The wooden dummy crashed against the wall even as Marron whirled to the next one. He drove his heel into the floor and he struck, sending the second target flying next to the first. He kept at it, spinning and punching, even kicking once in a while. The training room kept popping up targets every time he sent one flying. By the end of the hour, Marron’s knuckles hurt, but the hot rage flowing in his veins had cooled enough that he could think.

“Sun forsaken barbarians!”

He growled as he stalked out of the room. The showers were right around the corner and perhaps ice cold water should cool his head.

Nearly a couple of hours ago he’d received word from the academies. Just thinking about the words on the crystal screen sent his blood boiling again.

“Marron,

I’ve been informed that Yuri got herself captured by the Northern Barbarians. Details are sparse, but it happened during her Mid-Water Break Internship. She picked the northern border and the Iron Skin Tribe conducted their annual raids. I don’t have all the details and I’ve submitted a request to head to the north. I’ll do what I can.

Kato”

Captured. By barbarians. His little sister.

He should have applied for transfer immediately but he knew the vice-Commander wouldn’t have let him go so easily. For one thing, the Watchtower was undermanned. The Wyldlings have stepped up their incursions, even though there was no sign of an impending Wave.

Before, five patrols would have been enough to catch any of the Wanderers that slipped in through the Tidelands, but now, ten was barely enough. It wasn’t always the Wanderers, too. Those big lugs were easy to track and kill. He’d thought swarmlings would have been easier to mop up, but the smaller critters were just short enough that the wild grass hid them easily.

Several swarmling packs entered Rumiga every day and though all of them were inadvertently drawn by the Gemheart, the artefact didn’t force the Wyldlings to lose what little wits they had. They were compelled to stay within a league of the Watchtower but they were resisting the compulsion to rush up to the fortress. So the militia had to hunt them down. Why, a few packs had even dug a burrow, and if not for the changed grass, they wouldn’t have found it so easily.

No, the only way Marron figured he’d get out of his current assignment was if he sought to transfer to Agminis. He’d received an offer from Vagaris a Season back but he’d declined. Marron had no wish to leave Rumiga, not in the next couple of decades, and probably not until he reached Knight-Captain like Da.

The other way was to advance to Knight. He was already at Sollus, both in Animus and his training. His Facets were fully delved and he only needed to consolidate his path. He could do it now. Even if he wasn’t perfectly ready. What use was power when it came too late to help? Da wasn’t here and it fell to him and Kato to rescue Yuri.

“Marron, are you…” Niamh, a sweet girl with short dark hair and green eyes, a member of his team, peeked inside the training room and stared at him with worried eyes. “I… what happened?”

“Barbarians captured Yuri.”

“What? Oh no, what do we do? And why are you still here?” she yelped.

Marron shook his head.

“Needed to cool my head,” he growled. “Vice-Comm Stuart won’t let me transfer so easily.”

Niamh’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll write some letters. When did it happen?”

“A week ago,” Marron grunted. “I’m going to advance. Tonight.”

“B-but,” Niamh stuttered, “are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Marron stalked out of the room and headed to his quarters. Niamh hesitated for a moment before she ran up beside him.

“They’re not sending help?”

“I don’t know. Kato didn’t say. But I won’t stay here and wait for news. Not again.”

“Oh.” Niamh nodded. “I’ll meet you later?”

“If I succeed that quickly. Otherwise, tomorrow.”

“Alright. Good luck.”

Niamh took a different hallway that led up to their offices. Marron’s eyes followed her swaying hips as she hurried away. Pursing his lips, he hurried to his quarters. Once he was there, he locked the door and sat in a meditative pose on his desk chair.

For the moment, he simply breathed and got his heart rate down. Emotions, rage, frustration, and despair, had no place in a marksman’s mind.

“Only in the midst of calm can you perform at your best.”

Da’s voice echoed in Marron’s mind. The Davar Heritage spoke to him. It was Virgil’s Heritage. A vision of the man in his youth, if thirty-five was young, appeared in Marron’s mind.

Virgil frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Your choice now may be limited. If you choose to advance now, you may have a harder time breaking through to Knight-Captain. Your lines aren’t complex enough.”

“I must.”

“Very well. Hold on to your courage and your determination. Choose your path and stay on it. Once you take the step, there is no turning back. Advance now, or forever lock your potential away.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I am ready.”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “No, you only think you are. Meditate for two hours, only then should you proceed.”

“...yes.”

So Marron waited. The guidepost in his Anima led him to the path; though he chose not to follow the exact route Da took, it was still a well-trodden road. A few Ancestors several generations ago had chosen the same and maybe even a few in his generation did as well. The Davar House was larger than most people thought. It was just that their home wasn’t in Rumiga but Ulmira. And most suffered the same wanderlust that Da did. That Yuriko did also.

Their only sister, despite taking after their mother in looks, inherited quite a few Davar traits. Wanderlust, for one. Stubbornness, for another. Countless times when Da spoke of his travels, Marron always saw the spark in Yuriko’s eyes shine.

She also had a bit of a sibling rivalry going on with her elder brothers. Marron knew that she wanted to prove to them that she was their equal in skill and determination. So why did she have to go to the front lines to prove it?

“Swarm fodder!” he swore. He was just riling himself up. “Focus, focus. Let all emotion wash away. Let it sink into the ground. The plane can take anything and the stone can take as much heat as I could give it.”

