Tunde woke again to the soft hum of a sky vessel he was now familiar with, finding himself in quarters he was unfamiliar with. Rather than the painful feeling of broken bones he was used to, overwhelming tiredness saturated his very body, bone-deep exhaustion came from within that he could only croak. The shuffling of a body to his left drew his attention as he struggled to turn his head.
“Tunde, you’re awake, thank the hegemons” the calm but tired voice of Isolde said from his side, her eye-patched face looking down over his.
Relief flooded his body at the realization that she was alive, swallowing painfully with a cracked smile on his face. she helped him sit up, his back against the metal wall of the vessel as she gave him a leather skin to drink from. Energy-infused Ethra tasted in the water with a sweet tang as he guzzled it.
“Easy, elder Joran said to sip it little by little,” she said again.
Tunde paid little to no attention to her warnings, his body drinking the energy like dried ground, gratefully absorbing every ounce of the energy-infused water. Wiping his lips with a deep sigh as he shuddered, eyes shut, he took a few seconds to get his bearings before clearing his throat, opening his eyes to see the sleeping form of Draven with a white cloth bandage wrapped around his midsection and chest.
“What happened?” he asked softly, still feeling weak.
Isolde reclined backward on her knees, sighing as she tightened her fists together, her one good eye closing sharply before she spoke.
“After we left the tunnels, we were attacked by Corespawns and rift creatures, it was madness, the rage with which they attacked, and the tier 2 Corespawn,” she said with a shudder.
Tunde furrowed his eyebrows together.
“Tier 2?” he asked.
He had faced two, and to be honest, what he thought were the only two, he could only imagine what they had gone through. Isolde nodded.
“Some sort of bird-human hybrid, really strong, Draven had to use a berserker elixir to subdue it, barely survived as it is,” she said with a sad smile.
Tunde swallowed heavily.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“For what?” Isolde asked.
“I should have realized that sending you out into the surface would see you meeting trouble” he replied.
Isolde snorted.
“Look at you, acting all high and mighty like high-ranking disciples of jade peak,” she said.
Tunde kept quiet at that comparison.
“And for the record, those disciples could care less, in fact, no one cares if you live or die, not if you have something tangible to offer them or their fates are somehow tied to yours,” she said after a few seconds.
“Still, we were a team, and I’m glad you’re alive,” he said.
“a few seconds after we fought the tier 2 and we could have been dead had it not been for Elder Moros,” she said.
Tunde inwardly sighed in gratitude that his assumption had been correct, his absence from them had spurred the elder to help them.
“Where was he when you were fighting the tier 2?” he asked curiously.
Had the elder simply hung back and watched them?, thinking of it, he guessed it was something the elder could in fact do.
Isolde shook her head.
“No, at least, not that I think of it, I doubt it” she replied.
“We were on our way to find both him and the ship when we came across the Corespawn, probably our clashing Ethras drew his attention at the same time it drew the rift creatures and lesser Corespawns as well” she explained.
“at least we survived,” Tunde said softly.
“That and more,” Isolde said, eyeing him with a soft smile.
“You killed a tier 3 Corespawn, as a disciple, the news is spreading like wildfire across the ships of the clan, no doubt news has reached Petal Street and Jade Peak as a whole,” she said, her voice filled with admiration.
“Technically, it wasn’t a tier 3, just some tier 2 boosted with the rift core of a tier 3 rift,” Tunde said wearily.
Isolde nodded.
“That may be true, but that doesn’t remove from the fact that you won, and right in the faces of most of the adepts of the clan as well as lord Alaric himself,” she said, the latter part in an excited whisper that carried as much dread as well.
Tunde’s heart lurched when he heard that part, the lord of the clan himself, just not the lord he had been hoping to impress. He knew little about Alaric, but Lirien?, that woman scared the ever-living Ethra out of him, but at the same time, her words gave him a sense of drive as well. He gave a soft smile, raising his arms and feeling the soreness from them, something not even the revitalizing water could solve.
