“I must say, dear, that I am a little cross with mistress Dew for sending Kite and his friends off before my return. My logical side can understand; we are in a surge after all. But still…”
“I am more worried what she will send him up against,” Dove countered her wife, the pair walking along a forest path toward a reported manifestation. “You know that Dew can be a bit… intense.”
“Oh, she will push them. Of that I am sure. But I trust mistress Dew,” Crow said, eyes scanning the surroundings while using her aura to search further away. This process was aided by a few strands of her dark hair having lengthened and floated up around the pair to form a simple but robust aura-enhancing formation. “So far, she has assisted our little Kite in more ways than we can know. It would surprise me greatly if she had suddenly had such a change of heart.”
“But Crow, he had a scar!” Dove complained. “Our little chick, all alone against some bitch of a silver-ranker-”
“Language, dear,” Crow admonished. “And while my heart was as filled with fright as I imagined yours was when you told me, the fact remains that our little chick isn’t so small any more. He’s a bronze-ranker now, which is more than good enough to stand for yourself in this part of the world. Heavens, the whole thing which got us out from our workshops was the thought of him beating us to silver rank.”
Taking a step closer, Crow put her arm around the waist of the taller woman and hugged her closer as they walked, letting the silence drag on for a while as her wife digested her words.
“Oh, beautiful Dove,” Crow thought with fondness as she felt the ripples on her love’s aura. “You may be able to digest almost everything and turn it to pills making wonders come true. Only risk or hurt to your loved ones is what always makes you choke a bit. But you’ll get there.”
The pair was drawn out of their reverie as Crow felt the pack of bronze-rankers they were sent out to hunt down. And with the aura-enhancer projecting her aura without too much subtlety, their prey had sensed them as well.
“Dove?”
“Just- just give me a little more time,” Dove grumbled, brows still creased in concentration.
“Then you will have to multitask, dear, because the pack is coming our way now. This might be an excellent time for you to push your confluence a bit further too. But I’ll always be here if you need me.”
Dove had indeed perked up a bit at her words, a dangerous glow in her eyes. “Thank you dear. I believe that it might help. Especially if I envision the face of the silver-ranked bitch who hurt my Kite on them as they wither.”
“Love, you don’t even know what she looks like.”
“And you, dear, underestimate the power of my imagination,” Dove countered, leaning down to kiss her wife before striding off towards the incoming pack of monsters; a rather large one at that.
Still, Crow did not fret as she let her hair carry her up into a nearby tree which she gauged would be the right distance away from the struggle that was to come.
“Dear Graceful Dove under the Moon, you having made more peace with your confluence brings serenity in equal amount to your wife,” Crow thought as she saw the fight begin. In the beginning, it was merely bursts of flame and the green glow of life. But Crow was patient, as she knew that things were yet to come.
Her wife carried the essences of fire, plant and feast; common essences all purchased with the inheritance of Dove’s entire family back in the day. An inheritance gained after they had all passed away in one of the more potent sicknesses which mostly afflicted the normal-ranked people of the world. Selling all that could be sold had given her just enough, having Dove entering the ranks of the adventurers to further finance her dreams of venturing into the world of alchemy.
And while the heavens had in may ways smiled upon Dove; her finding herself living the very life she had hoped for, there had still been one thing which had always bothered the woman Crow would come to call wife; her confluence. Because the combination chosen out of necessity and availability had resulted in the desolate confluence.
From her magical studies, Crow knew much about it; a rather variable confluence shaped much by the essences making it up. But as the name implied, it was also one of destruction. And while Dove had used it and used it well during her time as an adventurer, it had been the one least used in her life once they settled down; Dove happily laid it to rest as she focused on the life-affirming warmth and growth of the others.
But now Crow’s wife had picked up the adventurer’s mantle once more. And with it came accepting parts of herself that she did not always like.
“It should be just about time,” Crow thought to herself, feeling Dove’s aura surge. Then, just a few minutes after the fight began, it happened. A pulse emanated throughout the forest, but more an inhalation rather than an outwards burst. In mere seconds, life and warmth in a large radius from Dove’s current position was drawn inwards. Trees started to rapidly wither and fall to pieces, leaves of ferns and the green of moss equally savaged. The fires which had gradually spread suffered the same fate, their very heat joining the floating streams of all that had previously burgeoned and blossomed.
