to the stern railing, pushing between sailors and rescue civilians. She gripped the wood as tight as she could and watched. They passed the outer surface of the Moon, then ascended far enough that she could see the entirety of its gas giant parent as well. The Ko-Ganall, now unopposed, drilled into the Moon¡¯s surface. If unchecked, they¡¯d destroy the planet and move on, no doubt like they had to many others in their path. No longer could she sense Nathariel. She didn¡¯t need to. At first, it felt as though all the light had been sucked out of the star system. Then a great boom reverberated along the Stream, and blazing white-orange Arcara seared out away from the Shattered Moon in all directions. The sphere expanded, incinerating the Ko-Ganall and blasting away the gaseous outer layer of the Moon¡¯s parent, and it raced faster than the Harmony. Vayra¡¯s eyes widened. The explosion was going to catch up. She Warded the Harmony¡¯s stern, as if it might help. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. But the wave of orange energy slowed the further out it burned, until eventually, it all dissipated, leaving only debris and a diminished husk of the Shattered Moon¡¯s parent gas giant. The Stream evaporated, or collapsed, spewing droplets of spirit water into the void. They froze and tumbled aimlessly. Vayra let go of her breath and leaned on the railing. ¡°Goodbye, Nathariel. I hope you know we succeeded.¡± The planet of Farpoint was as good as any to regroup on. While the fleet and cargo haulers deposited their civilians, and the Velaydian ships made repairs and assessed the damage, Vayra had other matters to attend to. She stood on a grassy field at the top of the shoreline cliffs, watching over the ocean and watching the sun setting behind the fleets. A small crowd formed before her. At the front was a line of the twelve remaining members of the High Pantheon, and behind them stood their most powerful God-heirs. Coats fluttered in the wind, dresses and robes ruffled, and hat plumes swayed. Glade stood a few paces behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Myrrir and Ameena to the side¡ªthey¡¯d gotten off a different ship and found her again after reaching the surface of Farpoint. She wanted to celebrate, to catch them in a hug and thank them, but there was no time. She had to be deadly serious. If the Gods all attacked as one and worked together, they might succeed and kill her, but the most powerful of their number was gone, and the nearby mortals all favoured Vayra. A great number of the High Pantheon would die. None would risk it. For good measure, Phason¨¦ appeared behind her in the ghostly white silhouette form. ¡°You must all ascend to where you belong,¡± she stated. ¡°Whatever¡¯s up there for you¡±¡ªshe pointed to the sky with her thumb¡ª¡°you need to go back.¡± The Gods all glanced at each other, and they mumbled amongst themselves. ¡°I¡¯m not asking,¡± Vayra said. ¡°I¡¯ve been to Harvest Sanctuary. Your powers belong to the realm above, whatever it may be. They¡¯ll twist this realm out of proportion if I let it, and I can¡¯t let it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s to stop us from disobeying you?¡± Vallor asked. He didn¡¯t cycle Arcara yet, but he did step forward, and his eyes gleamed aggressively. ¡°Shall we never descend to live with our heirs, to extend our bloodlines, and make more Gods?¡± ¡°If you descend and take holdings, I will destroy you,¡± Vayra said. ¡°You saw what happened to Karmion.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°That¡¯s not how it was before,¡± said Brann?l. ¡°Daughter, I beg of you. You know what we had before. You know the power we held.¡± ¡°The deal is changing. The galaxy is changing. It won¡¯t be like that.¡± ¡°You benefited greatly from Harvest Sanctuary!¡± Altrous exclaimed. ¡°You think we shouldn¡¯t provide such benefits to our heirs?¡± ¡°They are free to make elixirs and resources. You will not live in this realm, save for short visits. Upon good behaviour, I will tolerate longer visits. You may have more heirs, but the moment you try to dominate and control mortals, I will kill you. Lay a finger on a mortal in anything but self-defence, and I will kill you.¡± The Gods all stared at her, silent, contemplative. ¡°Now go. Ascend. Do what you do, and go back where you came from, before I have to chase you off. You have three weeks to gather your belongings and anyone you want to take with you.¡± The Gods scattered, mumbling angrily and sulking, but none argued with her outright. Maybe it was a little cruel, but they could stand a little cruelty after all they¡¯d done. After a few paces, some of the Gods¡ªnotably Farrir and Altrous¡ªdisintegrated. Their bodies faded away completely, turning into motes of pale blue dust and blowing away with the wind. Vayra turned around when all the gods had scattered, then faced Ameena, Myrrir, Glade, and Phason¨¦. She sprinted forward and caught Glade and Phason¨¦ in a hug together. ¡°Thank you, you two. I¡¯d never have made it this far without you.