“we’re heading home?” he asked, feeling odd that he now considered Jade Peak a sort of home.
“no” he realized to himself.
Not Jade Peak, Petal Street, that was home, red blossom even though he might have just been there for a few weeks now was home to him. Isolde nodded.
“Yes, you’ve been asleep for more than a day, we’re close to the city itself” she replied.
“More than a day?” he said in shock.
Resonance had taken much more out of him than he had hoped it would, full body resonance, something that had been as dangerous as it was as lethal. His arms spasmed as the faint feeling of resonance went through him with the thought of it, he took a deep breath, sighing as he rubbed his eyes. The door to the quarters opened, elder Joran entering at the head of three servants carrying platters of food, Isolde got up awkwardly. Bowing to the elder in silence, Tunde struggled to get up when the elder raised his hand.
“Reserve your strength, disciple Tunde,” he said softly.
“Your body deserves it after that technique you pulled yesterday” he added.
Tunde quietly sat back, nodding in silence, Joran turned to Isolde.
“how’s Draven coming along?” he asked.
“Better venerable elder” she replied stiffly.
Tunde wondered what had transpired between her and the elder, Joran nodding briskly as he spoke.
“You may leave us, we have much to discuss, but I wish to talk to my student in private,” he said.
The servants took that as their cue to drop the food with them next to Tunde, bowing to him before leaving just as quietly as they had appeared, the door closing behind them with a click. Tunde suddenly found the room a bit too tight with the presence of the elder looming over him, his blindfolded face a mask that shielded his real visage from him.
“This student greets his teacher,” Tunde said softly, his stomach growling, breaking the tense situation.
“Eat, your body requires its nourishment after what you pulled yesterday” elder Joran said lightly as he sat in front of him.
The first bite was awkward, but as the rich flavors of whatever had been used in cooking the tier 3 fish burst in his mouth, Tunde found himself stuffing his mouth full of the platter, his body readily absorbing it just as quickly as a bonfire.
“You can absorb rift Ethra,” elder Joran said, Tunde pausing.
Glancing up at the elder who nodded as he continued.
“It took me a while to realize, and I’m surprised you haven’t realized it as well, but your affinity, it has traces of rift Ethra within it” the elder continued.
Tunde dropped the bone of some creature he had crunched in two.
“Rift energy?, it’s from the relic, I mean I can absorb it, but” he said pausing, unsure of what to say.
He wasn’t sure if the elder was disappointed in him for not revealing it, but the words hung in his throat.
“That relic, whatever that thing is, can manipulate rift Ethra, I believe that’s what you’re trying to say, right?” Joran asked as Tunde nodded silently.
“That may be, besides, it’s something I’ve always suspected,” Joran said.
“But rift Ethra, or energy as you call it, is as much a blessing as it’s a curse” he continued.
“See, naturally, rift Ethra, I mean pure untainted rift Ethra, nourishes the environment around it despite its presence drawing on the robust Ethra around, a two-way agreement between nature and rifts you could say” Joran explained.
“Summoned rifts, as Isolde described the rifts you encountered are another matter entirely,” the elder said, pausing.
“They are unnatural, man-made, and an aberration to reality and nature, forced into existence, their Ethras or energies tainting reality around, acting as a sort of slow poison for rankers around and nature,” he said.
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“Rumor states that was how the wastelands were formed, but no who one was alive then, with exceptions to maybe the hegemons or regents, are alive to tell us if that is true or not, so we can never tell” he continued.
“The bandits and barbarians use Ethra in the wastelands,” Tunde said.
“Precisely why I don’t believe that theory, or maybe over the countless centuries, the taint vanished, leaving a wasted landscape, Anyway, you get the point?” Joran asked as Tunde nodded.
“It was why Isolde and Draven would need to purify their bodies as soon as we get back to jade peak, prolonged presence of rift Ethra in the body could damage a ranker’s future advancements,” the elder said.
