It did not take long for the army to drag the palace inside of the massive chamber at the base of the Citadel. Despite having dragged the monstrous construction for what had to be many leagues, the members of the Legion did not show any signs of fatigue. I wondered what stage they were at; it was my understanding that the Core stage was the average for the world at any given time, but I had my doubts that this was true for a standing army, though it was difficult to imagine thousands of people running around at the Foundation stage. I’d ask Walker about it, along with all the other questions I had accumulated since my initial departure.
There came a collection of oddly melodic chinks, followed by heavy thuds, as the Legion released the chains they had been using to pull the golden palace. The snap of a thousand metal clad fists against metal breastplates followed as the army - as if a single being – parted into two sides, each turning to face the centre and dropping down to one knee.
The group of us watched the spectacle in silence, though I did note that the Apexes looked kind of bored by the whole thing. A moment of silence hung as the vast, many tiered doors of the Citadel closed without a sound, but as they finally came to rest, trumpets blared with a suddenness that made me twitch. I saw a door open at the top of a set of stairs leading down to the edge of the platform on which the palace rested, and a figure stepped out to walk slowly down them.
“Does she need to do this every time?”
Jorl sounded impatient and as I glanced at him, he began tapping his foot against the dark stone of the floor. None of the other Apexes replied, clearly having heard the complaint before.
Even I was getting impatient by the time the figure reached the bottom of the stairs, and with a metallic sound like clockwork, the path extended down to reach the ground.
“Announcing the High Paladin of Weilou, who holds Dominion over Star. The Right Arm of Justice, Eye of Assessing, and Holder of the Scales: Chian Jilow, Apex of The Sun’s Judgement. May she guide eternity!”
“Wait, that’s not her? And she has... an announcer?!”
“That is Chian’s herald. She is there.”
Walker pointed and I followed his gesture back to the top of the stairs to see another figure making their slow way down them, though this one was followed by two others. The figure my dark mentor was pointing at in the fore was clad head-to-toes in glowing golden armour, with a long equally golden cape following them down the steps. She did not appear to be tall, though it was difficult to judge against the palace, but she certainly made an impression. Of a kind.
The three descending figures reached the base of the stairs, but stopped just short of the stone floor and the trumpets sounded again, a rising chorus that made it sound like something momentous had happened. But nothing had. Or did. For a long minute, our two groups stood in silence, apparently each waiting for the other to do something.
“Chian, we’re not coming over there! You’re a guest in Raaf’s house, you come over here!”
A grumbling came from the kneeling mass of soldiers, but from our group I heard only faint sniggers, though I could not quite determine which of the Apexes they came from.
Another second or two passed before the figure in golden amour finished their descent and began to march between the soldiers towards us, her pace markedly faster than it had been, but still only a walk. I could tell from the way she moved that she was pissed at Jorl’s shouted comment, at least, I thought she was; it was difficult to tell beneath so much metal.
Finally reaching us, I saw that I had been right, she was about the same height as Darina, give or take an inch or two for the plate. Coming to a reset a few feet away from our group, the Apex of the Sun’s Judgement stood with hands on hips and spoke through her helmet, giving her voice a metallic resonance that I found quite effective, from an authoritative standpoint.
“Jorl, you pig’s anus; you couldn’t give me some face in front of my army? Just once?”
“It’s not my fault you always show up with so much nonsense. If I was coming to you, I’d come to you. But you come to us and still want us to come to you!”
“I have an image to maintain! I have to be Weilou’s instrument! Are you the instrument of a god, or are you a pig’s anus?!”
“Weilou can’t interfere, you’re just doing whatever you want – like making people drag your ass around the world – in his name.”
“He gave me his divine flame as an Exemplar! I am his will, manifest!”
“Yeah, yeah. So you say. It’s not like we can verify it, can we?”
“It is a matter of faith! You will apologise or I will chal-”
“No, you will not. You will both apologise. This behaviour is that of children, not Apexes.”
The voice was quiet, but hit almost like a physical blow, the tone hard and sharp. Chian and Snowblinder looked at Bo Ai’Rong for a moment before turning back to each other and mumbling apologies, like they were the children they had been accused of being.
That was when I noticed that the pair had followed her again, because they seemed to be quivering in rage, their faces red masks of anger. The left-most of the pair was about my height, but almost frail looking, as much as that was possible given the effects of cultivation. He wore a strange half-robe that draped down half of his body while the other was covered in a simple shirt and pants of some bronze looking material. He had white hair and brown eyes, which he was using to alternately glare at Jorl and Bo Ai’rong.
The other figure, on the right was a girl in her late teens with black hair tied into a tight braid that was wrapped around with cord and draped down over a breastplate the same colour as her companion’s shirt. She was stocky and broad-shouldered and her bare arms were well muscled. She was glaring as well, but not specifically at anybody, instead choosing to share her ire amongst us. When her gaze met mine, I offered a small wave, which she did not seem to appreciate.
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“I see you have brought company, Chian. Have you perhaps followed Walker and Sonja in selecting apprentices?”
“I follow no-one but Weilou, Raaf. But yes, I have chosen to train these two as my hands, as I am His hand. They lack the divine fire, and yet their flames burn hot. They will serve Justice well in places I am not. This is Kestin the Undying Flame,” The Apex gestured at the guy with white hair, “and Toria the Fire Weaver.”
The two offered perfunctory bows to the other Apexes, but said nothing.
“This is Reff, the Mountain’s Rage and Riffa, the Walking Sand. My brother and sister.”
The siblings dropped steep bows and spoke in unison.
“With pleased gratitude, it is an honour to meet you, Most Honoured Apex of the Sun’s Justice.”
