Rayna handed three silver lucros to the old man in exchange for the azuline armband. Lessiel said to spend the coin on ‘anything’ we require. She gently slid the trinket up to her bicep, proceeding to walk away from the stall. The night’s cover of fog was nearly at an end, displaced in tiny puffs for each step of her boots.
The streets were sparsely occupied in the early morn, though even at the city’s busiest, the crowd would not be enough to blanket the stone beneath the market. Not like the cities of Arenite and Diorrus. The Shadowmancers did not speak much of the outside cities, but the marketplace was often fresh with new ventures, and word of happenings in the nearby cities. If one knows where to look. Rayna would loiter the outskirts of the main circle, where the Andescions that did not belong to the ‘guilds of three’ took up shop.
It was there that she overheard an older man talk about the beautiful festival of Mabon, that took place in Diorrus. The changing of seasons were important milestones for each cycle’s rotation. During the Autumnal Equinox, Diorrus held resplendence like none other. The city would open its doors for all to enter, with no regard as from where they came. For four moons straight, they eat and drink their hearts content while praising the wisps for watching over us. A tradition Andescion perhaps will one day partake in once more.
Rayna took her time as she peered from stall to stall. The Andescion people covered the outer reaches of the market with makeshift stalls, some even with sigils either carved in wood at the front or emblazoned on the cloth itself. No sigil could mask the mark of the Deathwalker though.
Three children of their first birth, no more than ten cycles each, ran past Rayna. More likely than not running errands for the shopkeepers. Children and adult alike bore the mark, and nearly all in these parts were plagued with the burden.
Even outside the main market’s circle, she was looked at differently now. She pulsed her left hand open and closed without realizing it. Though her branding had been removed half a fortnight prior, the mark’s burn lingers still.
For a once prosperous city the display was pitiful. Poverty will always consume those not born again in the fire. The outskirts were no comparison for the house funded shops though. Even from this far out she could see the bold displays of pearl and black, reigning in the Shadowmancer district. Behind the Shadowmancer’s district would lie the other two edges of the main district equally separated for the Devote of Blade and the Andescion Legions.
A shop with daggers laid out across a table caught her eye. There were not many uniquely styled weapons outside of Andescion craft since Andescion closed its gates to foreign merchants, at least on open display for the guilds to see. Some shopkeepers would boast they had seen all different types of weapons and armor, but it was well known getting outside the city limits was much easier than returning. Unless you wear a sigil of the three.
Lessiel had given enough coin to buy any of the daggers she wished, but she knew better than to buy a weapon outside of Shadowmancer craft. She continued to walk the outskirts, and from here she could see the other two main districts as they came into view from the distance.
The Devote took an equal third of the marketspace, with shining banners in the forest’s green, with filemot accents on the intricate embroidery that lined the corners. The structures towered in comparison to the outer city limits.
The Legions took the final section of the circle, bearing emblems with deep crimson and burnt charcoal to define their third of the market.
The three factions towered in equal height, massive spires with their backs to the outside world, all facing downward and inward. Sheltering the greatness within.
The next shop in row caught her eye with assorted glass of various sizes. There were more colors contained than she ever fathomed. In particular, a crescent staircase display of 75mm vials. The bottom row contained different hues of grinded minerals in their purest of forms. The rising ranks however, are more obscure in their contents.
The old man who tended the stall sat with his feet perched on a stool and his gaze lost in a book titled ‘The Eye of the World.’
Rayna found herself gazing at the different vials and the potentially precarious ingredients they contained. Some resembled plants in their infancy, others held more obscure forms, but all were contained in a liquid tinted by the item within.
Rayna reached at a pale grey-yellow vial and let it roll in her hand. The liquid was thick, allowing the tiny purple balls of flower to slowly move inside.
“Pennyroyal.” When Rayna turned around to find the speaker, Rowan stood smiling with her hands behind her back. “Good morn Rayna.”
Rayna’s eyes widened with the surprise of another Shadowmancer over in the outskirts. “Hello Rowan.”
Rowan was taller than the average woman in Andescion, even some of the men. An argent stream of hair flowed down to her breast on one side, while the other half rested at her backside. She wore a cerulean low-cut dress, that she managed to fill quite well, and with that a hanging tungsten chain necklace supporting a small vase-shaped vial at the end of it.