It was all drawn towards Dove, the heat and moisture from the monster’s bodies being no exception although their bronze rank gave them a lot more vitality than the surrounding forest. Crow could feel her heart beat faster when gazing upon her wife, transformed by the magic of her confluence.
Dove had now grown into a four meter tall effigy of ashen wood smoldering from within. It very much looked like an unclothed but anatomically featureless version of her, but also more, as the lines of charred wood gave her face, wooden mask locked in a somber expression, an ominous feel. The streams of matter and energy were all converging towards her stomach, or at least where her stomach should have been. In its place was a jagged maw, like a natural gap where some of the wooden effigy had withered away only to leave a glowing void which hungrily devoured life and warmth from all around.
In this form, Dove was unable to move, but she did not need to. More entangling roots sprang out of the ground and embers flared among the monsters, restraining or damaging them for a moment before those energies too were devoured by the effigy that was Crow’s wife. Some monsters tried attacking her, rending the seemingly brittle wood with their claws only to find it quite resilient.
The last monsters stopped moving around a minute later, leaving the now monolithic Dove standing alone in a circle of desolation where only ashes and husks remained.
Feeling her heart flutter, Crow couldn’t help herself as she murmured: “As the young ones apparently say these days; that… that was hot.”
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Dragonfly felt the rush of power as the heat inside her pulsed, like a second heartbeat of magical might which increased in intensity for each nick from a claw or bruise from impact. Although the full-on tackle from the bronze-ranked ogre chieftain who barreled into her at just that moment should leave more than a little bruising as it drove her to the ground, Dragonfly’s back tearing a furrow through the mossy forest floor.
Even so, she did not panic. In fact, her smile came to grow just a tad bit wider as flames washed over the grappling monster. While not the most damage-intensive, it kept adding to the magical flames which were already smoldering all across the chieftain, further increasing the damage dealt by her conjured axe for each instance of the burning affliction.
The burst of flame also caused the ogre to flinch slightly, enough for Dragonfly to bend her knees and plant her feet against the ogre’s chest. While her frame was small, Dragonfly’s strength was most definitely not. Even as she kept a firm grip on both of its arms, the rest of the monster was lifted from the ground. It struggled against her, keeping hold of her shoulders with clawed hands and trying to regain control of the clinch and bite down on Dragonfly.
There was a brief second of tension as both combatants were strained to their limits, before a burning greataxe suddenly came flying in for a horizontal slash, channeling a special attack for additional resonating force damage. One of the ogre’s arms was severed and the other partially so, but it was enough. Like a tense spring coiled and ready to burst, Dragonfly roared as she pushed with her legs to send the ogre flying upwards and away.
And even before it collided with the ground, the smoldering bronze-ranker had already sprung to her feet and leapt in pursuit. Her own axe lay a few meters away where she had dropped it just as the ogre tackled her to avoid it being in the way during the ensuing grapple. But her conjured, and still animated, axe flew to her hands; smoothly catching up to her mid-air as Dragonfly began her Descending Sunwheel.
Spinning at a vertical axis, Dragonfly hit the sprawled beast like a descending disc of fiery destruction, all but bisecting the bronze-ranked monster with her execute effect. The death of the monster was followed by the flames covering it rising from the smoldering form and being absorbed into Dragonfly, restoring her stamina even as she was already moving off to her next targets, with Kite and Will similarly engaged close by.
In the distance, a forested slope had been transformed into a frozen, destroyed waste as mistress Dew was still battling the trio of silver-ranked ogre warlords which had manifested, with Kite, Will and Dragonfly brought in as one of three teams meant to handle the frankly ridiculous number of lesser ogres manifesting along the trio of leaders. Surrounded on all sides by the minions of the silver-rankers, this was definitely the largest manifestation Dragonfly had seen so far. And she loved every moment of it.
Seeing another group of iron-ranked ogres come charging in the wake of the now dead chieftain, Dragonfly used her power from the awakening stone of animation to have her discarded axe come flying into her hands, both axes spinning in tandem as she unleashed yet another special attack.
“With the sunwheel used, it is time to change things up,” she thought, as Butcher’s Pinwheel carried her violently spinning form through the group, carving through the iron-ranked ogres with ease. As she changed up the special attacks, she felt their power and cost increasing further, causing her to grin even more.
