Ascendants, despite the propaganda of the church, aren’t gods, and neither are Calamities nor Mythics. They are humans, and just like us, they are flawed. They make mistakes, and despite their outward appearance of control and power, they are just as imperfect as the rest of us sleepers.
Ajin Bellion-Arrigham
Bishop of the collective.
The central kingdom. (Lutia)
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Zatya Malakov prided herself on being intelligent, powerful, and impossible to manipulate. This was why she was so confused and surprised when Xena announced that she had made such a grave mistake, and in front of Faelar Dubois no less. Without a doubt, the lunar witch would find a way to use this against her, but Zatya couldn’t worry about that now; she had a student to save.
Tearing open a portal, Zatya practically ran into the seclusion chamber and immediately halted time. She was just in time too. Had she arrived even a second later, Aodhán would have sliced Yurin’s head to pieces with his claws.
She swallowed nervously when she saw the physical state of both students, but whereas Aodhán was only covered in dozens of burns and bleeding cuts, Yurin was completely mangled, barely recognizable from all the injuries he’d sustained. His body was completely ridden with holes, most likely caused by lightning beams, and the left part of his body was almost completely decayed. His skin hung off his bones like wet paper, and he was covered in blood from head to toe.
Yet, Yurin’s grip on his weapon was firm and unyielding. The skin around his fingers was almost completely gone, but that didn’t stop him from gripping the sword construct as if his life depended on it. In this case maybe it did.
To be honest, Zatya had completely forgotten about the light awakened she had placed within the seclusion chamber three days ago. His twisted effect had been unusually strong, and although it would have been better to place him within a time chamber, time essence was a precious resource, and she hadn’t been willing to spend it on a mere elite. Even if he was a pinnacle elite who might soon break past that with his new achievement. Besides, a time chamber was a terrible option when it came to weathering the twisted effect for obvious reasons.
“A nascent icon.” Faelar whispered in surprise, giving voice to Zatya’s thought, and Zatya sighed. In her haste to deal with Faelar, she had placed Aodhán within the same chamber as Yurin. Two evolved awakeneds undergoing the twisted effect, one who had already developed the phrase of his Icon to never give up, and the other with enough power to crush the will of the other to pieces, both in one chamber.
It wasn’t just a recipe for disaster; it was a masterpiece of ruin and catastrophe, crafted by misfortune itself. One that would have unleashed chaos in the kingdom had she not arrived in the nick of time. Releasing the spatial lock on the seclusion area, she gestured for the healer who had been standing outside the room to come in.
Leia hustled in, her plump stature not seeming to give her any problems as she rushed into the chamber and hastily placed a hand on Yurin’s head. Zatya manipulated the flow of time to allow Leia to work before turning to glare at Xena. “Not a word of this to anyone, Xena. We cannot afford to let this get out. The kingdom has enough issues already.”
Xena bobbed her head eagerly, seemingly glad to be in on a secret, but Zatya knew the talkative girl couldn’t keep a secret even if her life depended on it. The first thought that crossed her mind was to simply take the girl's life this moment, but then she glanced at Faelar and sighed, choosing to take a less bloody approach. “Wipe her memory.”
Surprisingly, Faelar didn’t argue or ask her for anything in return. She simply smiled at Xena and snapped a finger, silver light wafting from her fingers like smoke. That was all; there was no exaggerated light show or motions, and with that simple action, Faelar stole the memory of the past hour from Xena, a mid-advanced class awakened.
While Xena dealt with the confusion of sudden memory loss, Zatya teleported her out of the chamber and turned her gaze to Leia. “How’s he faring?”
“Badly.” Leia replied as she activated another skill that engulfed Yurin in golden light. “He was at death’s door when I came in, and only his phrase to never give up is what kept him alive. If you had been any slower, he’d be dead, and you would have a whole other problem on your hands.”
Zatya nodded in agreement. For awakened ones, death like this wasn’t always the end. A death cultivator could still revive the dead as an unliving, which was a less-than-favorable option. A spirit awakened was more acceptable as they could, in theory, force the spirit of the recently deceased back into the body. Unfortunately, the only spirit awakened she knew who was strong enough to carry out such a feat was far away in Unoros, which meant she might have had to settle for the first option, but the reputation hit and waves of disgust such news would cause in the sector would be unimaginable.
“Do you think he knows?” Faelar asked, dragging Zatya’s mind away from her thoughts. “The Icon phrase, I mean.”
“I doubt it.” Leia shook her head. “It’s very recent, and I imagine his battle with Aodhán might have been the catalyst.”
Zatya turned her attention back to the boy and frowned. It seemed she had underestimated him. Getting an icon's phrase before the advanced class wasn’t a groundbreaking achievement, but it was rare, as only a few people understood themselves enough to achieve such a feat at the evolved class. The fact that Yurin had done it spoke of a deep understanding of himself and also gave Zatya clues as to his character and motives.
