Kierna

The cool wind that howled over the snow capped mountains was a welcome relief from her homeworld's scorching heat. Clouds gathered above them, threatening rain, something that only a week ago would have been heralded by celebrations. Now, standing amongst the ranks of the initiates at the base of the great mountain, none paid attention to the iron gray clouds. All of their attention was focused on the woman who stood straight as a board staring down at them with a faint look of disinterest on her refined features.

Swordmaster Sorrow of the Dan-Watt Alliance. The youngest blademaster in centuries, the prodigy of the frontier. She had stopped invasions from happening by her mere presence. She had fought and won thirty-seven duels, each of them a ballad sung across the frontier. She had holomovies about her exploits, of slaying great and fell beasts, of besting demigods, and banishing demons. All before the age of forty.

She was looking for her first apprentices. Now, ten thousand teens stood in tight formation, not even a whisper stirring between their tight packed ranks. All for the simple hope that Sorrow would pick them. Kierna felt like an imposter amongst them. She was from a simple hardscrabble world that was more dirt than anything else. How she stood around martial prodigies, budding aether mages, and more, she knew not.

“Welcome. I am Sorrow,” Sorrow broke the silence, her voice soft but commanding. The wind stilled as Sorrow rose above them, her long white jacket spreading out beneath her as she hovered ten feet above everyone. A shirt of emerald sparkled in the light. Her golden skin radiated health and shone in the setting sun. Her thick raven hair gleamed in the fading light as she slowly drifted over them.

“One in one-hundred. That is how many can work aether. Who can feel and guide the power that resides in and about us. Every child in the Alliance is tested. When I announced I would take three apprentices, every aether connected child in the age between thirteen to fourteen applied.” She grew quiet as her words echoed over the block formations of initiates. A palpable tension was growing amongst the silent ranks, waiting patiently for the living legends' next words.

“Thirty-four million applicants. For three spots.” She spoke in short sentences, emphasizing the ludicrous odds.

“You all did the same tests. Physical. Mental. Emotional. You withstood a barrage. You are the best ten thousand children in the Dan-Watt Alliance.” Kierna felt a flash of disbelief run through her. She had done more than twenty of the aforementioned tests and had known that the competition to become Sorrow’s apprentice would be tough, but this was beyond her belief. None of the tests had pushed her beyond her limits, most of them well within her range of abilities.

“At any time, you may leave my mountain. You are not prisoners here. At the end of this year, most of you will be fifteen. That is the optimal age to begin aether manipulation training. At the end of this year, one hundred of you will be chosen. Only one percent.”

This managed to make a brief stir as the other initiates looked at each other while trying to not make it obvious. Kierna kept her eyes locked on the floating swordmaster. Her bored expression was a mask, Kierna thought. Her eyes were alive and searching, sweeping about the crowd. This was a test. One she was determined to pass.

“This year of training will break you. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. At any time you can leave. Those who stay and complete the testing though, even if not picked, will be given opportunities by others.” She waved her hand at the line of adults who stood on the platform that the swordmaster had levitated from. Kierna counted quickly, her eyes skimming over the motley collection. They were all dressed differently, some wearing the flowing robes of martial sects, others the tight leathers of aether mages, a few looked like paladins or monks, the inner light of divinity emerging from their skin. That and many more, each of them unique in their dress. It took her only a minute to understand that she was looking at representatives of the different factions of the alliance. They would gobble up all those who failed to meet the swordmaster’s standards. Even the swordmaster’s castoffs were prizes.

“You will be broken up into companies of one-thousand. Each company will have one instructor and several assistants. They will be your primary trainers. You will wash out immediately if you strike them outside of a dueling pitch or other training field. You will hate them, I assure you of that. You will hate me. You will also likely hate yourself. Pressure creates diamonds.” With that, Sorrow floated back to the wooden platform without looking at the mass of anxious teens.

A loud beep rang out from ten thousand communicators. The rush of movement was startling, for every single initiate turned to look at their personal communicator. Kierna could feel her heart racing and a cold sweat streaming down her back as she looked at her communicator.

Company Justinian

Squad 9

Instructor Pavel

Gold Temple

Kierna didn’t know what Gold Temple was, but she followed the flow of students who streamed past the wooden platform and the watching instructors in an orderly mass. She gasped quietly as she saw the mountain properly for the first time. It rose and rose and rose higher and higher, piercing the iron gray clouds to disappear from view. The long switchback trail was clearly marked and the fastest of the students were already jogging up the mountain.