“I think I might be getting the hang of this!” Dragonfly shouted, using another special attack through her animated axe to further increase the effect. Ever since the racial gift evolution responsible for this power, Dragonfly had to further adapt her fighting style. Being a human, Dragonfly had a lot of special attacks in her set of essence powers, probably more than a good amount of them too. The gift evolution meant that each time Dragonfly cycled through her different special attacks, their power and cost kept increasing. And with Dragonfly’s power set providing a lot of recovery and ramping capabilities, this had really been an evolution to allow her to take it one step further.
“Coming through!” she shouted as she drew closer to where Kite was engaging a trio of ogre chieftains while more irons were inbound. Having already noticed her, Kite cast a spell to further assist her inbound storm of fiery violence.
“Wall!”
A pair of force walls appeared, creating a corridor with the trio of chieftains and half a dozen iron ranked ones caught inside. A corridor which was just wide enough for Dragonfly to comfortably pass through and swing her axe. Once more starting her spinning attack, Dragonfly also activated another to supplement it. The head of her weapon was wreathed in a jet of flame, giving it further momentum and being ready to discharge upon impact. And as it was combinable by nature, it would affect all of her five spins.
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The inside of the corridor was filled with fiery explosions, turning it into a stark line of light in the battle-laden landscape. Out the other side, Dragonfly all but flew as she left sundered corpses and heavily injured, burning ogres in her wake.
“You really know what a girl wants, Kite!” Dragonfly shouted in appreciation, before continuing onwards. Ablaze like an ascending star, rife with momentum.
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Welcome Plum Blossom hurried throughout the throngs of the smaller holdfast, his big wood backpack looking as if it would threaten to topple the lanky youngster any moment. He still managed to weave through the crowd with surprising speed, even leaping over a pair of squabbling children.
“Plum, over here!”
“On my way, uncle!”
Crossing the final stretch, Plum stopped next to the crouching man and his sitting companion, the older man sitting leaned against the wall with a forlorn look in his eyes, seemingly unaware of him bleeding from several scrapes and cuts along his bare shins. .
“Found him walking the walls again?” Plum asked the middle-aged farmer crouching next to the seated elder, at which the man only sighed.
“Aiyah, the old one is in a world of his own these days. Didn’t think he was going to live until this surge, given how he’s prone to wandering. Can ya help him?”
“Sure thing, uncle. Some bandages, almost still steaming from the boiling pots. A nice auntie even gave me some herbs to calm people down, so maybe a dash of that as well?” As he spoke, Plum had put his backpack on the ground beside them, revealing the front with a plethora of small drawers. Untying the string keeping them closed, Plum opened a pair and gave the man a few leaves to have the older man chew on while Plum got to work.
While there was some struggling and confused rambling, the herbs did their work as advertised, and soon enough the older man’s wounds had been properly cleaned.
“There. Should be good to go now,” Plum said, donning his backpack again.
“Thanks lad. Yer folks woulda’ been proud,” the farmer said, nodding gratefully as he helped the old, confused man to his feet. “Come on, old-timer. Time to get you inside.”
Plum smiled as he waved them off, his expression only falling once they were well and truly out of sight, old aches of the heart resurfacing. Still, there was plenty that had to be done, and with the close confines of the holdfast and lack of any magical healers in the garrison, even a scraped knee needed to be tended to properly to avoid further trouble.
“A scrape cleaned now is an infection avoided tomorrow,” Plum said under his breath, his father’s old proverb coming unbidden to his mind. Shaking his head to dispel the fog of memory, Plum once more set off across the courtyard, picking up speed. Things went well as usual, but a third kid having joined in the brawl from before caused one of them to be thrown out of the wrestling match to land right in front of the running teenager. Plum leapt to avoid stepping on the young girl, but doing so also lost his footing and fell crashing forward.
But just as he was about to impact the ground of the courtyard, Plum felt a hard yank at his backpack which stopped him just a few centimeters before having scrapes of his own to take care of.
“Ho there, young runner,” an unknown male voice said as Plum was hoisted back to his feet. “While your speed is admirable, the paths of these lands are ever treacherous.”
Plum looked up to see a very handsome if slightly rough-looking man in his early thirties smiling at him. The man was apparently quite strong as well, easily putting Plum back on his feet.
“That backpack,” the man began, idly chewing on a long stalk of grass as he looked over the worn wood of the heirloom. “You’re a healer?”
