V | THE EAST
Boltcrank Cruiser, Captain’s Cabin
Aegis, form reverted to perfection, hair still damp from a recent bath, leaned back in his cushioned chair, impeccably dressed in his crimson captain’s suit. The red cloth draped across the table shimmered like a pool of blood in the flickering lantern light. His pale eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed the eight figures kneeling before him.
“How did… Golden Faith get its claws on my likeness?”
Silence stretched, broken only by the crackling of the lantern and the ragged breaths of a short man in a fashioned white crew suit. His eyes, wide with fear, darted between the captain and his trembling comrades. Finally, he stammered, “Captain… there was… two that escaped.”
He bowed his head In shame. “Days after besieging the ship, Captain. A woman, with great origins, she had been hidden aboard. When you were resting… she took one captive, gone away under my watch.”
The man swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a trapped fish. “Captain,” he stammered, “she was… different. Not like the others who attacked. She didn’t fight, just… slipped away—flew away, actually, with a creature like a giant bird.”
Aegis leaned forward with his hand, his gaze drilling into the man’s soul. “This woman, you say she was different?”
Aegis’s pale eyes flickered, the dull echo of an old headache. This expanse of iron and wood was a leviathan, even for Snow’s keen eyes.
He waved a dismissive hand at the stammering crewmate. “Whatever, gather the captives.”
Under the starlit main deck, shadows danced with the flickering glow of fire. Tied and trembling, once esteemed figures, prosperous and proud, now stood captive. A grand ship and a prison echoed their disbelief. Golden Faith’s vessel, thought impenetrable, succumbed to the ruthless clutches of pirates.
Aegis’s words crackled like lightning across. “Work.”
“Those rations aren’t for slackers. Hunger sharpens minds, rouses ingenuity. You want them? Earn them.” His gaze swept across the cowering figures, landing on the original crew members.
“You ten,” he pointed, “teach them skills they lack everything you hold dear, share it. Make them earn their place on this vessel.”
The original crew exchanged uneasy glances.
Then, his gaze shifted to the Sharks from Marain’s father to a duo of sorcerers under his command.
“Let the first transgression be their last.”
God of Curses, Malethros
When a vow forsakes others, its doom falls upon the vow-maker alone. But when a vow seeks thraldom and binds one to another’s will, both are ensnared by Malethros. Aegis’s well of essence, tainted by such vows, now bears the burden of fifteen souls, a fourth of its measure. By the vows that twist with Malethros, Aegis is fettered. The cost of these binding oaths shows in the weakening of his power.
Verily, by ensnaring those with power and using their might to cow the feeble, Aegis sought to heighten his efficacy. This course likely heightened the dread, making the most of the limits set by Malethros-bound vows. But the mighty ones were not lightly bound; they were not the kind one could trap in the alleys like craven knaves. Stoutly resistant, they would choose death over grovelling beneath others. These two, once hired guardians, now bound by a fell vow to Aegis, were driven by self-warding. Treachery meant a dire curse in spirit or flesh, and they clung to life, aware of the aftermath.
The Golden Faith had already requested a foothold among the sea lords, subtly shifting alliances and balances on the open seas. Though they had many fleets and better, the Golden Faith would not suffer any affront to their honor. With a vast influence in the trade world, news of pirates taking their ship would obliterate their name.
They sailed on, braving the treacherous waters of the Insectum Black, and swiftly reached the next, the Rendblack Abyss.
They faced monstrous beasts of the dark ocean In this uncharted land. Rogue bands of pirates or righteous crossed their way, met with swift death and plundered riches. The power of wielding lightning in water battles was clear, especially against the frail cruise ships guarded by a few strong sorcerers. In this time of scarce large wars, human strife mainly arose from plagues, other races, rifts, quarrels within realms, or realms along the same shores. In wrecking of ships, those travelling between realms within the world, bore the risk of stirring wide disorder. The vanishing of vessels moving across would surely cause a great commotion, though inter-realm journeys were rare and dear. The aftermath of such events could reach beyond single realms or forces, sparking diplomatic strains and raising doubts about the origin of the hidden attacks.
