Heron carefully observed the five warriors standing amidst the corpses of dozens of Elementals. The glow of their Anima cast a lurid light against the charcoal-black landscape, and it was bright enough that it was difficult to make out their attire from a distance, but as he and Gwendith walked down the hillside, he saw that they were clad in body armour and their faces and heads were concealed behind sleek helmets.
They had faceplates that covered everything, not even having slits for eyeholes. Yet the way they moved and acted, he was sure that they weren’t using their Animas to perceive. For one thing, they kept theirs carefully contained and controlled. One of the masculine-looking warriors took a step forward and his faceplate shifted from completely opaque to completely transparent. Heron would not have noticed its existence if it had not been in the opposite state before. It revealed a young man with heavy jowls, red hair and pale green eyes. Redhead was just a few inches shorter than Heron and was probably as tall, or taller than Yuriko.
The redhead spoke a few words, but Heron didn’t understand them. Redhead frowned for a moment, then reached out with his hand. His Anima stretched out into a tendril even as it kept to the original shape of his body, something Heron couldn’t do himself. Before he could do anything, Gwendith stepped up towards the redhead, extended her hand and narrow tendrils of her Anima. Heron stood back with her arms crossed.
When their Anima tendrils met, the redhead’s twisted in an odd way, and when Gwendith copied the motion he frowned and retracted his tendril. Then he spoke in oddly accented Wojan, “Greetings. You are not Conclave affiliated.” It wasn’t a question.
“Conclave?” Gwendith raised an eyebrow.
“The Conclaves regulate those who dare walk the Ancient’s Way, safeguarding the rest of the world.” The redhead added solemnly, “And those of us who walk the Way and swear by the Conclave of Authority…” He stopped when one of his compatriots touched his shoulder. He cleared his throat, “I must apologise, it is not often that we meet rogue Ancients and especially not those who have already Actualised. I am Nathan Quint, Initiate of the Conclave. These are my Circle.”
Gwendith, who had a neutral expression on her face, nodded. “I am Gwendith Devi Sharine. This is Heron Synka Muryh, and that is Saki Mishala.”
“Cecile Touchard,” the young, Sha’ledras woman with dark chocolate skin, green eyes, and blue hair that was braided in cornrows said as she adjusted her faceplate to go transparent.
“Marie-Claire Costeau,” a human woman with brown hair and eyes, and slightly tanned skin, said. She was a bit shorter than Cecile, who was also five or so inches shorter than Nathan.
“Philippe Portier,” the gruff voice of the shortest, but widest member of their group said. The faceplate turned transparent and revealed a Durandir man whose dark red beard was carefully trimmed and tucked into his helm. His red eyes glared at Heron warily.
“Simone Galois.” The last member of the group wore a faceplate that revealed a blue-eyed blonde human woman. She was just a bit taller than Philippe but was much thinner.
“Well met,” Gwendith said.
“Well met, indeed,” Nathan Quint said ruefully. He cleared his throat, “I did not expect to see anyone of your calibre here in these low-level outlands. May we know your purpose? My Circle is here to prepare for our trials.”
“By hunting elementals?” Heron grunted, playing the taciturn man to Gwendith’s more loquacious persona.
“Yes,” Nathan answered curtly. “The cities of the Shardland exchange cores for other interesting materials.”
“They do, indeed. You’re not from Braxxon Ruin, I take it?” Gwendith said.
“Braxxon? I am unaware,” Nathan said, “But there are a multitude of these cities, spread across this layer alone. Our entry point is the city of Adveria, near a hundred longstrides to the east.”
Heron’s ears twitched at the information. There was far too much to easily parse, so he set about memorising the important bits. There were other Ancients and they were organised. This group was questing to find their path, and if he wasn’t mistaken, they were trying to touch upon an Ennoia so that they could take the World Trials. Why here though? What was in the… outlands that would give them the edge?
Almost all at once, the list of rewards in the city flashed before his mind. There were two possibilities that he could think of, the Truth Fragments or the tower entry token. It was likely the former as opposed to the latter, but there must be a reason why the TET was important and expensive. And it looked like these people would have some answers.
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“You’re hunting for cores to exchange?” Heron offered, and Nathan nodded, along with the rest of the Initiates. “The fragments or the entry token?”
“The fragment, of cour—wait, you said entry token? Not exit token?” Nathan blurted out.
“Yes, he said entry token,” Simone Galois said sharply before stepping up next to Heron. She placed her hands on her hips and asked, “What kind of entry token?” There was a quiet desperation behind her eyes, one that her faceplate and bangs couldn’t hide.
“Tower Entry Token.” It was Gwendith who answered and Heron nodded in confirmation.
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand merits.”
The five Initiates exchanged excited glances and murmurs. They spoke in a different language, but it was one that was familiar to Heron. He didn’t understand it, of course, but he had an inkling that it was close to Old Imperial, or whatever the name of that language that clearly predated the Eternal Empire.
“You…your entry point must be near a Tower,” Philippe muttered.
“You must…” Nathan said before he cleared his throat, “Ah, pardon. I meant, allow us to accompany you back to your Shardcity.”
Heron smirked, while Gwendith said, “Do you have enough merits to exchange the prize?”
“Cities have their own merits, separate from each other,” Nathan said. “In fact, if you hold any merits outside of theirs, you’re treated as a spy or traitor. The Shardcities live and die by the Elemental Cores and the citizens clinging to life cannot leave their cities to venture into the outlands.”