“I…” Plum began, but faltered slightly. There was an intensity to the man even though he looked decidedly normal in most other regards. Even so, he had a certain kind of presence. “It was my father’s. I’m no healer, but I’m all a lot of these people have.” Seeing as the man looked both kind and interested, Plum couldn’t help to allow himself a bit of pride as he puffed up his scrawny chest. “But I’ve just turned seventeen, and after the surge is done I will try and make my way to Gilded and pray to Healer for instruction and guidance. Then I can really start helping people.”
“Oh? That is quite the ambition,” the older man noted, seeming impressed with Plum’s declaration. “I must admit that I thought most youngsters of your age would dream of becoming adventurers instead. Leaving this backwater for greener pastures.”
“And who would then care for the people here?” Plum retorted, secretly repeating arguments that he had heard his father make many times. “It is not like the local church of the Healer sends people to the furthest villages often, if ever. Someone needs to help them too. I- My father said that. And I promised him to do the same, the last time I saw him.” Plum hadn’t thought of actually uttering the last words, blushing slightly.
“I see. And when did you last see your father, young man?”
“I…” Plum began, then trailed off as he sighed. “I went to his grave just before we left for the holdfast. I- it might be stupid, but I always promise him the same thing when I see him.” The youngster felt his ears reddening slightly as his attempt at coming off as mature went well into the realm of the cringeworthy.
But the expected kind but slightly condescending response didn’t come. Instead, the man was just looking at Plum, while nodding to himself.
“Well, young man, seeing as it is rare to meet someone of your dedication, I would be a fool not to take notice.” He bowed to Plum, hands cupped in the formal way of greetings, before he looked up with a bit of a twinkle in his eyes. “My name is Brave Walker of Paths. And while it might not be exactly what future you have foreseen for yourself, I would like to give you an offer.”
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“It is an interesting evolution, student. Have you reflected upon its meaning for you and your path?”
Mistress Dew spoke with the usual calm even amidst her sparring session with Kite. Since his ascension to bronze-rank, she had become more and more active in their sessions as she deemed both his skills and body to be able to endure quite a bit more without risks of any severe accidents. As such, she came at him with a lot more force and vigor.
The more foolish part of Kite’s mind had thought that his forced duel with the mistress of the Wither family would have made him able to better stand up to his mentor’s assault, but his current frantic work to avoid being nicked by the sharp ice of her weapons only strove to further hammer down the difference between a rather laxly trained core-user and someone who had forged their path through conflict and intense practice. With Kite feeling like the proverbial nail to make said point stick.
“I-” Kite began, but was forced to swallow his words as a flurry of strikes forced him to narrowly block two, accept one on his pauldron and take another step back from the fourth. Trying anew, he projected a swing of his sword to create some distance, mistress Dew easily blocking it but humoring him enough to not further press her undeniable advantage.
“From my training and discussions with Phiona - the Geller I told you about - I believe that the ability to target a foe’s mana with more of my attacks might become one of my most important tools, along with my projected strikes, when fighting other essence users. Most of them use mana to some extent, and if I exclusively target that reserve I will also curtail their offensive a bit as they might become more reticent to use their powers. Also, it severely weakens all kinds of healing and regeneration as I will target their other reserves as well. And in most cases, falling unconscious and dying are one and the same.”
Kite had discussed this a lot with both Phiona, Vista and even with his surprise temporary mentor in sect leader Dusk, and also witnessed it at work several times during his clashes with the students of the Descending Star sect. The runic mage which had been one of the final four was a good example, as her light and pure essences had given her a handful of healing power which had been of no use against Kite’s choice of method. But something else had, which became a pertinent fact when considering the answer to Dew’s next question.
“And when will it be less effective?” mistress Dew asked while occasionally throwing daggers of ice Kite’s way, forcing him to block or dodge.
“While it flips the table on some foes, others such as elves with naturally higher mana pools will have an advantage. Or those with their own potent means of recovering mana. While I can shut down some of them, there are always exceptions- Ward!”
Kite’s barrier appeared just in time to deflect a bigger lance of ice too thick and fast to simply deflect with his current strength and speed. Even at its smallest and most durable, Heaven-and-Void Warding still broke completely upon impact, but at least managed to break enough of the projectile for Kite’s armor to absorb the rest.