Rowan stepped next to Rayna and plucked the vial from her hand for her own inspection. “Pennyroyal for sure. One swig of the vial will give you about sixty minutes’ worth of added protection.” She shook the vial. “As long as it is properly crafted.” The tiny balls of flower danced slowly as Rowan held it in her hand. “The thicker the liquid, the stronger the potency.”
Rowan slid the isabelline vial of Pennyroyal in a compartment of her vambrace and began perusing the other vials. “Shouldn’t you be over in the Shadowmancer’s district?” Rowan gently grabbed a virescent vial with tiny leaves inside and began shaking the vial for consistency.
As Rayna watched, “Shouldn’t you?”
Rowan laughed and slid the next vial next to the first one. “I dare say Lessiel would have both our heads, but it’ll be our little secret.”
Rayna spotted movement in the corner of her eye and looked down to see a cinereous little creature rubbing up against Rowan’s leg. The creature spotted Rayna and stood up staring at her on its two hind legs. “Rowan, what is that creature?”
Rowan was rolling a cinnabar vial in her open palm with scarlet needlelike twigs inside, as she looked down to meet Rayna’s point of interest. She smiled and slid the vial with the other two. “You mean this little guy? Why, this is Lessy.”
The Lessy spiraled up Rowan’s leg and perched himself on her shoulder allowing Rowan to rub his cheek. As Lessy entered the light he became slightly transparent and tiny ashen vapors evaporated from his fur.
Rayna kept a bewildered stare at the display. “And what exactly is a Lessy?”
“He’s a meerkat, I found him on the cusp of death in the Arkose Desert. His fellow companions left him to die after a hunt, so I preserved his spirit. Now the little guy hunts with me.”
The meerkat jumped back down and circled Rayna. “I call him Lessy, named after Lessiel.”
Rayna let a quick chuckle escape from her face. She tried to hide her smile.
Rowan smiled and bent her knees while letting a hand out to the meerkat. As Lessy returned, the tiny vapors off his fur grew until he faded out entirely. “Lessiel is not too fond of it.”
Rowan stood up and handed five tungsten orix to the old man and turned back to Rayna. “You should head to the East Gate with the others, my dear.”
“What about you, aren’t you coming with us?”
“I’ll be there shortly, I have one more task to take care of.” Rowan pulled the first vial from her vambrace pressed it into Rayna’s hands. She smiled, “For protection.”
Rayna searched for her remaining coins to repay the gesture, “I have – “
Rowan dismissed the notion, “Goodness no Rayna, tis a gift. I have no need for more coins.” She began to walk down the street, “Besides if I need more, I’ll bother Lessiel.” She turned and strode amongst the growing crowd until she faded amongst them.
Rayna eyed the Pennyroyal once more, then tucked it safely away. An odd, but wholehearted individual. She turned to the nearest alley that led back to the central circle.
Passing through the stone archways blocked out the morning’s light, but once she reached the other side, day broke through once more. She entered the central circle in between the Shadowmancer and Legion districts. Though the outskirts were in shambles, the inner circle showed no signs of hardship. The walkways were paved in well-cut stone, reflective off the growing light as she walked.
On the side of each walkway were bounteous amounts of luscious greens, some stretching up like fingers from the rich soil beneath. Vines delicately wrapped around the stone pillars and arches, humble to their design.
Rayna followed one of the paths along the Shadowmancer district, and as she got closer to the circle’s center she could feel the cool breeze growing in strength. Reyah’s Lace ran through the focal point below, interwoven across the city itself. The day’s endeavors will bring much more of your tranquil breeze.
Beside the ledge sat the statue of a wisp carved to the likes of Arias; The Delicate Huntress. She sat perched on a tree limb with a bow in one hand, and her wings resting below her. The statue was crumbling in places, but even through the cracked stone, she was beautiful.
The walkway strode back closer to the Shadowmancer district but the river wound deeper through the city, bringing the Shadowmancer Guild Castle up in the distance.
Up ahead Rayna approached the forge where Safeera had told each of the new recruits to inquire before heading to the East Gate.
The forge was far larger than any of the smithies on the market’s outskirts, but still no match for the workshop the Andescion Legions boasted. Rayna looked over to the other district, where the bowels of flame could be seen from their workshop as the smiths toiled their craft.
