The Celestial Forge

By: Schin Ka’Tharos

CHAPTER 9

(Part 2)

Our entire world revolves around celestial rain. In a dichotomous dance, it is both the rarest and most desired substance and the most common and ubiquitous of commodities, intertwined throughout every part of our societies. You most assuredly know this, as I am confident that if you are of the age with the ability to read this, then you will already have an appreciation for the significance the celestial manna plays in Ga’el.

Yet, it is the most significant things, given any level of commonality, that can become a hidden knife to our throats, a danger unappreciated. It is the simple minded that forgets the danger that is embodied in the familiar.

I was this fool. After a Forger consumes Celestial Rain the essence stored within is released in the initial assimilation as it is soulforged. This outflow of power acts like a beacon, pulsing into the surrounding land. Like fresh meat thrown in front of starving predators, I had made myself an irresistible indulgence to any person or creature in the surrounding area.

I was completely vulnerable and unprepared.

Dread overtook me and disrupted my hold on the Heart of the Five Foundations . I struggled to wrestle some semblance of control before my flow lines burst and destroyed me from the inside. My will held by a tenuous thread as my thoughts searched frantically for a solution to my situation.

The tower.

It was my one beacon of hope, but it stood nearly a mile from where I had sat down next to the Falling Jade Tree. I cursed myself for not thinking through the assimilation more thoroughly, I should have proceeded only within the safety of the tower.

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When Grandfather visited the tower he desired his time there to be peaceful, so he had placed protective barriers in the lands around the tower that would keep any Forger or creature above the power of an adept from coming within a dozen miles of the tower. He hadn't bothered warding anything below that Rank since the natural instincts of any being below adept would force them away from his presence and the tower.

I knew the barrier still held, for if my pursuers were beyond Adepts my blood would have already painted the ground.

I stood and bolted towards the safety of my citadel. Despite the manna’s threatening pressure I was able to maintain my soulforging technique and keep my flow lines moving. Unfortunately it’s efficiency and effectiveness was severely impacted and a distant part of my mind grieved the unknowable amount of essence that was slipping through my fingers. How many days or years worth of natural essence gathering was I losing every second?

My joints and muscles ached from my run. I sprinted at my peak speed and tried to push beyond even that. I was tempted to switch my forging technique to help bolster my physical output now that my 4th flowline system was opened but I knew that decision would be disastrous and would almost assuredly end with my death as I hadn’t finished the initial stage of manna assimilation from the celestial rain.

The vivid colors of the garden streamed by me unnoticed. My single focus was the looming crimson spiral that safeguarded my future.

My tower, my Atonement.

Any hope that I would reach the tower in safety was ripped from me along with a chunk of my left shoulder. At first my mind couldn’t register what had transpired, I spun to face the dark shape that had leapt from the foliage. I tried to raise my hands as I turned in a defensive posture but realized only my right had responded. My left shoulder was a tangle of loose flesh, blood and misplaced muscle. The creature had clawed or bitten me as it flew past.

I was critically wounded before the fight even began.

Before me, my sinew hanging from its mouth and three eyes like burning coals meeting mine, stood a Shadefire Red-Clawed Jackal.

A low cackle seeped from its maw, joined by a chorus of laughter surrounding me, and as the volume rose, so did my despair.

Next Chapter...

Part (3)