¡± ¡°Thank you, Vayra, for being an excellent Mediator.¡± Phason¨¦ pressed her ghostly forehead against Vayra¡¯s eyebrows. ¡°It was a pleasure,¡± Glade said, stepping back. ¡°And you two as well.¡± Vayra turned to Myrrir and Ameena. ¡°Rocky start for one of you, hardly know the other. But¡­I think it¡¯s worth thanking you anyway.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be here without you, Vayra,¡± Myrrir said. ¡°And I mean that in the best of ways. I have never felt more whole, more satisfied. If you need my, I will be in the Kamoro system, though I figure when my adrenaline wears off and this all comes to an end¡­my spiritual injuries will catch up with me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going with Glade,¡± Ameena announced. ¡°I have nowhere else to go.¡± ¡°...Go?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°I am a God now,¡± said Glade. ¡°And thus, I must ascend as well.¡± Vayra shut her eyes and winced. ¡°I¡­suppose. I just thought¡­¡± ¡°I will be there,¡± he said. ¡°Wherever I am supposed to be.¡± She exhaled slowly, as if it was the last breath she¡¯d ever take. ¡°You¡¯ll find them again, Vayra,¡± said Phason¨¦. ¡°You will. I promise.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Our power burns quickly. After a few centuries, we will either have died in battle, or be forced to split apart and ascend. By then, you will be a god in your own right, and I will return to the station I once had.¡± Vayra clenched her eyes. A tear still leaked down her face. ¡°I¡¯ll find you again, Glade. I promise. In the heavens, and beyond, wherever that may be.¡± ¡°I am sure you will.¡± He stepped back. ¡°And I will seek you out as well.¡± ¡°Do you know how? To ascend, that is?¡± ¡°There is something pulling on my spirit,¡± he replied. ¡°I cannot explain it. It is begging me up, trying to draw me into the heavens. I am resisting it, and so are the other gods¡­but it takes constant will. I just have to let go.¡± ¡°Alright. Goodbye, then, Balance Man.¡± She offered a small wave. ¡°I¡¯ll see you on the other side.¡± Glade and Ameena interlocked arms, and with an exhale, they both disintegrated into glowing dust, borne up into the sky by the wind. Myrrir walked away in the opposite direction, returning to the shore. ¡°Just us, now¡­¡± Vayra whispered to Phason¨¦. The Goddess nodded. ¡°Just us.¡± Chapter 68: Set Sail [Volume 4] Vayra sat on the edge of the cliff, her legs crossed beneath her, eyes shut. She cried, she laughed, and finally, she stayed perfectly still, dreaming of the future. First, she sailed the Stream on the Harmony, approaching vague, not-yet-seen planets and setting foot on their shores. But there was no detail to the dream; she¡¯d have to do that herself. She¡¯d have to see them with her own eyes. Next, she duelled Admirals and Grand Admirals, fighting off their attempts to claim dominion over swathes of space, entire star systems. There would be chaos after Karmion¡¯s death, and petty dictators would rise all across the galaxy. It was her duty to stop them. But most importantly, she lived. She sat across a table from Phason¨¦, eating a lavish meal, or walked along the shores of an imaginary estate, sipping steaming coffee while waves lapped at their feet. Phason¨¦¡¯s projection had more detail than ever, all the way down to colours and proper volume. There were flashes of the two hugging and laying together, of building a house, of cooking meals and walking and sparring for fun. Washing off in the river, Phason¨¦ combing the knots out of Vayra¡¯s hair¡ªVayra was still otherwise too incapable of it. A few adopted God-heirs scampered around them, who had no parents otherwise. Vayra and Phason¨¦ took care of them. Slowly, the dreams and visions faded, and she opened her eyes tentatively. Phason¨¦ had retreated back inside her, and it was eerily silent. Not even a wind blew across the fields anymore. A half-night had passed, and now, it was morning. The cargo haulers far below had scattered, sailing off to their destination or ferrying survivors back to safe star systems, and many of the Velaydian ships assisted in the effort. But her senses still cried out, not in warning, but just in recognition. Someone was approaching from behind. King Tallerion marched toward her, holding his arms out. A bandage circled his head, and his arm was in a sling, but still no guards or aides followed him. He¡¯d probably ordered them not to. ¡°Congratulations, Mediator,¡± he said. ¡°You are victorious.¡± ¡°There¡¯s¡­still going to be a lot of work to do,¡± she replied. ¡°If we¡¯re going to purge the God-heirs and reestablish a mortal government¡­there will be opponents. There are entire generations raised under Karmion¡¯s rule, who worshiped him. We¡¯ll have to tell them we killed him.¡± ¡°We will.¡± King Tallerion stepped up beside her. ¡°It will take time, and much more blood will be spilled before it¡¯s done, but we will do our best. I trust you will be with us?