I've grown enough at this point that Tarin no longer completely outclasses me. If I had to rate the strength of people I've fought so far, I'd probably put Guard at the top, followed by Naru, then Whisper, then Tarin. Of the people in that list, the only person I think I'd be able to beat with any consistency is Tarin.
This, I'm learning, is a bit of arrogance on my part.
It's not that the versatility of my skills doesn't compete with Tarin — nor does his Firmament entirely outshine mine. I glance to the Interface to check on something I haven't looked at in a while.
[ Firmament base attunement: 93.4%
Progress to next phase shift: 63.5% ]
I can't say I'm entirely sure what these things mean yet, but I'm significantly more attuned to my Firmament base than I was before. My first phase shift came with a pretty significant bump in power, so knowing I'm more than halfway to the next one is heartening.
I wish I knew how to work actively toward it.
All I've gotten from Tarin and others so far is that progressing your Firmament phase is different between both species and individuals. It's not helpful. It might be, if I could speak to other humans, but the chat system is still malfunctioning and I haven't been able to catch a second glimpse of human contact since the last time I was able to speak to Zhao.
I do remember what Mari said, though, about my Firmament still being soft. It's the first time I've heard my Firmament described in this way, and I wonder if that has anything to do with the next phase shift. Are there discrete stages to Firmament development?
Something to ask later.
For now, the fight that's blossoming in front of me between Tarin and his opponent — the silverwisp's name is He-Who-Burns, fittingly, according to both Thys and Thaht — is eye-opening. It's not the variety of skills nor the physical prowess of either combatant that's impressing me; it's the speed and flexibility with which they use their Firmament.
"Wow," Thys whistles next to me. "That old bird always so good at fighting?"
"He looks experienced," I say, which isn't what I want to say. He can be kind of scary.
The other thing I'm realizing is that Tarin is less effective when he's fighting against monsters — where he really shines is in battles against other people. Firmament users, specifically. I can almost sense what he's doing, but...
I activate Firmament Sight.
That throws everything Tarin is doing into sharp clarity, and I can see almost immediately why he said this would be good training.
"Something's up with his Firmament," I say out loud. Thaht looks up sharply at me, then squints at Tarin, as if he can see what's going on with his eyes alone.
"I don't see it," he says.
"Give me a moment," I mutter. I push on my Firmament sense in addition to what Firmament Sight is telling me, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing.
I remember the skill I got from him in my phase shift. Intrinsic Lightning. It's one of my more unique Speed skills. The benefits it gives are indirect, closer to an overall buff than giving me any specific ability, but that's part of what makes it so good.
Except if what I'm seeing from Tarin is right, it's not that it doesn't give me a specific ability. It's just that I never figured out the exact mechanism by which that skill works.
Judging by how slowly he's readying himself for the fight, Tarin's intentionally slowing down what he's doing enough for me to catch a glimpse of it. I can see him visibly concentrating — evidently, going slow takes effort for him — and I watch as Firmament gathers in his core and then spreads out over his body.
Tiny sparks scatter over his feathers. And beneath those feathers...
I see the way those same sparks of Firmament race along his nerves.
Clarity snaps into place.
He's replacing the electrical signals in his nervous system with Firmament.
The name is a clever one, now that I think about it: the lightning is intrinsic because it's already present in him. In every biological organism with a nervous system.
And the point of doing this is clear as soon as I watch the fight begin. Tarin dashes toward He-Who-Burns, his wing stretched out for a slicing strike. He's intentionally moving slower than he normally does, giving the silverwisp time to react. Testing him.
He-Who-Burns lashes out with a burning crescent of white-hot Firmament. Tarin continues charging, with no action or intent to dodge, as far as I can see.
But a spark from his feathers jumps onto the crescent, and the reaction is instant. Automatic. The spark forms a single line of pure Firmament that feeds right back into his body, sending a signal to his nerves without his brain having to process the sight at all. Tarin twists out of the way, not even slowing down, and speeds up into a blur. It takes an activation of Quicken Mind for me to be able to track his movement.
"He's smirking," I say in disbelief. "And his eyes are closed."
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"What? No way," Thys says in disbelief.
"I don't think I want to fight him without my suit," Thaht says, blinking.
"You probably don't," I say. I wonder what Tarin would do against a suit like the one Thaht uses. Come to think of it, I really want to see their workshop and figure out what they put into that thing; it's monstrously strong for what's effectively just a giant robot.
I let Intrinsic Lightning flicker through my body, feeling the way it races through my nerves. It's so subtle it blends in with the general feeling of Firmament racing through my body — but if I focus my senses on it, I can feel the way it jumps and races through every nerve in every muscle.
But there's more that Tarin is doing with it. He's programmed automatic responses into his own nervous system, using flickers of his Firmament to detect changes in his environment. I'm not sure I can push the skill that far, but I try anyway. All I need to do is pour more Firmament into the skill...
I spasm, jerking forward, nearly hitting my head on the rail and making both Thys and Thaht jump. I hear Ahkelios snickering through our link, though there's a sense of sympathy radiating through it as well.
Okay. Clearly the solution is not just to pour more Firmament into it.