Weaponry and armor were their specialty and unmatched by the other two factions, that is for sure, however I have little interest in wielding a physical sword while the shadows provide their own protection.
Accented in the Shadowmancer pearl and black, the forge was a small marketplace in itself. The forge was modeled in a dome around the central stone pit that housed the burning flames for metalworks. An anvil every meter strategically placed for the multiple blacksmith and armor smiths to work simultaneously. Outside of the workplace leatherworkers had tanning racks set up as well.
Rayna quickly found herself lost in the establishment, the heat itself is near overwhelming. She peered into the constructed chasm, as close as she could bear to get. There is no bottom, instead her gaze was met with a fiery void of rolling flame and heat. She squinted as she pulled back, and tiny orange sparks danced in the rolling heat above the pit. Around the lip of the stone circle the sparks grew more vibrant, “I wouldn’t get no closer if you like the fur on your cloak.”
He stood shirtless with tree trunks for arms folded across his chest. A tall white-haired man easily in the late forties of his seen cycles, baring a thick grey mustache and stubble across his hardened face.
The man stepped past Rayna and to the nearest anvil where he lay down two ingots wrapped in a sweat soaked cloth. Despite his age he looked he could tear most of the Legions limb from limb with his bare hands. “You one of the new recruits?”
His voice was gruff, and had a familiar rumble to it, the likes of the fire itself. Rayna unclasped the Shadowmancer sigil she kept to the hip of her belt and held it in her hand before him.
The sigil itself was of polished metal. Six burning wings of a seraphim, outstretched from the Relinquisher in the center. The shadow creature held an orb of light in one hand, and an orb from the void in the other.
“You’ll have one of our sigils fastened to the armor itself, so you can hold on to that one.” Rayna clasped the sigil back in place. “I am forge master Grent Kilwood, and I have run this forge for over twenty cycles now.”
Rayna met his outreached hand and shook it firmly in turn, though in his grasp her hand felt barely that of a newborn. “Rayna Loxrow.” She looked around and finally the question hit her, “If the Shadowmancers don’t focus their eneryia towards weaponry, why the massive forge?”
Grent laughed. “You’ll never see Lessiel in plated armor, I’d wager you that. But that doesn’t stop him from being prepared for anything. Each Shadowmancer that goes through rebirth receives custom armor and weaponry to fit their liking. More oft than not the steel plate we do make is extremely light and versatile. Mere accents, as leathers are far more advantageous to our particular style of combat.”
Grent walked Rayna over to one of the tanning racks where one of the tanners was preparing a blood dyed cuirass for molding. “More than like you’ll never wear em, but better to have war-ready armor and never need it, than to have a time of need for armor, and not have it.”
Rayna watched the tanner work, “So be it. Where do I start?”
Grent looked her over head to toe and scratched at the scruff of his chin. “For you I’d design leathers, let me see what I can come up with. As for your weapons, the combination is your choice. A main and off-hand is where we will start.”
Rayna walked over to the weapon rack nearby and eyed them carefully one by one. She picked up a flail resting on the rack. The shaft was maybe half a meter in itself, but a long chain with a heavy curved blade at the end of it made for a peculiar weapon. Not quite what I’d want to rely on if need be.
She rested the weapon back and picked up a shortsword from its sheathe, light enough to quickly maneuver, yet weighted enough to utilize momentum. “The shortsword I would like for a main hand, and as for off-hand…”
Rayna rested the sword back in its sheathe, and walked amongst the second rack with an array of shields rested upon it. Grent walked past the rack and over to the next row where a table with daggers were laid out. “If I may suggest, a shield would only slow you down. The shadows are often shield enough.”
Rayna glanced past the shields over to the daggers and held one in her hand. They were all the same design, double-edged, long and thin down to the hilt. Grent picked one up as well. “30cm each of them.”
Grent hurled a sidearm throw at a large wooden log that had fallen victim to many other daggers. With a quick thump the dagger sunk quarter way through. “A handy offensive off-hand, as just as deadly as a throwing blade.”
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With enough practice, absolutely. Rayna laid the dagger back down. “How much is all of this?”
Grent walked over to the beaten log. “These daggers are made for others of the guild already.” He pulled the dagger from the wood with no effort. “We don’t sell outside of our own, so nothing is made without purpose.”
