Fromir and the Shie sat next to him comfortably. The tiny critters all breathed in sync, curled up against Fromir’s stomach. The stone fox carried a warmth to it that didn’t quite make sense, yet Ryke had never been one to care much. It just meant the Taura could keep him warm. It grew through eating the flesh of the strong, yes, but it seemed to particularly benefit from the vitality that leaked from Ryke as the boy meditated. As a result, Ryke often found himself with a comfortable smooth stone propped against his back.
It was much the same today, yet the meditation was much more important. His vital pathways all had faint traces of scorch marks that slowly flaked off as his vitality coursed through like water. More and more tides came and went from the vortex beneath the Aurelius Flame, surging towards his head and carving seeking their end result. At first the tides broke against the faint wall he sensed within his mind yet little vitality was wasted, instead going back to his vitality vortex and coming back again as a new current. Stronger.
His experience with the Ignar Peonies created enough energy to carve out all the pathways within his body that lead to his senses. It even instantly refined two of them. The resulting damage however caused Ryke to spend a majority of his time and effort healing and making sure no sequelae was left, even after the Augur removed most of the injuries. Ryke first made sure his pathways were strong and able to sustain the raging current his Scripture maintained, then he slowly started refining his senses. That’s why he only managed to refine one more after a month.
With one last deep breath that invisible barrier broke and his sense of smell was refined. Everything in the room instantly felt more clear. Alive. The air felt pure and fresh, separated from all the other smells that usually accompanied it. Vaguely he understood that his nose can now act as a filter, as dumb as that sounded.
The smell of moss and petrichor that came from his stone companion, the foul odor of the Shie, clearly needing to be washed. The faint smell of blood on his clothes and weapon that no amount of washing can really remove. It was all so clear to him at this moment. When his vitality began it’s circuit once again it gained speed and strength compared to before. Ryke wondered why.
Realistically the sense of smell can’t really do much. None of the senses should be able to strengthen vitality because they don’t accumulate it. So why is their refinement necessary? The senses were how you perceive the world and they’re clearly important to the Centurion Path, Sigmar even stated Darriwil couldn’t advance beyond Ignitio because he had lost his sight and couldn’t figure out how to go beyond it.
Was it that perception that mattered? Or rather, their experience of the world? The refinement of the senses both purified vitality yet added something more to it. Ryke grinned, thinking he finally figured it out.
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Ryke watched as his group scattered throughout the Ludus’ Scripture Hall, each going towards their affinity. Lycus apparently saw no need, but the rest all decided they’d follow their leader's example and find something that matched their personality and methods better. It might be a more complicated scripture in the short-term, but in the long run they’ll benefit. According to the Lanista at least.
Their particular instructors for their weapons of choice didn’t all enter Aenebra with them, so many were now taught by Stone Lotus Guards who retired from the field. When it came to more Centurion specific inquiries, they were all left with Sigmar as their teacher. Luckily he didn’t seem to mind. He even grinned somewhat when the whole group asked to switch their scriptures out, as if proud they finally caught on.
Ofrir came back with a new metal Scripture that focused on hidden sharpness. He felt it was particularly fitting as it helped prevent internal damage from ‘sharp’ vitality while still producing it when infused into a weapon. He had no idea if he could create a ‘shape’ from it though. Maximus chose a new Earth scripture that focused on durability and a simple heart. Kievra’s new scripture focused on explosiveness, whilst Drisnae’s focused on sustainability and permanence. After a while of searching, only Caius decided his original fit him the best.
Coming out, they all handed a copy of the Scripture of their choice for Sigmar to evaluate. When he approved the whole lot of them rushed off to immediately start practising. Even Lycus joined them to make sure no one hurt themselves. Eventually he was left alone with his Instructor and..
He booked it into the city.
It wasn’t long before Cassia found him, still panting and out of breath. He wasn’t even able to raise his head and speak before she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out into the crowds of people. Every attempt to speak was met with air abruptly filling his lungs. When she finally stopped, Ryke found himself by the Bastion wall. A grassy field surrounded by stone trees and the bright crystal ceiling illuminating the Boundless Dark like stars, the boy was stunned for a moment. It was beautiful.