It was the first time I had heard the two of them addressed in that way; I knew it was kind of a thing that people gained nicknames, and not just amongst Apexes, but it seemed fairly rare for them to be used. I winced internally when I realized that I was going to be the only apprentice present that did not have a fancy nickname.
“Darina, the Ever Flowing, my apprentice is named.”
“It is my great honour to be presented to you, Most Honoured Apex of the Sun’s Judgement!”
Darina’s bow, as always was sharp, almost aggressive as if she was trying to do a flip without moving her legs.
“... And this is Hunter.”
“Nice to meet you, your most honouredApexness.”
I dropped a bow of my own, though I will be the first to admit that it was not the deepest or most heartfelt I had ever given. The Chian Jilow really seemed to be something of an asshole, easily the least personable Apex – or otherwise – I had met, and that included the guy who kidnapped me to another world. It even included the one that had tried to kill me.
Rising from my bow, I noticed Kestin and Toria now directing their glares at me exclusively, so I offered another wave, not sure what the protocol was. I was half-certain I should be glaring back at them and starting a rivalry, but I had enough of that in Darina.
“This one is not even at the Path stage of advancement? I know you are young, Walker, but I did not think you so lax.”
“No, I am. Just haven’t got a nickname yet. I’ve only been cultivating a few months. No big deal.”
Of course, I knew that advancing as fast as I had was in fact a pretty big deal. It was a hidden benefit of literally everything being new and fantastic to me, as well as maybe being affected my Lucky ability. But this Apex’s attitude was pretty annoying, and I was not about to let her badmouth the man that had likely saved me from fairly automatic death. Even if back-talking an Apex with a proven record of being an ass was not particularly conducive to long life.
“A few months? We have ourselves a prodigy then. Perhaps you could demonstrate with my apprentices, and we can try to think of a suitable name for you?”
The two behind her looked eager, by which I mean they both looked like they wanted to tear my eyes out and swallow them.
“Two does not seem sporting, despite Hunter’s survival instincts.”
Walker’s voice was dry and I could feel his attention flicker to me like a flick to the nose.
“I will fight one of your apprentices, Most Honoured Apex, while Hunter fights the other, if this is acceptable?”
Darina spoke up beside me, and I glanced over; she looked eager, though she lacked the same, ‘I hate you’ expression she had worn when she had challenged me. She was a real pain to fight, able to push through almost anything, and this was probably a good opportunity for her to show that she – and thus her master – was above the Apex that had been giving lip. In reverence she may hold Apexes, but she certainly reserved the lion's share of it for the Apex of the Mending Flesh.
“Fine. Shall we take this outside?”
I had not agreed yet, but that did not seem to matter as everyone started walking towards the giant doors, which opened at their smallest size to allow egress. When Darina had challenged me, I had been told that refusing was not really done, but this had not been an official challenge, but rather something suggested by another. Though, perhaps suggestions from Apexes carried somewhat more weight than ones from an average person.
By the time we made our way out of the Citadel's megastructure, night was well fallen, and the light I remembered danced across the dark sand like a terrestrial aurora. Rather than forming a circle, the group simply stopped a few hundred feet from the tower. Accepting that the fight was happening with resignation, I was about to ask who was going first when Darina stepped out into the open, followed by Kestin.
The two opponents stood a shirt distance apart, bowed and dropped into defensive stances. For Kestin, that seemed to be an elaborate dance-like process, while Darina looked more like she was getting ready for a hundred-meter dash.
“This match is to surrender or incapacitation. Any attempt at mortal strikes or permanent injury will be prevented.”
The words came from the Apex of the Unfettered Frame and were spoken with enough force that I was sure he could be heard back in the Sha Forest. He did not seem pleased, and the way he said, ‘prevented’ lead me to believe that the process would be unpleasant for anybody involved.
“Fight.”
Fire exploded out from Kestin, a yellowish brown that seemed almost a liquid. Whatever the stuff touched was left in flames, and it showed no sign of going out, which I supposed explained his name. Darina had not wasted any time though, and even as the circleof brown flames shot out, she was already there, the sickly substance coating her from head to foot as she began to punch him in the face. The smell of the flames was oddly chemical, though that was soon joined by the retch-inducing sweetness of burning flesh as my friend’s body began to crisp and break beneath the sticky inferno. The punches to his face stopped, Kestin leapt back, wiping blood from his cheeks and chin and he smiled, clearly thinking he had won. But Darina was harder to stop than that.
Emerging from the flames as a mass of roiling meat, the terrifying mass flexed and flowed until my diminutive friend appeared once more, still aflame but seeming not to care as her body simply repaired itself, ignoring the flames once she was past the initial shock. Unprepared for a second attack from somebody that should have been crispy, Kristin was caught flatfooted as Darina smashed her head into his before grabbing hold of his robe to do it again and again, until each was covered in blood and Kestin lay unconscious and broken in the now dark sand, the flames fading with his consciousness.
Turning to Walker slightly, I leaned in and whispered, despite knowing it was useless around so many Apexes.
“Walker, that fire would have killed anybody else, why didn’t the fight get stopped?”
“It was a defensive action, into which Darina chose to charge. If he had simply used it on her directly, it would have been stopped. This is not an ability that should be used for sparring. I do not know what Chian was thinking.”
I knew what she was thinking, or at least I thought she did. Maybe a little more respect had been called for...
“Heal him, I will. Darina is fine.”
Sonja offered Darina a hug on the way out to drag Kestin back to the group. I glanced over to look at the Sun’s Judgement to see her face a mask of cold indifference, but her eyes looked furious. She had expected Kestin to win that match, and I could see why. Against many, he would have been a real challenge.
As Darina reached my side again, I offered her a thumbs up, which she rolled her eyes at, but returned. Reff and Riffa both congratulated her, but my eyes were drawn out to another figure walking into the dark of the heated sand.
“Right, well. I guess it’s my turn...”