He wiped the blade clean with a rag and laid the dagger back on the table. Then brought his gaze back to Rayna. “On this day, all is paid for by Lessiel. New recruits get the custom work made for them at his own expense. If you ever need anything else made however, come to me and we’ll put that coin to good use.”
Rayna thanked Grent again and exited the forge. She stood still with her eyes closed for a moment, the breeze is seraphic after escaping the forge’s heat.
Rayna began making her way for the East Gate where the rest of the guild would be waiting.
As she approached the open area to the gate, a lot of the guild had already gathered. A lot of them she didn’t recognize but she spotted Rowan amongst the group, as well as Lessiel and Safeera talking near the gate.
She searched amongst the gathered for the other new recruits. What had might have been a squad of five, resulted in four, due to a certain idiocy. Eventually she spotted two of them.
Voltaen wore a perse toned trench coat, buckled with steel clasps across his chest on either side. His cowl was pulled down to his neck revealing his freshly cut autumn hair.
Devren took more of a liking to steel than the others. It lined his blackened leather pauldrons, as well as the like toned leather breastplate. Like many of the other Shadowmancers, shades of black and grey entailed most of his display. He has wanted this well through his first birth.
Both Voltaen and Devren were clean shaven, if they could help it, harboring only two more cycles than me. Lugus, the final piece to the group however, was the oldest of the new additions to the new Shadowmancers with a few cycles on all of them.
Voltaen and Devren were debating something trivial by the sound of it as Rayna approached. “Where’s Lugus?”
Voltaen made a sarcastic gesture with his hand and bowed. “Still has yet to grace us with his presence.”
Rayna chuckled and Lugus strode in an ebony leather trench coat, with a collar that covered his neckline. He wore no cowl, revealing the silk black hair that fell straight to the collar line. He stood almost a fifth of a meter over Rayna and a tenth over Devren and Voltaen.
“You know I can hear you, right?” Lugus stood amongst the other three recruits.
Voltaen smiled. “It was my intention that you did. Have you successfully harassed the blacksmiths into your obsessions?”
“The head smith Grent deemed himself unwilling or incapable to forging my design. I might as well have the Legions make it.”
Rayna rolled her eyes. “You should ask them to make you a helm while they’re at it so we can’t hear you complain anymore.”
Voltaen and Devren burst out laughing, Lugus was less than impressed.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Safeera making her way over to the four of them.
“You all have what you need, I gather?” She pulled her satchel out from behind her.
“There is one more item you all must have.” From her satchel she pulled out four freshly bound books and handed them to each of the four recruits in succession. The scent of leather burst from the turning pages.
“These srola books may seem empty and lifeless for now, but as these pages gain age and ink, you will find their power unsurpassed.”
Voltaen scrolled through the empty pages, and stopped at the end, “What happens when the book is filled?”
Safeera looked Voltaen up and down, and shrugged, “A srola book’s pages are dictations of your life. If the last page is filled, surely life has left you for something better.”
Voltaen was left standing with his mouth agape while Safeera smiled and walked away from them.
The others drew their attention to Lessiel, who stood with his hands behind his back at the center of the gathered. Devren rested an arm on Voltaen’s shoulder, “If your story ends today, I’ll retrieve your new arms for you.” Before Voltaen could respond, Devren too had walked away.
The Shadowmancers gathered closer around Lessiel and Safeera. Lessiel directed his attention directly to the four recruits. “Today you take your first steps outside the city walls, while getting a hands-on experience with the eneryia you each hold within yourselves.” A day many spend their first lives dreaming of.
Lessiel spoke to all now, “We journey east along Reyah’s Lace, to the river’s source, and it is along that path we will unveil today’s lesson. If the scout’s findings are accurate, this may be a lesson for all of us.”
The gate cranked loudly with each pull, gear by gear. As it rose, a gust boomed through and the smell of fresh air grew as the breeze passed beneath the ascending doorway. Just as the river beckoned. Under watchful eyes they began to pass through the East Gate, an opportunity unobtainable once before.
Rayna watched as Lessiel and Safeera passed through at the front, with Rowan a few paces behind Safeera.
By the time Rayna passed the gate, the scenery was breathtaking. It was hard to believe such beauty was hidden behind Andescion’s tall city walls. A dirt path led down to the river itself. The river wound amongst the vast rolling hills, each blanketed in a coat of bright pear green grass. Every so often a jagged stone would protrude from the greens, texturing the landscape.