¡± ¡°Of course. You¡¯ll have my help all the way.¡± ¡°Wonderful. Then¡­we must return to Thronehome. I am sure there will be much to discuss.¡± The Hyovao arrived in the Kamoro system a few days after the battle. Myrrir¡¯s spirit had already began decaying, and he used a walking stick to help him navigate his ship. As they navigated down to the system¡¯s main planet, he marched to the quarterdeck railing and faced the entirety of his crew. ¡°I am leaving this life,¡± he told them. ¡°I am sorry for everything I put this crew through, and I release you all from my service. Please go and live your lives to their fullest. If you need anything from me, I will be here on this very planet, and I¡¯ll do my best to provide it. I appoint Coxswain Darley as the captain, and I wish you all the best of luck.¡± The Hyovao approached the port and circled around until it found a berth. When the ship stopped moving, he climbed overboard and marched across the berth, through the city, and out into the countryside beyond. News of Karmion¡¯s death was only just arriving, and an air of stunned silence hung over everything. No one looked up and spoke to him. None of the travellers along the path to the village made a comment, either. Most of them probably didn¡¯t know, but those who did were obvious. They hung their heads and walked slowly. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. After a few days¡ªmaybe a week; Myrrir wasn¡¯t keeping track¡ªhe arrived in the peaceful valley and approached the Moro-Ka village. Last time he¡¯d entered, it hadn¡¯t been on the best terms, but he would do his very best to make amends and make things right. It was the least he could do. When Glade¡¯s body reformed, he stood on an endless plane of gray ash and dark sky. Mountains stood in the distance, and a weight settled on his shoulders, like gravity had just doubled. There was light, though he couldn¡¯t tell where it came from, and an inky haze obscured the distance. Enormous beasts with four legs and a snake-like trunk capable of winding around their bodies twice over prowled in the distance, and a blocky, wheeled vehicle of some sort trundled along the horizon in the opposite direction. A feeling of immense disorientation ran through his body, and he fell to his knees for a moment. Then Ameena appeared beside him, robes as colourful as ever, and set a hand on his shoulder. He pushed himself back up to his feet, then tightened his fists. There was plenty of distance left to climb, and there were still twelve angry gods out there. He smiled, then, with heavy steps, set off across the endless plain. Vayra scrunched her bangs up into a clump as she walked down one of Thronehome¡¯s port¡¯s piers, groaning and breathing a sigh of relief at the same time. It¡¯d been a few days since she¡¯d returned to the Velaydian administrative capital, and it¡¯d been meeting after meeting. With the Order of Balance, with Parliamentarians, with Lords and Ladies and military advisors, generals and admirals. Finally, she was free. She broke into a run, then jumped up onto the Harmony¡¯s main deck. Pels, Bremi, and a slew of officers stood on deck, staring at her and waiting. ¡°So?¡± Pels asked. ¡°Where are we off to today?¡± ¡°Please be some place cool!¡± Bremi chirped, then apologized softly when one of the lieutenants glared at him. Vayra folded her fingers together and smiled. ¡°It sounds like we have some rowdy God-heirs trying to make a push past Muspellar. I think we could be most helpful there.¡± ¡°You¡­think?¡± Pels asked. ¡°Do we have orders, or¡­¡± ¡°Orders?¡± Vayra¡¯s smile doubled, and she pulled a slip of parchment out of her haversack. The officers and crew visibly deflated for a moment, until she flipped it around and revealed King Tallerion¡¯s seal. ¡°You¡¯ve all officially been released from the navy and reinstated as a freelance crew. No orders are required. We¡¯ll sail where we need, where we want, and do what we need.¡± She handed the slip to Pels, and he read it. The man¡¯s smile grew, and he held it up. ¡°To Muspellar, then! To your posts, boys! Adventure awaits!¡± The crew and officers scattered, nattering jovially among themselves. Pels walked back to the quarterdeck. ¡°Hull status, lieutenant?" ¡°Carpenters report a perfect sailing condition, sir,¡± said Lieutenant McHyll. ¡°All crew accounted for?¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°And the marines?¡± Vayra asked. ¡°We have a full company again, ma¡¯am,¡± McHyll replied, waling with them. ¡°Under sergeants Kertogg and Tressdott.¡± ¡°Captain and Mediator on deck!¡± called the coxswain when Pels and Vayra reached the top of the stairs. ¡°On your word, ma¡¯am,¡± Pels said, ¡°and we raise the anchor.¡± Vayra stepped up to the front railing of the quarterdeck and leaned on it. ¡°Set sail.¡± The End
Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading to the end of the series. As it''s my first series, I know it''s not perfect, but thank you all for sticking to the end. I hope you guys enjoyed all the worlds and characters, and overall, just had a little bit of an escape with the series. For now, there won''t be any new chapters coming up here, but I''ll post updates when the books go live on amazon, and when my next series goes up on royal road. I''ve got a norse-aesthetic cultivation apocalypse with a somewhat weird setting in the works, and I hope that it''ll have similar vibes to this story. Of course, I do have two other books on royal road as well, if you''re looking for something else to read: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/81192/embercore-cultivation-psychic-magic-underdog https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/91190/hyperspace-hunter-isekai-litrpg-deckbuilding-scifi Again, a massive thank you to anyone who read this far! If willing, the first two volumes have been edited and are available on amazon, or if you just want to help out the series, you can find them here: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0D8CW5Z3L Reviews and ratings are the best way you can support me as an author and just help me keep creating worlds and stories like this (though they''re probably gonna get created with or without support anyway...) That''s all for now, though! Stay tuned for more RR releases, which I''ll announce here when they''re ready! ~kwerte/Felix [Announcement] Book 3 is now available on Amazon! Hey everyone! Book 3 in this series is now available on amazon! If you''re interested and want to support the series, you can check it out here! Just in case you''re wondering, this covers the greenhouse arc up until the very beginning of the final tournament arc. Book 4 will still be available to read here for now. Also, for a few days after this notice goes live, book one is up for sale for $0.99. here¡¯s a link for book 1 if you need! If you''re still interested in supporting the story, the best way you can do that is by leaving a review or rating on amazon (especially for book one!) It really helps with the story''s visibility. Book 3 cover: This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. And here''s the blurb for book 3: A god¡¯s abandoned greenhouse, treasures, and more elixir than anyone could dream of¡­ With the Shatter-Sky Tournament approaching in three months¡¯ time, Vayra will need all the resources she can get her hands on. It¡¯s a good thing dead gods leave an impressive fortune behind. When news of Harvest Sanctuary spreads, godborn from all corners of the galaxy flock to this treasure-trove. Vayra and her team must brave the depths of the Sanctuary¡¯s facilities, testing their skills and growing beyond all limits, all while evading the gods¡¯ children and the greenhouse¡¯s terrifying defenses. It¡¯s sink or swim, and with all their futures on the line, they¡¯ll need all the power they can get. Book 1 link (on sale for a few days after this goes up): https://a.co/d/25ETErE Book 3 link: https://a.co/d/5Nh5q8h Also, for a few days after this post goes out (Feb 27, 2025), my second series'' book 1 is up for free on amazon. Embercore: a western cultivation story with deep worldbuilding, animal companions, and a heroic MC. Book 1 link: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DRW2CBCX If that sounds interesting, please consider checking it out! If you''d really like to support my efforts as an author, again, the best thing you can do is leave a rating or review. Thanks for reading, everyone! [Announcement] New RR Story Out Hey everyone! Since Godscourge is now complete, I just want to put an update: if you''re looking for another Royal Road story to read, I''ve started posting my next story on this site. You can find it here: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/108576/fate-alchemist-an-academy-crafting-litrpg It''s a crafting litrpg with an academy setting and an MC who practices alchemy. With...okay, hear me out, some kaiju fights (eventually). Here''s the blurb: When the world ended, Wulf thought he¡¯d finally have peace. That couldn¡¯t be farther from the truth. As a hardened demon-slaying warrior, war and regret were the only things on his mind¡ªright up to his death. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. After making a deal with the System, he wakes up on the grounds of his old academy, forty-one years ago, now with the [Fate Alchemist] class. It randomizes the outcome of his potion crafting, no matter what he does. Still, his new class isn¡¯t without its benefits, and amidst the chaos, he only sees opportunity¡ªto find a perfect balance between a brawling warrior and an alchemist, to travel the world, and to grow stronger than he ever was. And that¡¯ll mean putting a halt to the demon invasions once and for all. But the System has a unique way of throwing a wrench in all his plans, and he might not be the only one with memories of the future¡­ And just in case, here''s one more link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/108576/fate-alchemist-an-academy-crafting-litrpg Thanks for reading, everyone!