The shutter of a camera reminded her that she was still surrounded by enemies who wanted to see her fall. If Zatya was a petty woman, she would have jammed a fist into Faelar’s guts and crushed the fucking camera to dust before she could react. Instead, she composed herself and turned to look at Faelar. “What do you want?”
Faelar smiled. “Before I begin listing out the things that I want, let me first of all discuss the repercussions of giving this picture to the press—
“Aodhán wasn’t in control of his actions.” Zatya cut her off, dismissing what seemed to be Faelar’s major point. “He can’t be held accountable for it even if Yurin had died.”
“Of course.” Faelar’s smile stretched into a grin. “He didn’t place himself in the chamber. You, however,” she tsked. “You put the lives of two students in danger. Surely, you know the repercussions of that, and let’s not forget your other sins. You’re proud, rude, and dismissive of the Awakened Council. You rebuke our requests without a second thought, and when we lay down laws, you find ways to circumvent them. Just so you know, your friends in the council are barely a handful, and I assure you that there are more than enough council members who are willing to have your status as an academy principal revoked. This will be a perfect excuse.”
Zatya gritted her teeth in annoyance because Faelar was right. She had pissed off too many members of the Awakened council to count on any of them for support. Ever since she refused to hand Aodhán over to them to do as they pleased, those surly bastards had been searching for ways to evict her from the position of principal.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Zatya didn’t really care about the position, yet in her own twisted way she cared about the students. She cared about her pet and ex-pets. If she resigned now, many of them would be in danger, and their secrets would be exposed to the world. She couldn’t allow herself to be evicted, not when Aodhán was doing so well.
If she was replaced by someone else, all her hard work would be undone. No, she couldn’t have that, and despite how much she wanted to knock Faelar into the ground, she smiled and said, “I understand you perfectly. What is it you want?”
Faelar sighed blissfully, obviously enjoying the moment. “The duke and the council have a few ‘requests.’.”
Zatya gritted her teeth so hard she nearly crushed them. Of course they had more than one request. Ever since Aodhán had gained his familiar, they had pestered her with requests to the point that ascendant candidate Lightus had eventually been forced to place a protective mark on Aodhán in addition to the one she’d placed there in the beginning as well as reveal himself as Aodhán’s supporter and protector. His actions had cautioned the council, but like vultures, they kept circling, waiting for the moment when their backs were turned to strike.
Now that they finally had blackmail material because of her foolish mistake, Zatya was sure they would try to milk her for it. If that was their plan, though, then they had another thing coming because Zatya could only give so much before lashing out.
Faelar grinned, watching Zatya in amusement as she tried to contain her anger before finally speaking. “The council would like to interview the boy.”
“No!” Zatya instantly shut down the request. She knew what ‘interview’ meant with the council, and she had no intentions of breaking Aodhán to pieces just to pry out his secrets. The boy was already broken, and she didn’t need the council messing up all the work she had done to get Aodhán to this point.
Faelar scowled. “You seem to think you’re the one with power here. Let me assure you that you are not.”
“Aren’t I though?” Zatya let out a Cheshire grin. “Child, if you think I’m never the one holding the strings, then you’re incredibly stupid. I’ve got dirt to spill about you too, dirt that I’m sure the council wouldn’t take kindly to, not to mention a certain duchess who’s particularly famous for the way she tortures her husband’s mistresses.” Zatya faked a sad sigh and shook her head. “Oh, poor duchess. She’ll be absolutely livid.”
Faelar’s grin disappeared, and Zatya chuckled, folding her arms demurely as she created stools for herself and Faelar to sit on. When Faelar reluctantly sat down, Zatya began. “Now let’s negotiate, mythic to mythic. In the spirit of keeping the status quo, I’ll accede to some of your requests, and you’ll keep your knowledge of this occurrence forever out of your lips. I’ll also be taking the camera just in case you get second thoughts.”
Faelar scowled, watching her with utmost contempt before responding. “The artifact the boy used—
“No, next request.”
Faelar’s scowl deepened, and she fumed for a moment before speaking again. “They need him in the war.”
“No, try again.” Zatya shut down the request just as fast as she shut down the first, but Faelar refused.
“There is no next request, Zatya. The changeling situation is getting out of hand, and with all those able to help otherwise preoccupied with several undercover or delicate matters, we have no one else to call. Trust me, the council deliberated this issue for days before coming to an agreement. We need his core sensing ability to find the changeling, and if you have any shred of patriotism left in you after the last war, you’ll grant us this request.” Her tone softened, and she continued. “The military chain of command in Conquestia is slowly crumbling, and if we don’t act now, we’ll lose this war faster than we lost the Attilan war. We cannot let that happen. The other kingdoms are watching. Our enemies are watching.”
Zatya hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Surely, there must be others who can help.”