The westward movement of the river became clearer as they walked down the path towards the river bank. Each step sublime.
As the river rose into view, a dark oaken stable rested on a ridge above the rocky shoreline. Two Shadowmancers stood sentry at the main pillars of the confinement, and upon sight of the group walking down the river’s path they began leading coursers out from within one by one.
The trek began within minutes as the coursers were already saddled and supplied. Lessiel and Safeera rode at the front of the party, with the recruits riding in the middle, and armed Shadowmancers bringing in the rear.
The pace was at a steady trot, and the river’s path without end. Behind her, two of the armed men talking about wisps caught the attention of her and Voltaen. “I just don’t foresee a wisp turning back on a decision like that.”
The other man, a little taller, was much more enthusiastic about the discussion. “It’s not about turning back, more so turning onward.”
The first man continued while now even Devren and Lugus turned to look. “The wheel moves forward, never back.”
The two men paused once they saw the four recruits curiously watching.
Voltaen spoke without hesitation, “Which wisp do you speak of?”
“You don’t know the city’s protector?” The taller of the men with a thick black mustache rode up next to them, easily past thirty seen cycles. The surprised voice was almost raucous.
The recruits looked at him curiously, “Sorry lads, Sauden Vulog! Been a soldier for the Shadowmancers for over ten cycles now.”
Lugus looked him over, “This city has no protector.”
Sauden nodded to admission, “Aye but she used to. Arias of the Bloodwood Forest.”
Lugus turned back to the path ahead, but Sauden didn’t seem to notice and continued to the other three, excitedly. “It has been said that she made a loom in the trees of the deep forest, and with golden thread she weaves time itself.”
Rayna inquired, “Have you seen her?”
“Arias, no. But there was an encounter… quite conceivably a different wisp, yes… well, possibly. A few of us were by the Arkose Desert and there was a storm by the likes I’ve never seen. I could swear I saw a light within. It was enticing and I could not look away.
Rowan multiple meters ahead still managed to retort and without turning around, “You saw a sandstorm you arse.”
The recruits laughed except for Lugus, who didn’t seem to be paying attention.
Sauden called back after Rowan, “It was more than a sandstorm, you should have seen it!”
Sauden turned back to Rayna, Devren, and Voltaen, “One day she’ll return. And it’ll be by the Shadowmancer’s hand.”
One by one the conversations faded to silence, and the only sound to be heard was the rhythm of hoof meeting packed dirt. Even Voltaen and Devren have run out of discussion to debate.
The sun rested overhead bringing the day’s full light from horizon’s end to end, and there is solace in riding homeward in chase of the setting day’s star. The peak of the day however brought warmth, and it was still early enough in the season to avoid a sweltering journey.
Then what is that growing stench. Rayna searched amongst her nearby companions, but they had noticed the change in scent as well. In the midst of moving legs from under the coursers Devren pointed it out. A large northron raven lay wings sprawled in their path. The coursers paid it no mind, but my nose is much less unfazed.
As the bird passed under Rayna, the freshness in the air began to return. Rayna was ready to fall back into the hoof’s rhythm again when the stench came back and hit her a little stronger this time.
She caught sight of Rowan remounting her moving courser from the corner of her eye, and yet again another northron raven came to pass. Devren was covering his nose as he spoke, “Odd to come across two ravens in the same path, no?”
Lugus smiled sarcastically, “Stench too much for you? An incompetent trapper more than like killed them by accident and dropped them off his cart to abandon his shame.”
The pattern repeated itself for another kilometer, where the river widened and opened up to the city’s reservoir. The stench here was abysmal, it felt fresh.
Lessiel was the first off his courser, with Safeera close behind. It wasn’t till Rayna dismounted that she saw the field was littered with corpses of fallen raven.
The four recruits made way to where Lessiel and Safeera stood, while Sauden and some of the others gathered the coursers. As Rayna passed Sauden, the excitement she saw in his face before had vanished entirely.
Lessiel and Safeera walked amongst the dead while the rest of the guild stood waiting for their command. What task do you have in store for us?
Voltaen leaned closer to Rayna, “What beast do you think slaughtered them?”
