Luthando Moya
Another group of warriors comes into view as we fly towards the next village tucked away between these small mountains. They are dressed as all the rest were and armed like the previous groups in varied sharp implements which I have no doubt they can use implacably. These mortal warriors are not like the others of their kind though, there is something about them that makes me instinctively weary.
‘’See how they stand defiant?’’ Luvuyo exclaims excitedly with a grin as he points at the 200 warriors standing on the field before the first building of the village. ‘’How many have you taken alive for me thus far?’’ he asks one of the Faceless and apparently gets a response internally.
10 Faceless are sent down, fresh ones now that the array has been reported stable, Faceless until now only used in scouting and looting. About 20 of the locals break off to face the 10 Faceless while the rest break away as though they won’t be part of the initial clash. Judging by their confidence alone this exchange ort to be good.
‘’How about I trade my share of the loot we collect in this village for the privilege of taking this fight cousin,’’ Luyolo says to me with a wicked grin.
‘’Done,’’ I say quickly and the scorn on his face for me is scathing as he floats down towards the rest of the welcome party. The others look at me with varying degrees of pity and scorn as well but none voice their thoughts. They all consider me a cripple that will never amount to much, this loot is worth more than your consideration.
CRACK
Without preamble the Faceless and the 20 mortals facing them clash and the sky cracks as they meet and for the first time since I’ve come of this mission I find myself thoroughly surprised. I close my mouth with a click as skill meets skill and the superior training and cultivation stages of the Faceless wins out against the determined brutality of the defenders.
Within a second two of the defenders are a red stain on the ground but the blood of a faceless cut in half misting through the air has everyone else as surprised as I am at the initial exchange. The Faceless get serious in that one second after the first casualty to these puny creatures and one after another the mortal defenders die even as their weapons change shape, twist about or unleash torrents of power whose origins I can’t trace.
Another Faceless falls, another is injured but within 40 seconds the exchange is over and not a single defender remains standing as the angry Faceless trample over their eviscerated corpses.
‘’This can’t be right, mortal grade weapons shouldn’t harm tempered bodies,’’ Luvuyo says with an accusing frown directed at me.
‘’Little cousin, pray tell what your interest is in collecting these implements? Surely you didn’t realise they were a danger to us and said nothing in warning because that would be negligence that borders on treason. You wouldn’t keep valuable information from us would you?’’ Noluvuyo asks her cutting smile directed at me.
‘’I honestly don’t think they are using the same type of weapons the others have,’’ I say removing a single-edged sword from my spatial item casually tossing to a nameless Faceless close by. It uses quite a bit of strength at my urging but it bends the weapon easily enough for the others to stop looking at me with hostile eyes.
Hmmph, Noluntu huffs seemingly satisfied. ‘’Let's see how our cousin does against this bunch and reserve our judgments for after.’’
‘’Judgement for after! Do you know how much time and resources it takes to raise a Faceless to the Silver? Cousin, after this we will have words.’’ Luvuyo says then in an instant shoots off and lands by Luyolo’s side to whisper in his ear. I say nothing, I don’t know why they blame me for shit beyond my control. I cross my arms and watch what happens next feigning indifference to the threat my very dangerous cousin directed at me.
A squad of Faceless lands around them but stays back as Luyolo smirks excitedly at the added danger Luvuyo informs him of. Without warning, he launches himself directly at the 180 or so mortals remaining. In an instant he is amongst them punching, kicking swerving dodging piercing backhanding rolling amongst them like a maelstrom. They try to order themselves so as not to impede each other but he is too fast for them, far too fast.
ZWEEE...
SPLAT!
The noise of some of the abilities the mortals have activating is ear-splitting but the little that does manage to graze him only damages his robes leaving unblemished ebony skin beneath. He slaps one then manages to cut a scratch across his exposed shoulder, caving in the mortal’s helm shattering its face before paying attention to others pressing on every side. A mistake as the dazed mortal does something and unerringly its spear point goes directly for his heart.
The noise is ear-splitting as Luyolo is forced to use a defensive Technique to stop the weapon from piercing right through his skin.
‘’Did that mortal just use a Technique?’’ an incredulous Noluntu says having sensed as my wrist-band did the flair of chi like something used by the mortal in that attack.
‘’Impossible!’’ Noluvuyo says, ‘’not once before now have any of us sensed any trace of chi in any of our scouting throughout this area.’’
‘’Doesn’t mean there aren’t any cultivators in this world, just that there are no cultivators in this region and these mortals could belong to someone much more dangerous than they are,’’ I say thinking out loud lest I be accused of hogging information again.