“Now, despite me shielding us in my Ethra, what I’m about to say still has to be said in a whisper," Joran said.
Tunde lurched forwards, surprised that he hadn’t felt the Ethra of the elder, attempting to activate Ethra sight had him groaning as his eyes ached.
“Your body is recovering from your excessive draining of its Ethra reserves, you would be foolish to strain it more” Joran said as Tunde barely nodded.
“The theory given by the healers to lord Alaric is simply the fact that you expelled every iota of Ethra within your body with that last attack and as a result, expelled the Ethra taint rather forcefully as well,” Joran said.
“While I’m glad that you managed to escape scrutiny, the verdict is that you’ll be resting at petal blossom in preparation for your duel that comes up in a week and some days, not that you’ll be resting, will you?” the elder asked.
Tunde wasn’t sure if it was rhetorical, but he grabbed a piece of meat.
“The Corespawns were strong, but I’m guessing Thalas is stronger?” he asked.
“Without whatever shenanigans the revenants pulled last minute with the Corespawn leader, Moros’s words were disturbing,” Joran said.
“Then yes, there’s a reason you were sent and not Rhyn or any of the top-ranking disciples, although, aren’t we glad that happened?” Joran finished with a smile.
“Then I’m still miles away from his strength” Tunde concluded.
“Arguably, what Thalas has over you was battle experience and a slight difference in strength and skills” Joran replied.
“And Rhyn?” Tunde asked.
“don’t push your luck, you’d be diced to perfect cubes before you could even hope of using resonance,” Joran said with a chuckle.
Tunde nodded, he knew that already, but hearing it being confirmed from the elder was what he needed. He dropped the meat, cleaning his hands on his robes as the elder stared at him.
“I want to beat him,” he said.
“Logically, that’s what we’re after” Joran replied.
“No, not Thalas, Rhyn, I want to get strong enough to challenge him,” Tunde said softly.
Elder Joran kept quiet, a slow-spreading smile coming over his face as Tunde took it as his cue to continue.
“I don’t care how, I want to get strong enough to challenge the best clan Verdan has to offer, disciples I mean,” he said, quickly adding the last part.
“you’ve come far from that timid thing that stepped foot on jade peak, but you’re not far enough, and you know it too, good,” Joran said with a nod.
“Barring the extensive investigation that’s going to go into Thorne when we return, seeing as it’s the same revenants whom he claimed not to have ties with that attacked us, you and I are about to go through the most hectic training you’ve had till date” Joran added.
“You think he’s linked to the attack?’ Tunde asked.
“a revenant turns up and suddenly we get attacked from the wastelands by Corespawns with revenant backing?, even a blind man such as myself can see the link” Joran replied.
Tunde nodded, there was nothing he could do as regards that, only hope that Thorne was able to prove himself innocent.
“Till I say so, no use of your Ethra, you’re an invalid till you go through the purification process kindly sponsored by the clan and I go collect our rewards for your completion of the mission,” Joran said.
“Does that mean House Dark Fist has been approved?” Tunde asked.
Joran nodded slightly.
“But that’s beside the point, your ability to absorb and manipulate rift Ethra, explain it to me,” the elder said.
And Tunde did, the entire process of the Ethra imbuing his body, and as a substitute for Ethra-based attacks, elder Joran rubbed his beards at the end of the tale.
“Your affinity just seems to get more and more shady the stronger you grow,” he said with a sigh.
“Even among the unorthodox sects, only the revenants and envoys seem to have some sort of immunity against the taint of rift Ethra, and your affinity doesn’t carry the stench nor chilling feeling of undeath and death Ethra respectively” Joran continued.
“And yet, I can’t help but shake off the feeling that it’s related to rift Ethra in some way or form, and to think you’ve been solely fighting with the strength of your body and your peculiar resonance form that seems to either disintegrate or make whatever you target disappear” the elder finished.
Tunde adjusted himself where he sat.
“You believe I use rift affinity?” he asked.