Ten thousand people don’t move quickly, regardless of how motivated they are. It took her nearly two hours to reach the beginning of the trail and the clouds above were now rumbling ominously. She hoped the trail wouldn’t go too high, her legs were already growing sore from having to stand this long. Her lightweight garments were perfect for the heat of Topher’s World. Here though, the chill bit through them which caused her to shiver with every step. Kierna was anxious to start working her way up the mountain trail, just to get her blood flowing and hopefully heat up.

Three hours later, drenched in sweat with a cramp in her side and blood from burst blisters filling her boots, she cursed her three hour younger self. The path was stony and hard packed, a light mist pervaded the top of the mountain, slowly being absorbed into her linen clothes until they clung with a constant weight to her. The towering trees at the base of the mountain were growing more scrawny as she climbed. They provided sparse cover as she watched the ecology change from the dense lower forest, to a high desert scrubland.

Her own sweat was doing little more than make it harder for her, as the thirsty fabric drank and held the liquid, just as it was designed to do. Each step was harder than the last, but Kierna refused to give up, rising higher and higher up the mountain.

She passed a few of the other initiates, looking tired and broken already, none had given up yet though. All of them continued to trundle up the mountain with a determined vigor, refusing to break on the first test. She took encouragement from each of her competitors that she passed, slowly shuffling her way up in a patient trot.

At the fifth hour, the persistent mist faded away to a steady drizzle. Kierna didn’t let that phase her, though each breath was harder than the last as the air grew thinner the higher she climbed. Now the trees had faded away entirely, to be replaced by thick shooted bamboo stalks that lined the path, blocking all views further up the mountain.

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At the sixth hour, the rain died away just as the fallen sun's light disappeared. Pale blue lights illuminated the path from hidden alcoves, spaced every ten the fifteen feet. The path became much more treacherous as her slick boot struggled to maintain their grip on the slippery rocks.

As the seventh hour hit, her clothes began to accumulate ice crystals. The constant motion of her body kept her blood flowing, but the outer edges of her once baggy shirt now had fine ice crystals growing. Kierna began to despair as she saw other candidates working their way down, heads bowed in shame as they retreated from the mountain. She hadn’t been the last to begin her ascent, but near the tail end. She couldn’t help but wonder how further these others had climbed before the mountain broke them.

At the eighth hour, isolated from the world, cocooned in her own suffering, she heard the wild howl of an animal. The thick bamboo shoots hid any view she could have. Fear pulsed through her as adrenaline surged through her battered body. Her pace had disintegrated to a slovenly shuffle, but now, she moved faster with fear induced vigor, eyes sweeping along the edges of the path.

At the ninth hour she found the first temple. Painted bloody red, a towering pagoda nestled on the side of the path. Bright lights illuminated the intimidating structure as a masked instructor sat cross legged in front of the open entrance. Hope sparked in her chest at the sight, finally some sign that she was on the right path.

She lost track of the hours.

She passed three more temples. The first, a resplendent dark blue that bordered on black, reignited her inner fire. The next an earthy brown and despair flowed into her as she realized that there could be dozens of these pagodas nestled along the mountain path. Each one separated by miles of steep climbing. The third was verdant green, without the lights around it, the pagoda would have perfectly blended in with the vibrant environment. Now she began to curse herself for having been so foolish as to submit herself to this level of torture.

Her legs were pillars of numb meat, each step a strain against her fading willpower. She shook with exhaustion and cold, her fingers tinged blue as mist exploded around her with every exhalation. The inner ball of hate she began to develop for the mountain and herself got her to the fifth pagoda, one of pearlescent pearl. It shone like a treasure, collapsed figures of students being tended to by a group of white clothed people with a red cross on their arms. Her blurry vision failed her as she couldn’t make out their features, only that the pagoda wasn’t the correct color.

She continued up. She stopped cursing herself as she needed every iota of willpower just for the next step. She would have cried if she had the energy. She couldn’t feel her body, just a general stabbing ache, the crushing feeling of exhaustion pressing on her from every direction. Her eyes threatened to close, no matter how hard she willed them to stay open.

The sixth pagoda was gold. She could barely stumble anymore, her arms wrapped around her body as she stumbled toward a towering figure who stood on the stair looking down with disinterest as she staggered toward him. Heat was wafting out of the pagoda, the heady scents of food and the splash of liquid. She felt hot tears well in the back of her eyes as she strained to get up the steps.

Her foot caught the edge of the first stair and she fell forward. The sharp edges of the stairs dug deep into her body as she finally let out the trembling cry of pain and agony that she had been holding. She was too exhausted to sob, but she lay there spent, with nothing left in her body to raise herself up the simple five steps and into the pagoda.

“You don’t pass unless you can get into the pagoda without assistance,” the man said. His voice sounded like it came from far away. Kierna stretched her numb arms out, dug her nails into the smooth wood and pulled. Her body thumped up and over the steps, her numb body not even feeling the new trauma. A nail ripped off. Then another, bloody streaks across the wood as she dug her feet and pushed with what little strength she had. The tip of her passed through the entrance.