“I see, thank you for telling us that,” Gwendith said.
“You’re welcome.” Nathan continued, “But I must also inform you that rogue Ancients need to come to the Conclave. We don’t know how you came upon your power, whether you followed an old tome, found out in a ruin, or maybe an Ancient’s Manse. But the Conclave will inform you of the pitfalls of the Ancient’s Way. Because if you make a mistake forging your path, not only can you die, but you can bring down and destroy thousands of square leagues with you.” He swallowed nervously, “It is a well-known fact that the Shattering was caused by a wayward Ancient whose greed for power overcame his good sense.”
“If he had any sense to begin with,” Cecile muttered in a low voice.
“The traitor.” The other three said with a curse, “The Anathema.”
Heron met Gwendith’s gaze, and both of them shrugged. It sounded like a Yuriko problem since it was his beloved who brought both of them to the fold. But that wasn’t information he was willing to share. Gwendith wasn’t foolish—the opposite of that, in fact—and Saki is far more concerned about her young mistress’ well-being over her own. None of them would say anything to compromise Yuriko’s choices. And it was evident that it had to be Yuriko who decided what to do. Knowing that there were other walkers of the Ancient’s Way was both enticing and disquieting. Ancients were stronger at the same level than any other method of empowerment, but according to Yuriko, advancement required a lot of esoteric things. Ambrosia aside, she told them that she needed to advance her Ennoia and Colligia in order to take the next step. In the Imperial Path, the move from Knight-Captain to Knight-Commander only needed one to have an Ennoia.
Visiting this Conclave would either give them the knowledge they lacked, the resources they needed, or bring them to harm by competitive rivals.
“We will see,” Heron said.
“Where is the Conclave of Authority located anyway?” Gwendith asked.
“Here and there,” Phillipe said flippantly. “It’s on a city that moves across the prime material as well as the assorted sublayers. The easiest way is to go through a portal hub. Any hub would have an official embassy and you can apply for transport to wherever Adveria City is.”
“Can we not head back with you?” Gwendith asked though Heron was sure she wasn’t serious. Not when Yuriko wasn’t with them.
“Exiting the outlands through the Shardcity’s exit token will return you to where you entered from.” Nathan said, “But we would like to ask a favour. We need the Tower Entry Token…”
“And you’d like us to lead you to Braxxon,” Gwendith finished.
“Yes. We will answer any questions you’d like, and even help gather Elemental Cores so you can get your own token too.”
“The token is not limited?” Heron asked.
“Normally not. But each token can allow entry for a Circle of five.” Nathan said.
“There’s no reason for us to decline, and I would love to learn more,” Gwendith said.
“Thank you! You will not regret it!”
_________________
The Merry Droplets Cafe was dangerous, immoral, and extortionate! Yuriko mumbled when she woke up early a couple of days after their trip to the city. She lost…well, spent nearly ten golds over the last couple of days.
How? Well, chocolate cakes! They were wonderful, mouthwatering, tasty! They also cost nearly a gold for a slice, too. And the most annoying part was that she realised that the amount of chocolate in the cake was much less than what she’d get if she bought a truffle or a bar!
Well, the cake was tasty…
Ah! Chocolate!
Yuriko rolled over and smooshed her face into the pillow and screamed. Once she was over the chocolate withdrawal, she got up, did her morning ablutions, though…come to think of it, she didn’t sweat all that much anymore, and her Radiant energy was a better purifier than soap, too. But she wasn’t about to stop bathing. She loved it too much, and honestly, the habit was actually quite soothing, as though it were an anchor to her otherwise unmoored life…
No, not quite unmoored. She had her place in the academy, and she was with her friends and lover. But the sticking point was that she couldn’t head to Rumiga and get there without spending a century in travel. She couldn’t count on a Chaos storm to bring her to a portal. Perhaps once Devotee was stronger, he could find the secret paths to get to the empire faster.
Once she was done, she headed off for breakfast and found most of Juliette’s family in the dining room. Her grandfather was reading the newspaper while picking at his breakfast, while Juliette was staring out the windows, sighing every now and then.
“Oh, Yuriko,” Juliette muttered when she entered, “Come with me to the city today?”
“Elections?” Yuriko asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t mind. Are you thinking there’s going to be trouble?”
“There always is,” Juan Carlos interrupted, “the Scions are really pushing things.”
“What’s with them anyway?” Yuriko asked.
“They’re the descendants of the original Virtallans,” Juliette’s grandpa said. “As if that mattered now. Over the millennia, people of the four cities have intermingled and interbred. There’s practically little distinction between Virtallans, Nirlithians, Brairdalefolk, and Capital folk now.”
“Hmmm, they kept yelling Virtalla for Virtallans.”
“Which is stupid,” he said bluntly. “All they’re saying is that merchants and traders from other cities shouldn’t trade tax-free. Why shouldn’t they be? We’re all one nation. You don’t tariff internal traders with taxes comparable to outsiders.”
The man continued to rant, and Yuriko ate her breakfast while listening. It was sort of interesting, but it really was about people looking out for their selfish motives, weren’t they? Well, she really had nothing to do with this, so aside from the passing interest, she didn’t really care.
Still, Juliette was supposed to vote today. So after breakfast, she, Sofia, Lucia, Ryoko, and Juliette, took the family carriage and headed to the city.