“Either that, or your affinity is a concept in which case, the hegemons really smiled down on me, but I doubt it, no” Elder Joran said.
“Either way, we’ll know if you get to adept rank and begin the process of Ethra bestowment” he completed.
“Till then, we’ll work with what we have and what we can get,” he said.
Arms folded, elder Joran got up, Tunde watching him in silence.
“Rest Tunde, you’ll need it for the coming days,” he said before leaving Tunde to himself in the room.
Clearing what remained of the food and laying back down on the soft bed he had been on, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He had survived the mines, he had done the impossible, and yet, he would be expected to do more seemingly impossible things, he opened his eyes, staring at the void ring on his finger, where numerous tier 1 Corespawn cores sat, two tier 2 core spawn cores and two rift cores as well occupied its space.
He smiled to himself, anticipation of what came next on his mind.
******************************
Adept Kenji of the revenants knelt on the plain grey floor of the room he was in, head bowed as he awaited the verdict from the figure whose back faced him. His lower half aching as it regrew slowly, the constant stream of pure undeath Ethra that made up the entirety of the realm they were in pouring into his form, cleansing him of the foreign Ethra that had seized him before he had been rescued by the lord in front of him.
Shivering slightly, he could feel the thousands of eager creatures of undeath baying silently just outside the doors of the room he was in, looking for a way to devour his form. To suffer any form of weakness in the realm of undeath was to be food for others, Kenji knew that from the time he was an initiate, and yet, never in his three centuries of existence did he ever think that he’d be brought low like this.
By a blind adept again.
Bitterness warred with rage within his mind, and yet, he was as still as a rock in the face of the lord before him. This was the necropolis of the revenant cult, their home within their rift realm, a place where the sickly green glow of undeath Ethra had permeated the air, casting an unsettling hue upon the landscape. The ground within the rift pulsed with the unnatural Ethra of undeath, and skeletal vegetation twisted around jagged rocks, creating an eerie silhouette against the dimly lit sky.
The architecture of this spectral realm was a grotesque fusion of materials. Towering spires, ashen and skeletal, pierced the horizon. Archways, contorted and twisted, created an unsettling visual dance across the desolate landscape. The structures, fashioned from obsidian, bone, and shadows, stood as haunting monuments to the unholy union of the living and the undead.
Labyrinthine catacombs sprawled beneath the surface, guarded by fleshy skeletal sentinels. Ethereal wisps meandered through the air, carrying with them the haunting whispers of lost souls. Massive specters, remnants of ancient beings, drifted through the shadows, embodying the very essence of the Necropolis.
At the heart of the necropolis itself stood a grand mausoleum looming over the vast landscape, its spires reaching towards the heavens like accusing fingers. The air buzzed with a mysterious resonance as if the very fabric of the realm was alive. The Necropolis, a place where life and death merged into a somber tapestry, each element contributing to the morbid allure of this otherworldly domain.
The lord stirred, Kenji burying his head on the ground in silence, none of this had been his plan, but the failure was his to present, and that bit at Kenji more than the shame of his state. Even as the Ethra of undeath waxed and waned with the presence of the lord, empowering him the more, Kenji swallowed nervously.
“Do you understand the situation we’re now in, Kenji?” the lord said softly.
To answer was to be relieved of his head, Kenji wisely kept shut.
“Not only do I have to report the shame of your loss to the elders of the sect, but the considerable resources thrown into making a bridge to Bloodfire continent have now been wasted in a misguided effort, seemingly on my part to take the continent first,” the lord said.
Kenji felt him turn, the gaze of his direct master on him.
“And you come with tales of a seeker of a cult continents away, who by the way last I heard, were known as keepers, not seekers,” the lord said as Kenji looked up sharply, into the fathomless back gaze of the lord.
“Keepers?” Kenji whispered.
“Keepers, not seekers, a mistake I find filling the lore books wherever I go,” the lord said.
Kenji bowed deeply again.