‘’But this entire world has been blank of chi since we got here. The rocks, the air, the wind the rain; its all been blank of any chi intent till that mortal did something.’’ Noluntu says in confusion, I’m also confused as now again there isn’t a trace of chi I can sense in any of them. Not that my chi senses are anything to write home about, I'm barely above a mortal myself. But my wrist-band array is a tool that helps with that.
My chi senses are shameful for someone in the 2nd century so I defer to my more talented cousins in this department whilst watching the fight unfold. Luyolo continues to beat them into the ground, into the air, into each other. Almost every mortal he touches dies to the force of his blows with the mortal armour nothing but paper to his superior physique.
BAM, BAM, BAM. Dead, dead, dead.
Another mortal activates a Technique turning into a shadow Luyolo’s arms and legs harmlessly pass through before stabbing him through the back with as solid a blade as I have ever seen. Using Claw Fist he reaches over his shoulder and crushes the mortal's skull without paying much attention to the blade stuck through his torso.
‘’I don’t think we should keep any of these alive, I think we should kill them all,’’ Noluvuyo says watching the spectacle with a frown.
‘’Oh I disagree, I think any that survive here will make glorious Faceless if they complete the training.’’ Luvuyo’s voice reaches us from where he stands watching the spectacle close up.
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I float down towards one of the discarded blades of the fallen warriors still trying to kill a cultivator in Initial Element realm of cultivation. Admirable of them but they should see by now that Luyolo is still only having fun only using Techniques sparingly.
‘’It's the weapons,’’ I say trying to observe the weapon but somehow having it prevent me.
‘’What?’’
‘’It's the weapons, how these mortals are able to kill body tempered cultivators and use chi techniques without chi of their own. The weapons have chi!’’ I say in utter surprise as I flinch dropping the weapon as it somehow fights my hold.
Shit, maybe I shouldn't have revealed that.
*
Daoine Sidhe Carmella
The acrotia gardens at the back of the sidhe fae’s estate are beautiful. Every blade of grass, every flower, every shrub bush and tree in perfect harmony with every other plant in such a way that the ambience of the entire area is soothing, providing relief from all curable mental ailments. The birds, bees and butterflies that dare to make their homes here grow strong in the lush environ with the fae servants lovingly tending the gardens enjoying the bounty of nature.
Three sidhe fae sit not far from each other enjoying the strange colours in the twilit sky created by the changing weather patterns resulting from the changing of the world energies. For two days the three sidhe have been sitting Carmella’s gardens enjoying the spectacle of energies changing in an entire world. A rare sight even for creatures thousands of years old.
Daoine Carmella, Daoine Vevina and Daoine Miran sit together communicating without words as they watch from exile the ending of an age by reading the energies in the sky, a glorious experience. Vevina is playing an instrument with 16 strings, 4 of which with sounds so low of frequency that only the fae and the animals are able to hear and enjoy her talents. The birds abandoning their own songs as she thrums the strings so as not to disturb the beauty created by the sound with their pale imitations of singing.
Fae servants go about the garden pretending to be very busy so as to also enjoy the ambience created by the music, the garden, the changes in the aether and the comfort of being in the presence of the powerful. A servant refills Miran’s silver goblet with red ambrosia before slinking away becoming indistinguishable from the bushes she stands against to casual observers.
The three, part of the Nine Sidhe, known throughout the continent of Sandaria for their presence alone inspires speculation and gossip, wonder and fear in equal amounts. They communicate silently discussing the precarious state of the world, the shifting of terrains and the waking of beings long asleep from their places of rest. They discuss the possible implications of the opening of the portal gates and what will happen to the world when it is exposed to the denser energies of the upper worlds.
Already reports of mass Awakenings have reached their ears through the many fae that travel the world through the Groves. Talk of strange creatures coming through to prey on the weaker beings of the planet. Armies and other opportunist coming from Omega to prey on the Gaians setting themselves as lords and kings over the inhabitants that have no recourse but to submit.
The title of world Custodians has never been more ripe for the taking but the one civilisation that has even a shadow of a chance of wrestling that title from the Courts facing invasion from armies coming in from Omega. The three discuss, speculate, plot how best to take advantage of the situation to benefit themselves. Manoeuvring themselves and their interests from the serenity of their gardens to claim for themselves places of power in the world of Omega as the Omegians lay claims on Gaia.
‘’Daoine, pardon the interruption but a guest has arrived.’’ The fae majordomo Anos says needlessly with a bow. Needlessly because Carmella and the others long sensed the approach of the Court Communicant.