Devren jumped in before she could respond, “A beast that kills for sport and leaves the prize? Unlikely.” He is right, all the meat remains… no blood spilled at all.
Lugus, “Whatever did this I bet they intend for us to kill it, as a test.”
Devren and Voltaen started to argue over what creature would leave this mark, while Rayna tried observing the scene ahead, “Shut up, you two.”
Lessiel called out to them, “Come see for yourselves.” The four recruits obeyed without hesitation and walked through the field to where Lessiel stood. Safeera was bent over one of the corpses near him, eyeing it very closely.
As the four approached the scene, Lessiel turned from them and nodded over to Safeera, “What do you see?”
Is it a trick? It must be a trick. Rayna stood curiously silent.
Lugus and Voltaen had no response as well, it was Devren that spoke first. “A species in need of preservation.”
Safeera kept her eyes on the raven while her fingers gently brushed the feathers of its chest. Rayna looked closer and very faintly, slowly the chest would rise and fall, this one is still alive!
Lessiel’s attention did not leave the raven, “This is true, but what else do you see?”
Devren took a step closer to the raven, “No creature of the realm would kill for sport and leave the prize.”
Lessiel drew his gaze back to Devren and the other three recruits. “No creature of the realm, indeed. What killed this unkindness is not of our realm at all.”
The other Shadowmancers had gathered in a crescent behind the four recruits, and all eyes were on Lessiel. “Arias used to be the protector of Andescion. It was she that taught the first of our kind the gift of eneryia. The skillsets she taught were her codes of law. The art of the Warrior, to defend ourselves from aggression. The art of the Ranger, to bring ourselves in oneness with nature. The art of the Shadowmancer, to preserve the balance in life and death. For death is just the beginning.
“These codes were how the people of Andescion learned to cultivate eneryia. Across the realm the wisps each teach us in their own ways, manifesting eneryia in various fashions, but the end-game is the same.”
The intensity in his voice began to rise. “During Andescion’s wartime many cycles ago, a state of malevolence overtook parts of the city. A group combined the practices of each skillset and bound themselves to efforts with a darker cause.
“A certain group, were known as Blood Rangers. Utilizing eneryia in such a way that was never intended. They sought to drain lifeforces entirely and harness the eneryia of living creatures for their own accretion.
Rayna and the other recruits looked at the corpse filled field once more, truly seen for the first time.
“Arias became enraged with the city as a whole for such malpractices. For consequence, it was too late for Andescion, Arias forswore the city and left her residence of the Bloodwood Forest.
“As for the Blood Rangers, the group fled the city and journeyed northward to practice their eneryia lust free of opposition. They are now a part of a larger collective, known as the Autechs.”
“Peace was founded on three guilds that preserved her codes to the core of Arias’ foundations, in hopes of laying foundation for her return.”
Safeera raised her head to face the new recruits. “This is why we brought you here. The eneryia that dwells in each of you, is intertwined with the very essence of your lifeforce. When you run you become physically stronger, as you use your eneryia, you also become stronger.”
Safeera motioned to the rest of guild standing behind them. “We are here to help you cultivate what already lies within you.”
“The wisps long ago taught us how to nurture our eneryia while preserving the land they gave us, thus we use our eneryia in balance with the other creatures of this realm.
Safeera looked back to the raven. “When a creature is dying however, and if you should ever come across a dying animal, it is your duty to preserve its spirit, so it may live once more. This involves draining the remaining lifeforce from the creature and channeling it to become one with your own.”
She glanced out across the corpse field. “What happened here was of no such noble deed. This injustice of the raven, were depleted of their lives in full health.”
Safeera called to Devren as Lessiel knelt beside her. “This one breathes, faintly, and will soon fade. Devren, we will start with you.”
Devren gracefully fell to his knees in front of the raven. Safeera took his hands and gently placed them over the raven’s chest. “Close your eyes and find your breath. Synchronize your breath to the raven’s own.”
All fell still around them, even the breeze seemed to choke upon breath. Safeera watched Devren intently. “Feel the eneryia that courses through you, focus it, and use that pressure to find the eneryia flow in the raven.”
Safeera leaned a little closer to Devren. “Bring your eneryia flow into unison. With each inhale–“ Devren’s eyes flickered for a moment then he pulled back vigorously searching for air. When he caught his breath, he sat bewildered. “I lost sight of my own breath while searching for the bond.”
