Aodhán stepped out of the Awakened Court with a frown, wondering where the hell he was supposed to find 500 platinum coins from. Doing a quick math, he realized that the amount equaled 5000 gold coins, which was more money than he’d ever seen in his entire life, considering that even back on earth, he’d been an orphan without a single penny to his name.
He moved to one corner of the compound, carefully weaving through the crowd of councilmen and women whose gazes followed him, filled with curiosity and intrigue. When he reached a relatively quiet corner, he raised his chip and sent a message to Daruk, Andrew, and Yurin about the situation of things.
He kept the narration brief, knowing that Kaelith and Rahim would soon start searching for him. Their responses were as expected, and after assuring them that he would provide more details later, Aodhán returned to the front of the court.
While he waited for Kaelith and Rahim to exit the chamber, Aodhán texted Aldric and then Unrid to appraise them of the situation and put their minds at ease.
As Aodhán sent the last text to Unrid, Rahim and Kaelith emerged from the chamber, and when they reached him, Rahim pulled Aodhán into a hug and said, “I knew you’d be okay. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Kaelith was more formal in his greeting and simply patted Aodhán’s shoulders. “Congratulations, kid. I thought you had blown it all to shit when you threatened the council like that.”
“It truly wasn’t a threat.” Aodhán chuckled as he pulled away from Rahim’s embrace. “I just wanted to nudge them into giving me a fair sentence. I’m not sure it worked, though.”
“What do you mean?” Rahim snorted. “A fine is the easiest punishment, and it’s just 500 platinum coins.”
“True.” Kaelith agreed. “I think the fine is even cheap considering the potential ramifications of your actions. The case may have ended here, but that won’t stop people from speaking about it and wondering what effect your rain will carry had it been infused with chaos, willpower, a seal, or all three together. Frankly, I’m curious, and so are the press, so I might have to draft another press statement when I return to the academy.”
Aodhán sighed. All he heard was that he’d simply called more attention to himself. At this point, even he couldn’t help his curiosity on the matter, and if the unempowered infusion of {Eye of the Storm} into {Storm manipulation} was as wonderful as this, then he could already imagine the role he would be playing when he eventually joined the military. Perhaps a targeting skill or technique was in order.
He had always hoped for a support skill, and perhaps he had finally found it. The problem, though, was the increasing attention he was attracting to himself. Even now as he spoke to Rahim and Kaelith, he could practically feel the eyes of hundreds drilling holes into him. Principal Zatya’s and ascendant candidate Lightus’s protection could only go so far, and Aodhán feared he was reaching its limit.
Bringing his mind back to the present, Aodhán replied. “500 platinum coins may be a small amount of money to some, but in case you guys haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly rich.”
“You’re not poor, though.” Kaelith pointed out with a wink. “Isn’t the academy owing you a few platinum coins? We did promise to give them to you after you turned down Ludacris’s offer.”
Aodhán had completely forgotten about that, and his eyes widened. “How much are we talking about here?”
Kaelith exchanged a glance with Rahim, who shrugged and replied. “I’m not sure exactly. Maybe a hundred or two. I’ll have to confirm with the principal.”
Aodhán frowned as his thoughts went into overdrive. Hopefully, he would be able to get two hundred platinum coins from the academy, but to manage his expectations, Aodhán set the bar at a hundred platinum coins. That left 400 platinum coins or 4000 gold coins for him to find. That was still more money than he’d ever seen before.
When he voiced his worry, though, Kaelith shrugged. “You’re headed for a military camp, aren’t you? I bet you could make half that in a month if you join the pit or get lucky with your bets.”
Aodhán didn’t bother asking what the pit was. From Kaelith’s statement, it was pretty obvious, but Aodhán was going to the military camp to hunt a changeling, not fight mob bosses. Also, he certainly hoped this mission lasted less than a month because he didn’t want to miss the tournament or his examination for anything.
They spoke for a few more minutes, after which they led him to another teleportation circle on one of the numerous towers that ringed the Awakened Court. This particular tower was guarded by almost a dozen advanced-class military men, each one alert and ready to fight at the first sign of danger.