The woman walks towards the garden without stopping, her feet touch the ground yet she floats forward gracefully without a gate. The train of her cream glittering gown leaves flowers blooming in her wake the scent of which puts all who smell it at ease in her ethereal presence. The others appear one after another in their own ways until all Nine sidhe fae of Paradisum are present to receive Word from Court.
‘’Greetings cousins, many blessings and good health to you and yours.’’ The Communicant says waving her arms as her buff washes over all in her present such that all ailments and malaise are cleansed from the recipients of her blessing.
‘’Greeting to you cousin, you are welcomed at our hearth,’’ Makin says on their behalf indicating for the stone bench if the messenger chooses to sit, she doesn’t. Instead she looks curiously at those gathered before her, a rare occurrence indeed for her to be sent to exiles and such a curious bunch of exiles at that.
‘’I bring word from Court,’’ she says trying not to stare at the two sidhe without horns to indicate their age and power. She notices other curiosities as well; like the 4 metal rings Yaffa has on her fingers, the silent instrument the Iceress Vevina is silently strumming, the uncanniness of the presence Carmella gives off. The fact that Tormentor is completely invisible to her senses though she can clearly see he isn’t a projected illusion. To her all of them are but babes yet each in their own way having a power whose veil she cannot see beyond, curious indeed.
‘’Which Court deigns to send us word honoured cousin?’’ Makin asks taking a seat on an stone bench that suddenly appears as he softly lands his rump on it.
‘’Court,’’ The Commnucant says cutting through the bullshit that she senses would otherwise be coming. They say nothing, she senses nothing from them but without a doubt she knows they’ve just communicated though for the life of her she couldn’t say how. Makin indicates that she should speak as though the Court Communicants needs his leave to do so. His insolence knowing no bounds.
‘’You will take no part in the wars of men and beasts on this world for any reason other than in defence of your own lives. You will breed no other spawn with mortal beings nor teach or advise them in our ways. Your servants and retainers are free to do as they please but as part the Custodian race you are forbidden from any direct involvement in the current conflict of the world.’’ The words are delivered crisp and clearly with each one binding with threads of karma even the powerful cannot disregard.
The Nine silently look on having felt the power of the Communicant as she bound them to the will of the Court. Spoken words that cannot compel them to obedience but there are always consequences for any and all that break the Words of the Communicant, one of the oldest Court servants alive.
‘’Why bind us with your Words cousin, surely as exiles from Home and Court we are of no consequence to the greater schemes of the Monarchs. Besides, would it not be foolish of us not to take advantage of the opportunity presented by this chaos? The world will eventually break from this deluge of higher energies and then it will evolve providing more than enough energies for those at home to created another living planet if they so please.
‘’What will we have cousin? We exiled from our home for ‘consorting’ with mortals beyond what is considered proper by those prudes. Would you also, one of the Old Guard of our race confine us with your Words because of the petty politics of the courts?’’ Yaeshawn speaks taking the opportunity presented to them.
Though the words of the Communicant are always final and binding it is possible to negotiate with her such that she speaks more words that could bind karma in their favour. A double edged sword hardly ever used for petty politics as it is known she sometimes ends up blessing those she is sent to curse. A dangerous messenger to those who send her, a messenger with her own will that binds all who hear her. Even those at Court to whom she will report and she returns and that presents an opportunity the others cannot pass on.
‘’We are too old and powerful to claim for ourselves territories on Gaia, we are too old and powerful to share our knowledge with the mortals we choose to surround ourselves with, we are too old and powerful to have children and groom strong bloodlines to conquer in our stead. And they send you, one of the protectors of our people to curse us with their words at a time when we see opportunity for ourselves.
‘’Are our crimes so vile that we can never go home, never make a home or defend those who choose to give us warmth in their own homes? They say we horde spirit ore deposits for ourselves to gain wealth yet they know they are our only trade partners for anything of value. They say we conspire with spirits to gain unnatural powers because in their stagnation they fear anything they do not understand. They disparage us for sharing knowledge that will empower our chosen host people yet command us to nothing as they are slaughtered and we are driven away.
‘’For if they Barbarians are slaughter and Paradisum burns around us we will be forced to flee like homeless snakes unlike directly attacked by these opportunist from Omega. All this because we have found ourselves power that may threaten their own?’’ Yaeshawn ask brandishing hiltless sword from thin air to rest its edge on the ground. The Communicant flinches at the sight of it, a weapon she feels has the potential to give even her a final death.
She frowns taking her eyes away from the hiltless blade with an edge of black and silver. ‘’If ever Gaia evolves and you are still alive when that occurs you may claim for yourselves a home amongst this rubble, otherwise my words have been spoken and they are final.’’ The Communicant says, bows her head then leaves as suddenly as she had arrived.