The great renown of the Golden Faith meant that any strange deeds at sea were like to cast doubt upon him or other fell pirates. Golden Faith had become a looming shadow, making him the chief mark of heed in the face of sea troubles. While many mighty pirate leagues might share the blame, the mere utterance of the Golden Faith’s name could send tremors through the lands, as his deeds held the power to shape the minds of factions and common folk alike.
Aegis was heedful of his power’s might for ruin and death, but cared not for the end. He loved it free of care, he walked a path of his own will, untouched by the fall his deeds could unleash in a world where power often came with duty.
He had not a care In the world. Now, Aegis could be said to have left his quests; he had crossed the far lands opposite the mainlands and was going to the Eastern Realm. His certain aim was one of Eldred’s many heirlooms—the Heart of Human Divinity, guarded by the Sect Mortal Heart within one of the many nations of the continent, Wunglo, Qilinria.
Reason? None in particular.
The silver dagger’s power remained unknown, still awaiting Aegis’s understanding. Presently, his utmost need was the Human Crystal, yet he found himself unable to face many adversaries alone. His once pristine reputation now marred, accusing him of slaying a squad of sorcerers. In his youth, engaging a formidable foe was challenging, and facing three powerful opponents marked his limit. Battling three human minds proved more daunting than confronting a horde of centaurs.
Eastern Realm with its six continents, three being archipelagos, the Mortal Heart Sect appears very notably modest in size. Its presence, though limited, suggests a unique and potentially secluded influence within.
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Now the green water surrendered to clear sapphire like a fallen sky, with many verdant rock formations and fair needle mountains piercing the sky. Wispy white mists swirled everywhere. Emerald scales flashed beneath the waves; they were serpentine creatures twirling in the sunlit depths.
He glanced at Snow, and together they launched themselves into the sky, the wind whipping through Aegis’s black robe and staves as they soared above the misty peaks. Below, waterfalls cascaded like silver threads, their roar echoing through the valleys. Exotic serpentine birds, feathered in hues of jade and sapphire, wheeled around them.
Unfurling a map crafted from aged parchment, Aegis traced his finger across its surface, landing on one of the cities near the sea, Qinzhou.
Enchanted swords and beasts served as mounts, zipping through the air like swallows on the wind. Two mountains, crowned with palaces gleaming like polished pearls, rose from the earth, connected by a majestic bridge of white marble and red wood. Beneath them, a sprawling city of arched structures.
They landed on a wide road, arched and adorned with dragon-headed carvings of gold and stone. Aegis dismounted, his boots sinking into the soft moss that carpeted the stone.
Aegis’s pale eyes suddenly glazed over like a poached egg. He spun, scanning the bustling city beyond. “Hold,” he muttered to Snow, who snorted skeptically and flicked her tail.
Aegis veered off the main road like a rogue. He led Snow on a merry chase through the forests. Finally, they stumbled upon a peculiar sight: a majestic oak tree with leaves the color of amethyst.
“There!” he declared, brandishing a menacing black spear with four tips that looked like they could poke someone’s eye out from five paces. With a flourish, the tips whirred with the air around them, creating a miniature tornado that made Snow’s mane stand on end.
Snow snorted and nudged Aegis with her head.
The Spear Acrimosan Sky of Blue, a token of unkept promise, was borne by Raj Mal in rebellion against the iron clutches of King Majestis Rahmir, that made the skies to dust. At the last, Raj Mal fell, and Majestis Rahmir, though sorely hurt, tarried for days and died of his wounds. The very spear that Raj Mal swore would bring Acrimosa a sky of blue became a remembrance of the shattered oath.
Aegis plunged the spear into the soft earth like a mischievous child burying a toy. He then whipped out the crimson bow. It was a beauty, yet now covered in earth.
His gaze shifted, drawn to the twin black talismans nestled in his palms.
Recently obtained, the Inventory Talismans were a rarity. Bounded to the bow and spear, tearing them instantly would summon the respective weapon at hand. However, the drawback was that greater distance meant more time for the retrieval.
He vaulted onto Snow’s back, her white fur rippling beneath his grip. Together, they surged toward the imposing archway marking the city’s entrance. As they passed through, a wave of vibrant energy washed over them. The air buzzed with another language, washing over Aegis.