Rahim patted him on the shoulder and said, “This is where we part ways. Kaelith and I need to return to the academy.”
“Be careful out there.” Kaelith added with a small smile and wagged a finger at him in caution. “The war camp is not a place to be careless. Also, make sure you do not do anything too crazy. I would like to take a break from writing press statements for a while.”
“I’ll try my best.” Aodhán chuckled, and after saying goodbye to his mentor and Kaelith, he made his way towards the tower entrance.
The soldiers stopped him a few feet away from the entrance and began asking him questions in order to verify his identity. They searched his spatial ring, took several facial and bodily scans, and even went as far as doing a blood verification before finally letting him into the tower. The whole process made Aodhán realize just how seriously the kingdom was taking this changeling threat, but what was really surprising was how someone had managed to slip into the kingdom even with all these procedures in place.
Without wasting time, Aodhán made his way to the top of the tower where the teleportation circle was located, flashing his academy ID card to anyone who questioned his presence within the tower. Still, soldiers watched him tensely, their hands straying to their weapons whenever he passed too close. It felt suffocating, and when he finally reached the top of the tower, Aodhán let out a breath of relief.
It wasn’t over, though, and Aodhán had to repeat the tests again before the soldiers stationed around the teleportation circle finally let him into it. It took only a few seconds to activate the circle, and for the second time that day, Aodhán walked into a swirling portal.
The world blurred, replaced by a vortex of colors that seemed to stretch to infinity. It only lasted a moment, though, and an instant later, Aodhán found himself atop a similar teleportation tower surrounded by more than a dozen advanced-class guards with their weapons drawn.
“Stand down.” One of the soldiers shouted, and the others hesitantly lowered their weapons. They didn’t put the weapons away, though; neither did they soften their stance; instead, they watched him warily, their expressions cautious.
Aodhán couldn’t say he was shocked by the reception, but it was definitely unexpected. Slowly, he raised both hands to the air and said. “My name is Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion. I am an Inheritor and a first-year student at the fifth academy. I was sent here on a mission, and I’m to be led to Fort Dominion to speak to General Deaton.”
The soldiers exchanged wary glances, their fists subtly tightening on their individual weapons, so Aodhán added. “I’ve just been through two sets of intrusive identity verification procedures; I do not mind taking another.”
The soldiers relaxed slightly after that, and one of them, a middle-aged man with deep blue hair and fishlike scales on his jaw, stepped forward, clutching a blue spear in his right hand like his life depended on it. Aodhán let out his core sense to determine the average tier of the soldiers and grimaced when he realized that the weakest soldier present was in the early seventies.
They were all so far above his advancement tier, yet Aodhán could almost taste their caution and fear. It was so potent that wisps of silver fear essence began to form in the air. The excessive identity verification he’d undergone back at the tower had clued him to the fact that the changeling was indeed a concerning situation, but from the reaction of these soldiers, it seemed he had underestimated just how dangerous this mission was.
The blue-haired soldier came to a halt at the edge of the teleportation circle and asked. “Do you have anything to prove your statements?”
“I do.” Aodhán replied, cranking his perception to the maximum, and with a subtle flick of his fingers, he took out a signed copy of the deal principal Zatya had made with professor Dubois and handed it over. The man collected the document and scanned it for a moment before waving to one of the other soldiers to check it out. They pored over the document for nearly a minute, scanning it with so many runic devices to determine its authenticity that Aodhán soon began growing irritated.
He maintained his silence, though, and a few minutes later, the blue-haired man finally requested his ID. Aodhán fixed the man with a dead stare that certainly conveyed his annoyance before handing his academy ID card over.
“How long is this going to take?” Aodhán asked when the man accepted his card, but the soldier just shrugged.
“It’ll take as long as it needs to. The changeling situation is no joke, and we can’t afford to be careless with the people who go in or out of the camp.”
Aodhán sighed and resigned himself to a long afternoon; however, the sound of a scuffle soon drew his attention, and he turned his gaze to the only exit in the tower as a familiar fire core approached. It only took Aodhán a second to recognize the approaching soldier, and he smiled when Tyrus Hadjen burst into the scene.
