I escaped from the Keep the second the meeting ended, ignoring any attempts by anyone, even Gwen, to gain my attention. I had only waited long enough to schedule an appointment with Atid to discuss the changes I’d like to make to posting commissions before leaving.
I knew these meetings and planning sessions were necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like them. Today’s meeting allowed me to understand why most cultivators that gained a territory left the management in the hands of non-cultivators. I managed to convince myself that doing the work myself was necessary.
Although a hands-on approach was mentally draining and time-consuming, it had to be done. I would much rather have spent my time and energy practicing martial techniques, gathering resources, or cultivating. If my territory was well established and had the people in place to manage it well, I might have relied on others. But it wasn’t, and I felt obligated to do the best for the millions of people that resided within my Fief.
As an Elf, I would live a thousand years. Those years would only increase as I cultivated. I had the time to do what was right and what I thought best to nurture and promote my territory.
I could take these first few decades, even centuries, to build a Fief I was happy with. One I could be sure would benefit the people living here—one where my family could live happily and safely.
It wasn’t a case of either/or. I wouldn’t ignore training, gathering resources, or cultivating. I would need to strike a balance.
I was already much further along on my cultivation path than I had any right to be. Without the Heavenly opportunities I’d found myself embroiled in. I wouldn’t expect to reach Qi Condensing Realm for another decade.
That I had already approached the mid-stage of that Realm was an insane growth rate for anyone. I might not be considered a genius, but my advancement could be attributed to my hard work. I hadn’t been fed pills and gifted with artifacts and treasures to help me advance.
Unfortunately, I had to endure hardships. I was trapped under a mountain, a Nascent Soul Realm Cultivator attacked my town, and I found myself in a life and death battle against Daniel, each setback necessary to progress as far as I had.
My advancement came with a fresh set of problems. If Clan Velize ever found out that Daniel had shared the secret of the paper used in missives, I wouldn’t last a week. I was still trying to think of a way to let the Emperor know without being caught or identified as the person who had discovered the secret.
Informing the Emperor of what Daniel had said would need to wait. I wanted to verify Daniel’s boast. I needed to spend time examining the paper used for missives. I wanted to know how they were doing what they were. The mechanics involved in getting a copy of any missive might come in useful, even if I never used the application as Clan Velize had.
I could see several applications where it might come in handy. If I could figure out the secret, I thought I might add a text messaging functionality to the communication devices I had Ming and Bao working on. There had to be a feature involved in the copy procedure that allowed the messages to be shared and sent over distance.
Storm and I were going to give the area where the Hunter’s who disappeared another look, now that I had escaped from my obligations. It had been a while since we had explored together. The only time we spent together was traveling back and forth to the Sect. Storm’s perception abilities were advanced enough that I could leave her on her own to map my territory, but that wasn’t what our bond was meant for.
Our fates.
Our lives.
Our futures were intertwined, and we worked better together. We were meant to be a team. Storm’s perception merged with mine, allowing us to perform in tandem and perform both a widescale and tightly focused search of an area. A practice that was impossible individually. This duality of perception meant that what one might miss, the other might find.
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“Sister,” Storm shouted in joy both along the tether of our bond connection and vocally as her piercing cry trumpeted her arrival. She had barely arrived before I leaped, my Qi circulating as I flew to join her.
“Let’s race!” She trilled as I gained altitude.
I indulged her need to play and reconnect with me. To experience the happiness of that moment. We would get to searching for the missing hunters, eventually. But if Storm hadn’t found them by herself, I was almost certain they had been eaten by something and were long dead. There was no need to hurry, not when we could spend time playing. And flying.
Our race became more than a contest of speed the farther we traveled. It became a contest of aerial acrobatics, tests of endurance and daring, and a game of tag. Deep dives toward the ground only to pull up at the last moment. Corkscrew turns, loops, and maneuvers resulted in stalls and thrust vectoring, only possible for those proficient in flying.
Our game of tag became a real competition, and the use of thrust vectoring was ideal for bleeding off speed and allowing the pursuer to over-take and pass you by. The trick was to accelerate beyond vertical, a maneuver much easier for me to accomplish than Storm. At some point, your velocity is negated, and you hover in place. When you transitioned from flight to stillness, that second can be hard to guard against, and Storm would always overshoot my position, allowing me to escape or pursue.
Storm trilled in delight the first time I used the trick on her. That trilling enjoyment turned to disgust and then claims of cheating as I did it again and again. Those complaints only increased as she found it almost impossible to emulate my method.
Her body wasn’t built to allow her to hover in place. She would need to learn to rely on her Qi instead. Rocs were born with strength, endurance, and speed in mind, but the muscle and wing configuration required to hover was beyond them.
“Sister, stop cheating,” Storm finally complained as she did a little cheating of her own. She had called a storm and directed the wind from her creation to begin battering at me, forcing me to not only dodge her attempts to ‘tag’ me but the changes in air currents the storm manifested.
It only made it more satisfying each time I managed to escape, only to get within reach of Storm and claim victory with a minor release of my lightning element, letting her know she’d been caught once more.
“You win, Sister,” Storm lamented, finally realizing that my ability with the thrust vectoring maneuver gave me an advantage she would need time to learn or find a counter for.
“I’m sorry, Storm,” I said in response to the sounds of chuffs and warbles that signaled her sadness. “How about we dance instead?”
I tried to practice my fighting forms with her when we had time. The more we practiced, the more we understood and could adapt to each other’s movements. I still had five techniques that I had barely begun to master, and Storm watching as I grew frustrated when practicing would restore her good humor.
Three of the Katas, [Thunder Strikes], [Moon Opens], and [Wind Over Water], could take advantage of the expansive area we were flying over. They were fighting form that used my Tessen, requiring precision between movement and Qi to be effective.
[Thunder Strikes] required me to close the Tessen, striking the closed weapon against each other before channeling Qi through the tines and opening the Tessen again. The resulting explosion of Qi and sound created a powerful force. The explosions sounded like a rolling wave of thunder if I chained the technique, and as I controlled the speed and pace of each movement, I could interlace each roll of thunder with lightning strikes.
The Qi energy released was a sound attack, the damage a series of vibrations that stacked. The damage increased each time I added another [Strike]. It was especially effective against earth-type beasts. The solid and grounded nature of the animal took increased damage as the vibrations produced from the Kata were absorbed, shattering bones and tearing organs apart.
Storm had learned she could provide support and additional damage to the attack if she performed a fly-by at an opportune moment. If she aimed and released a gust of focused wind from her powerful wings at just the right moment, the area for the sound damage could be expanded.
She wasn’t fast enough to supply that additional force for every [Strike], but we had found if she timed her help and arrived with the first [Strike] allowed each further [Strike] to remain ‘buffed.’
The technique required coordination between the two of us. A coordination that took a lot of focus and practice to get right. I had to time the release of my [Strike] so that it intersected with Storm’s gust of wind.
It may appear to those observing that we acted in concert, but in truth, I had to wait for a micro-second for Storm to attack before buttressing her maneuver with [Thunder Strike]. It was only by allowing her to act first that our attacks could sync the synergy of the attack merging.
The reason timing became an issue was complex, a matter of physics. My sound attack traveled faster than the gust of wind that Storm released. I had to time the attack to encompass and enfold the wind so that both actions combined.
The work required to perfect the timing was exhausting for both of us. But it made for a better connection between our bonds. A deeper understanding and awareness of where the other was and what they were doing as we practiced blossomed.