No time for sightseeing, though.
Aegis and Snow stood at one of the main roads as an arrogant young man in flashy red robes entered the scene; denizens knelt, fear evident in their greetings, “Young Master!”
The young man's gaze fell on him with a sneer, then he turned to one of his followers. Understanding the unspoken command, one of the followers brandished a whip, bellowing, “Courting death! Kneel!” However, his attempt was swiftly met with a lethal surge of lightning, extinguishing him immediately.
“Who… Who are you? Do you know who I am? I am the son of the city lord! How dare you act presumptuous! Get him!” he commanded, and his followers and the city guards, wielding swords, moved forward with intent. Yet, their efforts ended swiftly, as Aegis dispatched them without hesitation.
“Junior, you dare!?!” one’s last words before dying.
Gulping nervously, the young master stammered, “You—” Rising, he mounted one of his swords defiantly. “Just wait! I will tear you to ten thousand pieces—”
Aegis merely flicked a hand.
Their objective lay elsewhere. Aegis and Snow weaved through, his pale eyes scanning the streets for any sign of the Mortal Heart branch sect.
Finally, a weathered banner depicting a stylized jade heart fluttering above a building caught his eye.
Suddenly, numerous elders materialized, activating a formidable barrier. One elder, resembling the young man Aegis had just slain, stepped forward. “BRAT! YOU ARE COURTING DEATH!” he screamed, wielding a sword. “HEAVEN SPLITTING SWORD!” A divine golden light flickered on his blade, delivering a blow obliterating half of the branch sect that started a fire in the city section.
Only the feathers of Snow remained falling in the air.
“Brat! If I don’t kill you, then I am not Xianren Qingfeng!”
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Within a tranquil tea house, Aegis reclined leisurely, distanced from the chaotic section of the city. Snow? Nowhere to be seen.
Concealed in his old man’s guise (this time aided by an artifact, blindfold still on though) he remained inconspicuous.
A skilled server, approached, pouring fragrant tea into delicate porcelain cups.
As the aromatic steam rose, a young man, his attire that of a scholar, respectfully presented Aegis with a scroll. The parchment unfolded, revealing a meticulously drawn map detailing the city’s intricacies. Aegis, sipping the tea, listened attentively as the young man shared insights. A narrative of history, alliances, betrayals, and the ever-shifting tides of power within the city’s underbelly.
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I wander forward, burdened by a heavy heart. The world I see around me, a desolate landscape, mirroring the bleakness that festers within.
The snow flayed my face, each flake a tiny, icy needle pricking at my failure. It clung to my eyelashes, blurring the already-indistinct world into white. Each ragged breath came out in chunks, frosted by the unforgiving air. My boots were useless anchors, sucking themselves deeper with each reluctant step.
Royalty? I was born of the crown, yes, but felled myself into muddied fields, my cradle the echo of my father’s scorn. “Nothing… you are nothing.” He would hiss, the words of a viper coiling in my gut. And now, even that felt too grand. Under this sky weeping frozen tears, I was less than a dust.
A sob, raw, tore from my chest, each gasp stealing precious warmth from already numb lungs. “Mother,” it escaped a whimper, a plea lost in the howling wind. Her face, once vibrant as spring blooms, now…
Every shallow breath is a struggle.
I, her son, her legacy, stood here in impotence, my very presence a burden on her failing flesh.
I sank to my knees, the snow swallowing me whole. The sting of cold became a welcome numbness, a dull echo of the hollowness within.
“I’m sorry,”
A failure. Unable to save the one who gave me life.
“It is easy,” his father had said once, standing on a battlefield with mere few army against countless foes, “to show forth bravery when hope flickers. But true bravery, reveals itself when hope dwindles, when darkness engulfs everything, and the specter of despair looms overhead.”
In the lack of hope, in the darkest nooks of being, that valour withers away. Kairo yields to the stifling weight of his own being, his spirit glimmering like a fading ember. It is in those moments of utter hopelessness, when the world shows its harsh heedlessness, that the faint light within him dies to naught.