“If there was, I wouldn’t be here negotiating for the help of a child. Cosmind is undercover, and Ramiel, the only other known person with core sense, is too advanced to participate in the war. The telepaths of Calodan have refused to help. There are no others who can help.”
Zatya shuffled awkwardly, still hesitating. She could hear the truth in Faelar’s words, but she just wasn’t ready to release Aodhán to the military yet, even though it was to help the kingdom. The actions of the awakened council were never innocent; she knew that firsthand. There was an ulterior motive hidden somewhere, and releasing Aodhán to the military was like releasing him to the wolves.
The fact that he would be working under General Lucas Deaton’s jurisdiction calmed her somewhat, but she still took a few seconds to think. The mission was too dangerous; it was the main reason she had decided to ban war information within the academy, and now the council wanted her to send a mere student into active military grounds with a champion-ranked changeling on the loose.
Ascendants knew how long this ‘search’ might take, and say Aodhán even found the changeling, what then?
She battled with her thoughts for a few more seconds before asking. “Do you not have any other requests? Something less doltish.”
“There is none.” Faelar sighed. When she noticed that Zatya still wasn’t convinced, she added. “The council isn’t taking this decision alone, nor do we intend to put the boy’s life in danger, but this is the only solution we have at the moment. We’ll even throw in a substantial reward if he succeeds.”
“What sort of reward?” Zatya asked, quirking an eyebrow in curiosity and suspicion, but Faelar’s next words shocked her.
“The Black Forest.”
The black forest was both an artifact and a pocket dimension created by hundreds of calamity class awakeneds a few hundred years ago. In essence, these calamities had channeled their Supremacies over their individual origin planes into the artifact, creating a mini world that contained nearly all affinity or concept one could think of. It was the best place to evolve one’s class, and if Aodhán succeeded, it would be the best place for him to ascend to the advanced class.
The thought of such a reward caused Zatya to falter, and she soon found herself considering the mission in a more favorable light. Would it be so bad? If nothing else, it would be an experience for Aodhán. She didn’t lose sight of the danger that was involved in the mission, though, and after a few more seconds of thought, she nodded. “Alright, but I’ve got a few conditions. I want a written parchment from the council that no harm would happen to my student; whether intentionally or not, there will be no interviews, tests, or side deals done without my consent, and lastly, a budget increase. Many of our staff in the academy will be advancing to the mythic class very soon, and that’s a lot of credits. Credits I’m unwilling to foot myself, especially not on this meager salary.”
Faelar wrote down her requests and asked sarcastically. “Is that all?”
“No. I’ll shift the first-year selection process to the eleventh week to accommodate this mission, but Aodhán can’t afford to miss his tests or the exam. Regardless of the situation of the war, he must be brought back here, else I’ll come and pull him out myself, and trust me when I say the council doesn’t want that.”
Faelar grimaced, and after jotting down Zatya’s words, she muttered. “Do you have any more requests to add? Do we have to take you to the moon too?”
Zatya ignored her and grabbed the camera from her before crushing it to powder. “There, now we have a deal.”
Faelar glanced at the glass chamber and muttered. “I’ll get back to you in three days with the council’s response. I imagine that by then, Aodhán would have returned to his senses.”
Zatya shrugged, and Faelar disappeared, most likely to the council headquarters to give her report, leaving only a slight trail of lunar essence hanging in the air.
Zatya turned back to Leia, who had finished healing Yurin and now held his sleeping form cradled in her hands like a baby. “He’s asleep for now. That fight must have purged the last of the chaos from his mind, so I believe he’ll be in his right senses when next he wakes up.”
Zatya nodded gratefully, and Leia continued. “He should probably see a counselor or therapist—a real one this time—to speak to about this traumatic experience.”
“I’ll get him a real therapist.” Zatya agreed, and with that, Leia took Yurin to another chamber to sleep. Zatya watched them go with a grimace before turning her gaze back to her pet. He was still frozen in time, an unhealthy amount by now, but nowhere near damaging. With a sigh, she resumed the flow of time, and Aodhán smashed into the glass wall, roaring in confusion when his claws cut through empty air rather than flesh.
Zatya expected him to continue his rampage, but she was pleasantly surprised when he paused instead, and turned to stare at her calmly. Rage was still evident in his expression, but it wasn’t the blazing rage she had witnessed the last time; instead, it was cold, almost glacial.
As weird as that was, Zatya noticed something even more bizarre. The thin silver bands around Aodhán’s black irises had widened slightly, and his gaze followed her every movement, missing nothing. Wanting to test out a hunch, she flicked her fingers and grinned when Aodhán’s gaze honed in on the movement like that of an eagle.
Enhanced perception!
Zatya wondered what skill he had gained to grant him such high perception, but mostly she was just excited that very soon, she would have her own Az’marthon. One who was firmly under her control and would kill to do her bidding! Soon, she would have created herself the perfect weapon.