It had only been a few weeks since Aodhán had seen the nervous lieutenant; however, Tyrus had changed so much that he was nearly unrecognizable. He had let his hair grow into a mane, and from the decorations on his uniform, Aodhán could see that he had been promoted to the rank of captain. More than that, he no longer looked fearful or nervous and had even developed a commanding aura around himself.
As impressive as those changes were, they were incomparable to the changes Aodhán could sense within his spirit. Tyrus was now in the advanced class, and although his core was a little dim, Aodhán estimated he would at least advance into the mythic tier before reaching his limit.
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Tyrus walked forward, and despite only being at the 26th tier, the blue-haired soldier whom Aodhán assumed was the leader of this squad sighed and saluted. “Captain Hadjen. Good to see you here. This young man—
“Is genuine.” Tyrus replied almost wearily as if he’d had to say those words a hundred times already. “The 5th academy principal has sent several memos to inform us of his arrival; besides, I can see his soul fire, and it is nothing like that of a changeling.”
The blue-haired soldier frowned, but before he could say anything else, Tyrus raised a hand to halt him. “Also, before you ask, the secret code is RAGNARFISHAMALGAMATION. Send the new one to me”.
Aodhán wasn’t sure what was going on, but when Tyrus said the ‘secret code,’ almost all the soldiers relaxed, their stance becoming almost casual. The blue-haired man nodded and finally gestured for Aodhán to step out of the teleportation circle. “My sincerest apologies, inheritor. We can never be too thorough with a skilled changeling on the loose.”
“It’s fine.” Aodhán nodded and collected both his ID card and the signed document back before turning his attention to Tyrus. “Captain Hadjen, I thought you’d been transferred from Conquestia. My friend Arnold isn’t one who takes lightly of promises.”
Tyrus gave a small bow and responded. “Lord Frostbourne did fulfill his promise, but after my father died to the changeling, I decided to stay back and try to avenge him.”
Aodhán hadn’t known that, and despite what he had assumed of Tyrus’s father, he raised a hand to his head as was the tradition and whispered. “May his soul rest peacefully in the arms of the ascendants.”
Tyrus echoed his words perfunctorily and began leading him towards the exit. A few of the soldiers followed behind them, but it wasn’t until they began climbing down the stairs that Aodhán spoke again. “Congratulations on your advancement and promotion, captain.”
Tyrus smiled. “It took me a while to decide if I wanted to stay back in Conquestia, but the skill I gained after advancing into the advanced class kind of sealed the deal for me.”
“What skill is it?” Aodhán asked, and he could practically feel Tyrus’s excitement leaking through as he responded.
“It’s called {Soul Flame}.” He replied and created a small wisp of blue flames in his right hand. The flame looked like any other flame except rather than flickering, it warped and moved as if phasing in and out of reality.
“Asides conjuring my soul flames like this to burn the souls of others, I can also sense people's soul flames.” He shrugged and continued. “I’m not exactly sure how it works, but everyone’s soul fire is different, some even distinct. Long story short, I now work for General Deaton as an assistant of his assistant, but my major role around here is to verify the soul fire of anyone coming in or going out of the camp in order to find the changeling.”
“Have you had any luck?”
Tyrus shook his head. “Unfortunately. As great as my skill is, I can only sense the flames of one person at a time.”
“It lacks reach.” Aodhán reasoned, and Tyrus nodded. ‘That’s why we need you. Your core sense ability should be able to sweep through a larger number of people than mine can. Add that to all the other sensing and seeking abilities we currently have within the camp, and we should be able to flush this changeling out in no time.”
Aodhán hoped Tyrus was right. The faster they could smoke out the changeling, the faster he could return to the academy and study his runes. He was tired of getting in trouble all the time and simply wanted to advance in peace.
When they reached the base of the tower, which was another identity checkpoint, Aodhán scowled, not in any mood to go through another round of intrusive tests. Flexing his fingers, he activated {Merge}, but restricted the transformation only to wings and claws alone.
It was a terrible idea.