You're on the right track, but you need to control how you push in Firmament, Ahkelios suggests. The way you're doing it now, you're just increasing the energy in it. You want to increase the radius. Or get more sparks.
Easy for you to say, I send back, but I relent and listen to his words anyway.
I activate the skill. I can feel the way the Interface reacts, converting my base Firmament into something fundamentally more. It's like there's a tiny engine in there; I can force more Firmament into the engine like I just did, and that causes the sparks of Firmament that emerge to be more powerful and energetic.
Or I can make the engine run faster.
I push my Firmament into the Interface, into that so-called engine, and watch as it begins to drag my Firmament into it more rapidly. It doesn't create more powerful sparks like when I empowered the skill directly; instead, it just creates more sparks, and I feel it blazing through my system and beginning to scatter over my skin. Thys yelps as a stray spark of electrical Firmament lands on him.
"Sorry," I say, immediately releasing the skill and trying to ignore the strange looks I'm getting. It's probably best not to draw attention to myself like this. I turn back to Tarin's fight, shifting a bit in discomfort as remnant traces of Firmament race their way through my nerves.
He-Who-Burns has, apparently, had enough of Tarin's flittering about. I can't see his pendant from here, but his body language tells me he's pissed. He raises his hands, and I wince at the intensity of light that erupts from his chest. I can feel the heat from here, and from the outcry surrounding me, I'm not the only one.
It makes sense. He responded to an opponent too fast to be caught by flooding the Arena with an attack that can't be dodged.
I can barely open my eyes through the glare of his Firmament. Apparently, I'm one of very few audience members affected like this. Thys and Thaht both flinch backward from the heat, but they don't seem nearly blinded the way I am.
A downside of Firmament Sight, I suppose. I deactivate the skill and close my eyes, focusing on my Firmament sense to see what Tarin is doing in response to this. I can tell that he's speeding up, but—
Tarin shouts something I can't hear over the roar of the spectators. I can feel the wind pick up in the Arena, almost like it's being sucked in toward the Arena — like he's creating a vacuum and pulling all the air in. I feel his Firmament being cycled faster and faster and faster, pulling in all the Firmament around it and creating a physical tunnel of wind.
He's mimicking the imbuement on Miktik's home.
It makes sense. Whisper's Firmament is ever-present within Isthanok, and the only way to create a space shielded from it is to cycle Firmament so rapidly it draws in everything around it. A makeshift rotating shield. Any speed-oriented Firmament is especially suited for a defensive technique like that.
Tarin doesn't waste any more time, probably because he doesn't want to give He-Who-Burns the chance to pull something like that off again; the punch he delivers snaps straight to the the silverwisp's throat, and although he holds back enough not to kill the man, he still hits hard enough to briefly make He-Who-Burns's entire head gutter out like a candle flame.
Just for a moment, but the message is clear nonetheless: I could have killed you.
"I didn't even know you could do that to a silverwisp without killing them," I say. Not that I knew much about silverwisp anatomy.
"Yeah, well." Thys sounds equally stunned. "Neither did I."
Then the Interface catches my attention with a message I've never seen before.
[ New feature unlocked! Your careful study of a master's techniques has granted you Skill Mastery. ]
[ Skill Mastery is a passive form of Firmament refinement fueled by your efforts in mastering certain skills. Improved Skill Mastery will grant phase shift progress and is the first step toward your Consolidation. ]
[ Mastery of Intrinsic Lightning has improved. ]
[ Your familiar has been granted a knowledge package. ]
Whoa, Ahkelios sends to me through our link. Um... Whoa.
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Tarin knew his words would get lost in the crowd. There was only one person who'd be able to hear what he'd shouted, really. Two, if you counted He-Who-Burns, who wouldn't understand what he'd said regardless.
Just because he and Naru were estranged didn't mean he didn't keep tabs on his son. He'd traveled a lot, in his day — had made plenty of friends in both high and not-so-high places. Mostly the latter. He couldn't stand most of the people that involved themselves in the upper echelons of Integrator society, not in the least because of what the Integrators stood for.
But the important thing here was that he'd been to the Great City that Naru managed.
Tarin had only been to Carusath twice. The place made him uncomfortable. It sat in the middle of a still-burning crater. The streets were lit with burning coal that lined the sidewalks, and even the trees were twisted structures of firey Firmament. Why his son preferred that environment to their cozy cliffside home was something he couldn't even pretend to understand.
Visiting the place had done nothing to help that.
But he'd learned a few things while he was there. He'd learned that Naru had a somewhat militant following that he used as his own personal soldiers, though he rarely had to employ them in any kind of war — not when his own strength was enough to settle most conflicts. He'd learned that those soldiers had a rather specific battle cry they would use, one that varied slightly based on their rank.
No one here would understand the battlecry. It was, as he understood it, based on an ancient language that wasn't even from this planet. Only people that possessed a fully unlocked Interface — in other words, an active or former Trialgoer — would understand what he said.
And really, all he did was modify the words.
The normal battlecry was, translated: For Naru, Pillar of Carusath.
His version was: For my son, Naru of Cliffside.
In some other universe, he might have said those words and meant it.