“Grab her quick!” A voice called out, warm hands grabbed her and pulled her further into the pagoda. Warmth pervaded her, burning her frozen skin with a thousand blades. She would have screamed if she could. Burning hands rested on her temples, her and peace descended on her. That’s all she thought it was, a gentle wave of peace as her mind was quietly divorced from her broken body.

Standing above her, the healer looked down at her new patient with a frown before looking at Pavel standing imperiously at the doorway. The poor girl was an absolute wreck, it would take her hours to repair her functionality. She could only imagine how grueling the trek up the mountain was, her own trip up it had been by rickshaw, pulled by an acolyte who could use aether reinforcement. To manage the trip without that, in the dark in sodden clothes! She could only be impressed by the girl's fortitude. Also her stupidity. Life was more precious than some apprenticeship. The myriad of healers hired for this competition had been given payment and told the rules. They could only heal inside of the pagoda. They would be pulling frozen corpses off the mountain tomorrow without a doubt.

“You lied to her. She just had to reach the pagoda. She didn’t need to enter it on her own,” Ryen accused Pavel as she guided her aether through her. The healing was gentle, just accelerating the natural processes, the few pulled muscles were healed to the point they could be used, but not all the way. Another rule they had been given, they could only heal until the initiate could compete, not to perfect health.

“I can make my own rules for my company. My rule is they have to make it into the pagoda.” Pavel had a soft voice that held hints of quiet pain in it when he allowed his facade to fall.

“It was cruel and created more work for me,” Ryen countered as the nails the girl had ripped out crawling up the stairs grew back. The poor thing was massively dehydrated, had air sickness, and was in a caloric deficit that was shocking. Ryen would normally have advised a week of bedrest with more gentle healing with large meals to repair all of this. Ryen knew the girl wouldn’t receive that. She’d have to start competing tomorrow, injuries and all.

Ryen focused a bit more of her healing abilities toward the girl. The familiar pull on her aether core a comforting warmth. Power spun through her limbs, traveling through her aether channels until a pale gold light radiated out of her hands. Ryen guided the light through the battered flesh, healing unseen internal wounds, restoring lost circulation to her appendages. Frostbite faded, fingers and toes that would have been lost healed. Ryen shook her head as she continued her work as the night began to fade to the dawn's advance. The girl had destroyed her body making it up the path, a testament to her powerful will.

Ryen looked around at the hall filled with other healers, all of them working their own patients back to some semblance of health. She had been hardened to life's hardships over her long life, her powerful aether core extending her natural lifespan till it measured centuries rather than decades. To see this waste though, the destroyed flesh of children all for the thin hope of catching the attention of Sorrow. It broke the thin layer of armor she wore over her heart. She could feel the hot tears threatening to spill.

Pavel’s warm hand brushed her shoulder and she was forced to control her emotions. She refused to let her old friend see her vulnerable. Those bridges had been burned decades ago.

“Relax. I will push them, but I will try to keep them alive.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” Ryen fired back, bitter acid clinging to every syllable.

“That was a long time ago. Sorrow has asked us to push them, but I have learned to find limits. Your charges will not die needlessly.”

“Children. They are children.”

“They came here voluntarily.”

“Does that change the fact they are children?”

Pavel paused, his long face drawn in a faint frown. What they were doing here was on the border of criminal. That these children and their families had allowed this to happen was pointless. They had both looked at the program to develop these early talents. To try to create another monster like Sorrow, another pillar of the Dan-Watt alliance. Keeping the frontier secure required sacrifice, but neither of them wanted to think that the sacrifice would be others. That they would be the ones who had to break these children in the faint hope that a true monster would rise up. One whose very existence could keep the Empire at bay.

“We do our duty. To clan or lord or country. We have our freedom and if we wish to keep it we must be willing to be monsters.”

“I don’t know if I can. How many have died already on the first night. The first test?”

“Scores. Maybe a hundred. I don’t know. We are missing seventeen so far. I hope they will trickle in overnight.” Pavel looked down at Kierna, her face growing flush as warmth suffused her body. While they had been talking quietly, Ryen had never stopped healing her. Bringing her back from the edge of death. As Pavel peered deeper, using his own powerful aether skills to look at the initiate, he saw that Ryen had done far more than just bring her back to functionality. The girl would be sore and hurting tomorrow, but she was nearly in perfect health.

“Leave her to sleep. Any more and she will be disqualified. We need to see how far they can go, if you heal her all the way we won’t be able to see her true character.”

“She climbed here freezing to death. Is that not enough”

“No.”