Safeera stood up with him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “It is easy to lose sight of yourself when giving aide to another.” She looked to the other three recruits, “This exercise will be practiced together until mastered with independence.”
Lugus walked over to them and knelt close to the raven. Safeera joined him and repeated the process. His breath moved much quicker, aggressive almost.
He spent nearly twice the effort, to the same avail. Lugus too found himself drawn back gasping for air. As he rose in frustration, Safeera called over Voltaen. “You give it a try.”
Voltaen kept his eyes on the bird as he sat beside it with his gaze seemingly piercing through his eyelids when he closed them. Surely, he will succeed, if for nothing else than to spite Devren.
Voltaen moved his hands with the utmost delicacy and appeared to bind his breath to the raven’s rather quickly. He’s going to do it.
His eyes flashed open for an instant and Safeera grabbed him before he fell forward and crushed the bird. At this point a less painful death.
As Voltaen staggered back in defeat, Lessiel called Rayna over.
As she walked over the reality of the situation took hold. The bird lay on its side, taking slow serene breaths. The exposed eye would jump from person to person but otherwise the creature lay still, restrained to its own conscious.
Safeera leaned close and instructed her as she had the others. As Rayna focused on each breath, Safeera’s voice fell into the back of her mind, she closed her eyes and the world around her began to fade away.
Rayna lay both her hands gently over the bird’s feathers. Frigid to the touch, may my hands bring you warmth. Her hands moved with the rhythm of the raven’s chest. Rayna focused her breath and waited, where are you…
Like two cogs pressed against each other Rayna felt their breaths collide together, the tension wanting to give in either direction, one precise movement and we will mesh, one erroneous movement and we will both collapse.
As she took each inhale, she felt the eneryia flow through the veins in her arms, and it grew more and more vibrant with each passing moment.
The buildup was increasingly inundating, I am here, and will not turn away. Rayna struggled for her next breath, and she felt the raven’s eye grow frantic. I bring you no harm.
As she pushed through, the wave of tension subsided as the cogs locked jointly. A sweet sensation of serenity. The raven took its final breath and the eye grew still.
When Rayna opened her eyes her fingers felt lighter, and a surreal feeling of weightlessness overwhelmed her. She looked down and her feet were still bound to the dirt beneath her, but she slowly grabbed hold of the warm blades of grass, just to be sure.
Safeera and Lessiel rose at the same time, with Rayna gazing up at them, “His spirit now lives on inside of you. As you strengthen the bond and hone your craft, you will be able to conjure him back in the physical form.”
Lessiel added in with a studied look at Rayna, “That and much more.”
Safeera and Lessiel turned and walked back to the other recruits, while Rayna’s gaze was drawn to the now lifeless corpse of what was once a Northron Raven, now something much more. She knelt beside it once more, and plucked a feather off the bird, gently rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger, and safely tucked it away.
The pace of movement felt strange, whether it be from the raven or exhaustion, or both rather, but Rayna made way back to the others. Voltaen and Devren were astounded with her feat, even Lugus seemed impressed.
It wasn’t long before they were heading back to the coursers, but Rowan’s activity caught her eye in the midst of the group’s conversation. She went from raven to raven spilling a drop of the virescent vial onto each one.
As they drew near, Devren and the others seemed intrigued as well and the group stopped where Rowan was knelt. “Rowan, what are you doing?”
Rowan spilled another drop from the vial onto the raven’s eye and rose “Sage. It purifies against any foulness or corruption that may come from this creature in death.”
Rowan laughed at the look of confusion coming from their faces. “Should make them a tastier meal for night scavengers at the very least.”
Voltaen was not satisfied with that response, “Well now I have more questions!”
As they joined up with the coursers once more, Rowan humored Voltaen till the conversation digressed. Lessiel and Safeera were with the officers still on foot nearby. It was hard to hear with all the movement, but bits and pieces came into range.
“The other guilds must be told.” Safeera’s voice was distinct. Rayna sneaked quick glances over while she mounted, Lessiel did not speak from what she saw.
While waiting for the others to mount, Rayna remembered the srola book Safeera had given them. She curiously held it in front of her. When she opened it, the first page was filled in freshly dried black ink. At a glance she couldn’t understand the notation, but in the top left corner was a drawn black raven flying north and westward.