As Dew gestured for him to continue while assuming a more defensive stance, Kite did his best to switch and attack her while continuing his reasoning. “That is why I will have to learn when to choose that path and stick to it and when to fight more conventionally with the mana-drain being more of a supplementary option. And against most monsters it will be less than ideal, especially in a group setting. If I am the only one striking out against its mana while the rest damage its body, it will only make the battle longer. And monsters don’t fall unconscious either.”
Mistress Dew let Kite keep up his attack for a while, before finally disengaging and lowering her guard. “It seems like you have a habit of picking up good mentors, student,” she said unabashedly, blue lips curled in a slight smile. “And I must say that your path becomes even more deceptive in its own way as time passes.
From what you told me earlier, you have accepted that your rather limited amount of special attacks would force you away from being the most damage-oriented part of a group. While we don’t speak of such things too often here, and especially not in lower ranks, I would still call you more of a defender if we are to use more widely-used terms. An odd kind of defender, but definitely one; using your barriers and magic-shattering effects to protect yourself and your allies while whittling down the defenses and recovery of your foes.
But unlike most defenders, you should be able to become a most excellent duelist, if unconventional in that regard as well. And in your case, unconventional is good as you can subvert both the expectations, rhythm and resources of your opponent. The battle of the mind is even more important against essence-users than it is fighting most monsters.”
As their sparring came to a close, Kite bowed to his teacher in both respect and gratitude. “Thank you teacher. It is a relief to hear that my reflections are not simply dismissed out of hand.”
At this, mistress Dew even chuckled a bit. “Student, no one who has met you for any extended time would dare question that you are an introspective one. If anything, practicing on taking action and finding a balance is probably more important for you in the long run. Because an adventurer will rarely find too much time for reflection in the heat of the moment.”
“I will ever strive to take teacher’s words to heart,” Kite said, bowing again.
“And that is why I still keep you around, student. I would not suffer through anything else,” Dew said approvingly, then looked up at the sun shining down from beneath the foliage of the forests just outside one of the fortresses. “But I believe that it is time to move on again. Us silver-rankers get quite little time for relaxation during a surge, and there are surely more targets for your little team as well. While the path towards the heavens is eternal, you still have to spend the time that is your life to climb it.”
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River danced and her chains unwound from her like a spiraling thresher of graceful destruction, monsters and plant life alike shredded around her. Only the older and thicker trees could withstand the carnage, but their bark was still left scoured and sap slowly dripping down their trunks.
River’s first monster surge had not been what she had hoped. Instead of reveling in the violence and spreading the gift of lord Pain to even these transient beings of magic, the swarms of monsters she had to fight through when crossing through the wilderness felt entirely inconsequential; a mere roadblock and hindrance on the path of her true goal.
“Trash-beings like this are nothing. Not when the truth beckons,” she thought, her aura slightly cracked with frustration.
“Need and impatience are such wonderful concepts, child. Do take your time to properly reflect on them; they serve an important purpose as well to show you what is of true importance. And to show that sometimes the pain of the mind is the most potent one of all.”
River’s mind crackled and tingled under the attention of her god, but with his presence came clarity. Her aura steadied, the pain becoming a mere strain which would temper it further rather than cause it to crack and shatter.
“Thank you for your guidance, lord. This young one is not worthy. My weakness shows.”
“Ah, but do not sell yourself short, child. I so love watching you young ones grow. There is still so much for you to experience; so many new impressions to embrace. The pain of growing might be one of my absolute favorites. Everyone feels it and is tempered by it, some even develop because of it and yet they shun me just because the experience is unpleasant.” The god’s word did not sound angry, more patient and a bit patronizing as if talking to young children yet to see the truth of life. “So do not worry, Dancer on the Broken River. You are already serving me quite well just as you are.”
“You- I will not let you down, Lord.” River thought. “And I will bring your most intense gifts unto the person which not one but three sources have indicated being some kind of contact for them. Someone hiding within the Descending Star sect. And when I find them, I will make you proud yet again. Because my father taught me well.”
With those thoughts strengthening her resolve, Dancer on the Broken River, disciple of Pain and daughter of the late grand elder Unmaker of the White Seal, continued her path of violence through the forests of the Autumn lands. Her destination was the compound of the Descending Star sect, in which she hoped to finally find her quarry. And answers.