The moment black wings erupted from his back, hundreds of weapons and skills turned towards him, ready to blast him to oblivion. His plan had been to prove his identity by showing his familiar, but he realized once again that he was severely underestimating how on edge the soldiers were. Had Tyrus not hurriedly shouted for everyone to stop, Aodhán was certain he would have been burnt to a crisp by now.
Quickly, he summoned Varéc out of his spirit and shouted. “I have a familiar at the evolved tier. Doesn’t this prove my fucking identity?”
Apparently, it did, although he got a lot of annoyed glances for his trouble. Soldiers returned to their duties, and Aodhán shuddered, the calming effect of {Eye of The Storm} having been completely destroyed at the point of possible annihilation. Aodhán was realizing more and more that he really hated the military.
“I’d suggest you put your familiar away, Lord Brystion.” Tyrus muttered after a short moment of silence, and Aodhán quickly complied, urging Varéc back into his spirit before someone mistook him for the changeling and shot him dead with an advanced class ability.
After that close brush with death, Aodhán and Tyrus quickly made their way to Fort Dominion, but on their way there, they came across another group of advanced class soldiers who introduced themselves as Aodhán’s escort. The leader of the group, a shady-looking shadow awakened, introduced himself as Captain Sarkodie Yeager, and he gave a small nod of acknowledgment when Tyrus declared them as trustworthy before speaking. “We have been briefed as to the sensitivity of your mission here and have been tasked with leading you safely to Fort Dominion. Everyone here has been vetted, so you have nothing to fear. We are here to protect you.”
While Tyrus scanned the soul flame of each soldier, Aodhán scanned their cores instead, memorizing their energy signatures and patterns far more easily than he should have been able to. It was most likely as a result of the combined effect of {Eye of the Storm} and his core sense ability, and Aodhán was grateful that it had made his job easy.
After verifying each soldier, Captain Sarkodie created a platform of shadow, and at a speed Aodhán could only dream of, the construct zipped forward. The world blurred, and Aodhán had to crank his perception to the highest before he could even take in his surroundings.
At first, there was nothing special to see, just rows and rows of orderly gray tents and military weapons mounted nearly on every wall, but as they flew deeper into the sector, more lavish and elaborate structures began making their appearance. The square buildings slowly disappeared, replaced by towering structures of reinforced stone and architectural wonders that shone like beacons even in the daylight.
It was beautiful, but compared to the technological advancement of sector 8, the magical beauty of sector 5, or the hustle and bustle of sector 3, sector 7 was found lacking. As they neared Fort Dominion, though, three black claw-like buildings revealed themselves. They were so tall that they seemed to touch the clouds, and the number of shimmering runic inscriptions on each claw was staggering.
“That’s the hub.” Tyrus pointed at the building, just like he had done at several other landmarks on their way here. “It’s located exactly at the center of the sector, and they say the amount of Ragnar steel used in the construction of just one claw is enough to bankrupt a high noble and reduce him to penury.”
“That’s a lot of money.” Aodhán muttered, remembering his recently accrued debt of 400 platinum coins. Where the hell did the council expect him to get such money?
“The hub isn’t just a decorative building.” Tyrus replied with a small shrug. “It is a monument dedicated to Ascendant candidate Syrnathis Valeborn, who gave his life to turn away the Children of the Watch when they stormed the sector nearly a millennia ago.”
It took a moment for Aodhán to place the name, but that was because, unlike ascendants, who were few in number, ascendant candidates numbered in the thousands. Aodhán only remembered Syrnathis because he’d read about the man when he’d been doing research on rare and gross affinities, like the flesh affinity of patchwork, the Sunstonian champion.
Syrnathis was a bone awakened who had been particularly adept at the manipulation of bone to create and animate large skeletal creatures to fight for him. Aodhán hadn’t read anything about how he had died, though hearing that he’d been killed by members of the Children of the Watch was severely concerning.
Aodhán observed the structure for a moment before asking. “These children of the watch? What’s their deal really?”
Snorts of annoyance echoed from the other soldiers, and this time, it was Captain Sarkodie who responded. “Lowlifes and rejects, the lot of them. They are insane lunatics is what they are.”
Aodhán frowned, not sure why Captain Sarkodie had used both insane and lunatics together, but perhaps it was to emphasize the extent of insanity the children of the watch possessed?