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“Why do you want to become a Centurion so bad?” Cassia sat beside him, hugging her knees and using a hand to pull him down beside her. “Isn’t it.. Dangerous?”
“More than I imagined.” Ryke stated bluntly as he was pulled down to sit. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the false night sky above. “But that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Why not?” The mysterious girl baulked. “You could die. A random Devil could walk out from the forest and off you during a mission. A beast could wake in the pond you use for freshwater and devour you all in your sleep. Even the First Emperor was assassinated in seclusion.”
“He was?” Ryke’s eyes widened. As far as he and everyone else knew, The Ezros Emperor was a hero who united humanity and led them away from slavery under the Fera Empire. Such a figure was assassinated? Cassia kept going, however.
“Mhm. He wasn’t even as strong as the Imperator was now when it happened. It’s part of the reason Falenval is so venerated. The First Centurion beat the First Mage.” The girl chuckled.
A sense of pride welled up in Ryke’s chest. He didn’t know why, he had never even met a mage before. But knowing his people had won, even in such a minor way, lit a fire in his chest. A figure even more grand than the Ancestor of humanity, that was the man his father served.
Grinning, the boy finally ripped his gaze away from the ‘sky’ above and looked at Cassia. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
Ryke shrugged and laid down in the purple grass, his head slightly tilted to keep the green haired girl in view. “I don’t know. I thought Centurions were these grand figures of strength. Invincible and unkillable. Yet the moment we set out for a first real ‘mission’ one of my new friends died and one of our Instructors gave his life for us.”
“I still remember it. A devil found our group after we fell, and Sigmar left to go fight. The saber instructor stayed behind and ended up fighting another devil. He blocked an attack aimed for us and had his chest cut open because of it.”
“My eyes hadn’t been refined then, but I swear I saw the bones in his chest. Yet he didn’t even flinch. He stood between us and death like his own life didn’t matter. I’ve wondered why ever since. If he was still alive the Bastion would have one more expert to help in this ‘siege’ whilst all the youth would probably be dead.”
Cassia sat there silently. For once she didn’t feel the endless need to move, nor did her body feel restless. She sat there and thought for a moment, then closed her eyes. “He was defending the future.”
“What?”
“The candidates. Your friends. You. He was defending Cinefra’s future.”
Ryke fell into a thoughtful silence. He really did just want to see the world outside Jekan at first. When Sigmar questioned his resolve, he didn’t know what to do. Even now he still felt weak. Nothing like a Centurion of his dreams. Just another dumb kid. He still didn’t really know what his plans were beyond surviving right now. Bringing his friends out of here. Yet, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. That’s right, he didn’t need to focus on all that yet. He hadn't grown up yet.
He was the future.
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“Hold.
The ramparts were filled with Legionnaires and Centurions alike. Barrels of oil, racks of bows and arrows, case after case of polearm all lined the floor. The stench of blood and sweat overwhelmed all other senses as the standing army of Jekan’s Bastion stood ready for war. Thousands of eyes lay in wait within the treeline, each and every one filled with a hunger for flesh and blood.
“Hold!”
Metal shifted and armour creaked, every soul on the wall readying themselves. The first wall of people consisted of men and women holding weapons, crouched down and ready to strike the moment something leaped onto the wall. The second line consisted of the archers, holding their bows high and ready to pull an arrow when commanded. The third line consisted of the Officers. People of great strength, charged with keeping the lines stable, giving out orders and dealing with anything that requires more than just cannon fodder. The beasts grew restless within their territory. Waiting. Eager. Hungry.
“Hold!”
Sigmar stood at one of seven watchtowers scattered across the wall. He saw the Stone Lotus Guard who have yet to climb the wall, and the other peak powerhouses of the Bastion waiting in their own Watchtower. Silex, Gaeldir, and an unknown old man all sat silently drinking tea at the Bergfried in the middle. Waiting for their own opponents. Outnumbered. The Lanista found his own student, Ryke leading his group as a squad within the Legionnaires, yet to wield the strength required to be anything more. Silently, Sigmar prayed. To any god that was listening, Lilevas, the White Serpent, the Sea God and the God of War. He prayed his students would be safe. Then he steeled his heart, waiting for the final order.
“Fire!”
All hell broke loose.