“But my lord” he started.
“The relic, its power, it burned with the power of rifts,” Kenji said, urging the lord to see his point.
A frown was his reply.
“Did you for once think, that the Heralds could have someone within the ranks of the clan?” the lord said frostily.
Kenji’s mouth moved without words coming from it.
“The Heralds responded to our move in the wastelands, did you think they’d leave it undefended a second time?” the lord continued.
“And now, they know of our influence, you can expect this surge to be quite risky for all factions involved” the lord finished.
Kenji shuddered at the aura of the lord pressing down on him.
“Thankfully, they have no idea of our true goals, something you somehow didn’t mess up, else you’d be nothing but flesh meal for the creatures of this realm,” the lord said softly.
“But lord, it wasn’t my plan,” Kenji said weakly, groaning under the aura of the lord.
“Indeed, you didn’t ask for this, but you were chosen for your capabilities,” the lord said.
“Something I now find severely lacking, nothing but a stain to my honor, hear me, Kenji” the lord continued, his voice a force of power itself.
“The surge is upon us, forces that have laid dormant for a decade are once again moving, the plans of the regent himself are a mystery to us, and yet, we have all been assigned roles,” he said.
“The artificers seek the same thing we do, or at least, so the high lords say, we cannot let this opportunity pass us by, wait for my signal this time Kenji,” the lord said.
“What are we going to do?” Kenji asked softly.
The lord sighed, folding his arms behind his body as he began walking towards the doors, the baying noises coming from outside quieting down as they felt the presence of the lord.
“The rankers of Bloodfire have grown lax, they forget what it feels like to go against the cult of undeath, perhaps it’s time to reintroduce ourselves to the younger generation” he completed, the doors opening of their own accord before closing behind his frame.
*********************
By the time the sky vessel arrived at Jade Peak City, Tunde could move around comfortably, feigning slight weakness as he was shepherd to the healer’s building on orders of the lord himself. Along with Isolde and Draven who had woken from his coma, his body frail and tired-looking, they had gone through the cleansing process sponsored by the clan itself. Feeling his body swallow the healing properties of the bubbling bath, Tunde reclined deep within the wooden tub, allowing his body to back in the glow.
He felt like a new man when he left the building, Isolde and Draven going ahead of him, something about an urgent business they had to settle. Tunde given orders to meet with elder Joran in the blacksmith district, made his way through the throngs of people that filled the streets of the inner districts, stares being shot his way. The respect he felt coming from those gazes struck him as odd, for where they viewed him before with caution bordering on disdain, now it held nothing but the utmost respect for him.
Stopping at the entrance of the smithing district, he took a deep breath, calming his nerves as he began making his way deeper, past the numerous shops and towards the iron wolf itself. Hands tucked into the pockets of his robes, he sighted Elder Joran in the distance, standing right in front of the forge’s doors in silence, people bowing as they passed him by. The elder had disappeared the moment they had gotten to Jade Peak City itself, going to report to Lady Lirien. He had wanted to come along but had been convinced otherwise of such an endeavor.
He bowed at the elder.
“You look better now,” Joran said.
“The purification process helped” Tunde replied.
“That and your body greedily absorbing the resources, I’m surprised you didn’t go through another tempering, not that your body needs it anyway,” Joran said.
Tunde nodded, eyes going to the doors.
“Is he within?” he asked softly.
“I should hope so, how else are we going to get a refund for the sham of a gauntlet he gave you?” Joran replied.
“What?” Tunde asked, confused.
“Vengeance, or whatever he called them, those aren’t adept ranked weapons, peak disciple, or tier 2 at best,” Joran said.
Tunde produced the worn weapons from his void ring, staring at the mangled form as he furrowed his brow.
"Artificer Borus owes us an explanation, respectfully,” Tunde said, his voice a whisper of anger.
Elder Joran chuckled, opening the door of the forge, the hot air blowing out, warming the air around them.
“Indeed, he does” he replied as they entered.