He envisioned his Anima. His core was a red sphere with a gale contained inside. The purple winds dashed against the borders faster than they normally would, showing his stormy mind. He focused on the winds. Let whatever debris was caught in it sink to the bottom and drain away. White sparkles danced in the eye and slowly made their way to the border. He could see them melt away.

He wouldn’t be able to help if he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t help much if he was still a Journeyman. He would be nothing but a common warrior then, with his ultimate fate in the hands of his superior officers.

In the Empire, there was a saying in the armed forces: only Knights have the right to walk on their own. Everyone else must follow. Reaching that level would signify that he was a true citizen of the Empire.

For hours he just meditated. He knew that if he inlaid his Facet with his mind in turmoil, whatever skill or technique he learned would be coloured by it. The further he delved in his Heritage, the more Need and Intent mattered. Right now, he needed to focus on what he wanted.

Unlike his Da, he didn’t subscribe to the one shot one kill mandate. Virgil’s shots were laced with as much Animus was needed to ensure a fatal shot but Marron thought that it left him vulnerable afterwards. Also, what if there was more than one enemy? No, what he used now was a barrage of shots that could be spread out to as many targets as needed. So what if there was only one? All he needed to do then was to focus fire on it.

His Apprentice Facet allowed him to reduce the amount of Animus needed to fire a shot. His Journeyman Facet strengthened his shots even if he invested less. Now, what did he need? What would he face in the Frozen North?

The Iron Skin Tribesmen were notoriously difficult to harm with plasma projectors. Their hide was just that good at protecting them from extreme temperatures. What did Marron need to do?

He could increase the number of bolts he fired at once. Or his shots could strengthen exponentially as long as he aimed at the same target. What did Da get when he was a Knight?

Ah, of course, he addressed a weakness when the enemy was too close. But Virgil’s previous inlays had to do with extreme range, accuracy, and penetrative power.

So what were his choices? Built-up shots? Rapid shots?

The enemies were tough but if he could kill them from a distance then it would be far more useful. Yes…that was it. Focus. He needed focus but he needed to use what he’d already built, too. Greater power to defeat tough foes. He’d massacre a swath through those rotting barbarians!

It was time.

He pulled his Animus from his core, summoned the storm at his beck and call, then he channelled it into his Heritage. The complex lines of his Heritage spanned around his heart and rose up to his head. It spread out like wings on his back, too. Several patterns were lit up, mostly on his right shoulder and left eye. The Facet he was looking for was on the left shoulder, and he proceeded to direct his Animus there.

His Animus reserves were at a hundred and fifty lumens. Sollus for a Journeyman. He had inlaid Empowered Strike and it was already at the second tier. He would raise it to the third after he succeeded.

There was no doubt of his success. The path was clear. It was only when he needed to advance further would there be trouble. No Heritage gave an easy path to Knight-Captain and precious few gave the path to Knight, either.

The lines lit up as he committed his lumens. Slowly, inch by inch, the Facet formed. A couple of hours later, he was done. He closed his eyes for a moment and the next time he opened them, he was no longer in his room.

He was floating amidst dark clouds. Lightning lanced around him, coming infinitesimally close, but ultimately missing him. He looked up and the clouds parted, revealing the Radiant Sun and the Luminous Moon, far closer than they would normally be.

He reached up to them, seeking to absorb their power. The Radiant Sun drew in Primordial Chaos and burned it in its furnace. Then it gave the purified light out, a blessing to all that lived within the planes. The Luminous Moon gave Order to Chaos, giving cycles where there should have been none. With the changing of the Moon, the Chaos Sea ebbed and flowed. By commanding it to come and go with the passage of time, and endless dance spinning round and round, it gave the Chaos definition.

Power. The Radiant Sun.

Control. The Luminous Moon.

Marron reached out but they were too far away. His Facet flared, seeking to draw their power in but it was not strong enough. He felt fear. Despair. If he didn’t take in a spark of power or control, his Anima would not grow stronger. No.

‘Give it to me!’

Even as the Celestials started to fade away, Marron grasped at them. His Facets and Heritage flared in response to his need, to his Intent. The light burst from the lines etched in his Anima. It shot out of his body, and twined above him, forming a silhouette. A figure with long flowing robes, and a complex looking updo. A woman, he thought.

The darkened silhouette gestured with her left hand. A little bit of sun and moonlight coalesced in her palm and she offered it to him.

He knew instinctively that he had come to a crossroads. He needed to take the power in her hand and fuse it into his Anima, no, his Heritage. Instinctively, he knew he looked at the Empire’s ultimate ruler, the Verdant Empress. She who forged the nation’s path to power.

Marron wasn’t strong enough to grasp the Radiance or the Luminescence. But he could take the proffered power. He was already bound to the Empire. He no longer hesitated. Yuriko needed him.

He raised his hand and took the light. It burned, oh, it burned! But it soothed, too. He felt it then. The sense that the Empress would always have his back. Though he knew that sentiment wasn’t real.

He swallowed the light and it shot straight into the middle of his Heritage. His Facets rearranged themselves around it, forming to draw power from it. The light made its way into his core, embedding itself into its centre. Ambient Chaos that he breathed in would make its way to his core and be transformed by the light into Animus. Faster and stronger than what he could do on his own.

When the light settled and dispersed into his core, Marron felt something hook into his middle and yank him back down. When he opened his eyes, he found himself back in his room. The skies showed the Chaos Streams through his window and his senses told him it was near midnight. But he had succeeded.

He clenched his fists. Now to go to the north and kill all of the scum that dared lay a hand on his sister!