Tyrus, fortunately, gave a much better response. “The children of the watch are an insane religious body who worship Sárán Beithir, an Ascendant from the central kingdom who was infamous for his ability to steal the innate skills and seals of other Awakened by pushing them to the brink of death. Before his ascendance, he prophesied that his inheritor would lead the children into an era of domination, fear, and despair that was worse than the one he caused. A thousand years have passed since then, and although one would think they would have died out by now, they are like cockroaches. They refuse to be wiped out.”
Captain Sarkodie snorted again. “Once this war with Sunstone ends, I don’t mind fighting the children next. Pests, the lot of them.”
One of the soldiers, a woman with sand affinity, nodded. “They are a menace to society and the continent at large, but with the war taking so much of our resources, it’s up to the central kingdom, Calodan, and Unoros to deal with them.”
Tyrus scoffed. “The central kingdom is pacifist, and Unoros would rather watch the world freeze to death than lend a helping hand. Those coldhearted bastards.”
“Aye,” the woman agreed. “Calodan certainly cannot fight that fight alone.”
“They wouldn’t have to fight alone if Sunstone had just admitted defeat after the whole plague wraith business.” Captain Sarkodie replied, and just like that, a political discussion ensued.
Aodhán stayed quiet, choosing to listen rather than contribute as the soldiers discussed and lamented the state of the war as well as the other kingdoms. Aodhán filed away every tidbit of information in his mind, adding it to the labyrinth of secrets and half-truths that was the Attilan continent.
The discussion lasted for nearly ten minutes until Tyrus finally changed the topic, much to Aodhán’s disappointment, and began discussing more mundane matters. While this went on, Aodhán’s mind drifted. He had known the children of the watch were a cult, but he hadn’t known much about their backstory. What he knew, though, was that they went around kidnapping and trying to recruit promising Awakened into their ranks.
Aodhán didn’t believe much in prophecies, but the words of an ascendant, whether good or evil, were never ones to be taken lightly. However, the fact that the children had persisted for centuries was deeply concerning. What could possibly be keeping them together?
He mulled over the matter for the rest of their journey, and it wasn’t until Captain Sarkodie announced their arrival at the fort that Aodhán snapped back to reality. He glanced down at the massive fort, and his eyes widened when his brain finally picked up on the intense amount of runic energies blazing out of the fort.
Fort Dominion shone with so much protection and defense runes that Aodhán doubted even a Mythic could destroy the building without using all of their power and energy. Aodhán didn’t even bother trying to analyze the runes, as they were so complex and intricate that trying to do so would certainly be injurious to him.
Despite how militaristic and rugged the fort was, Aodhán had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful. Someone with a good eye for design and decoration had definitely planned the place out, adding a lot of greenery to make up for the rugged and simplistic nature of the fort. Manicured gardens filled every inch of bare space, adding so much color to the drab building that it seemed almost out of a fairytale.
Before Aodhán could take in any more of the Fort, though, a man with bright pink hair suddenly appeared before them in a burst of purple spatial essence. The man’s hair floated behind him as if underwater, and although he wore a kind smile, Aodhán knew better than to believe any child of Solaris Valerion was sane.
Artemis Valerion was an impressive-looking man with beautiful features and a charming persona, but underneath his gaudy, overly embellished robe was a body so hard, it would probably put rocks to shame. Beneath the body of a Greek god, though, blazed a spatial core of such intensity that Aodhán would have believed it was a mythic core if not for the fact that he couldn’t sense those yet.
Aside from Artemis’s spatial affinity, Aodhán noticed nothing else, but it was obvious Artemis wasn’t the changeling anyway. No matter what the changeling looked like or whatever affinity they were pretending to have, their core would definitely be blazing with change essence.
Artemis must have noticed his spiritual probe, but if he took any offense, he made no show of it. Aodhán, however, wasn’t willing to test the limits of another Valerion son.
Bracing himself for whatever insanity was about to reveal itself, Aodhán stepped forward and bowed his head in greeting. “Renowned Champion, Artemis Valerion, I am Aodhán Brystion, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”