After years of asking her for formalized military training to no avail, Ember is finally leading my small group of friends through our first real combat exercise. She helped me with fundamentals in the past, particularly after the Shadow Jaguars attacks, but my friends are fairly new to real fighting. I consider their relatively few brushes with near death a good thing.
For today’s training, I’m using a sturdy, chest-high ashwood cane instead of the glittering glass masterwork swords that belonged to my father, but that’s because Ember is sentimental about them. I‘d prefer more reach, but it’s difficult to swing around a full-length staff with only one hand. Still, keeping the enemy at a distance would be nice. I’m not keen on getting bitten, clawed, snapped, shredded, trampled, melted—I sigh in exasperation as I recall all the abuse my body’s been through over the last few years.
Well, that, and the glass swords aren’t suitable for sparring, on account of slicing through armor as easily as paper unless they’re sheathed. I like my friends alive, thank you very much. It’s the same reason why I haven’t tried to push the issue of the fine spear I found in the Labyrinth. It’s in the hands of the Royal army now, and there’s no way I’m confronting [General] Tychicus about taking it back.
Ember stalks back and forth in front of us, at the edge of the forest near the glassworks, her hands clasped behind her back. “When we’re on the hunt, my word is law. Understood?”
“Understood!”
We chorus as one, which I suspect is likely the best teamwork we’ll demonstrate for the day. I even throw a mock salute, which makes Lio snicker, but earns me an eye roll from Ember.
“Nuri, watch the joking,” Ember chides me. “I know you’ve been through an abyssal year, and this probably seems like child’s play to you, but this is exactly why I’ve always been reluctant to teach you all in such piecemeal fashion. You don’t seem to take to heart how important these lessons are. When we're on the hunt, your lives are in each other's hands. A lack of vigilance could be the difference between survival, and ending up maimed—or even dead.”
We sober up after her announcement, glancing at each other with unease. The ferocity of the Shadow Jaguars had certainly been a wake-up call for me, and since then I’ve dealt with two Rifts and a deranged fleshwarper, but my friends have emerged unscathed. They knew nothing about the jaguars until we returned to report the attack. Other than the scare with the [Inquisitors] arresting us during our escape attempt, they’ve been sheltered. I’m grateful for it, but it’s time for them to step up.
Ember’s dire words seem to hit home. They shuffle their feet, exchanging nervous glances.
“Guess it feels real now,” Avelina says, her normally brash demeanor somewhat blunted by the idea of potentially dying on a training run.
It’s a level of risk that they aren’t used to, and their discomfort is tangible. I apologize to Ember, vowing to take her seriously and watch out for my team. For the first time that day, she smiles. It’s brief and grim, but still genuine.
“Good. We’ll need that sincerity while you’re on the hunt. I hope you’re all prepared to make sacrifices today. Do not expect me to coddle you; you’re all adults here. Barely. Know that I will not let you die, however.”
Nervous energy floods my limbs. I pestered Ember about teaching me to fight ever since I was old enough to hear the stories of the heroes of Densmore in the village square, and she indulged me enough that I learned the basics. Any time a traveling [Bard] or minstrel troupe passed through town, I’d sit at their feet with wide eyes and heart aglow, drinking in their stories and vowing to match their heights one day.
After the travails of losing a hand in the Lesser Rift, not to mention my close encounter with the predatorial jaguars, I am no longer suffering from the delusion that I am a doughty warrior of renown. Martial training is the pursuit of a lifetime, not simply a few tricks I can pick up in an afternoon. The good news is that Ember will accompany our first team hunt, and I have absolute confidence in her ability to keep us alive no matter what we encounter.
At a nod from Ember, I dive behind Mikko, my shoulders slamming into the back of his knees. As he buckles from the impact, Lionel shoves him hard, his hands hitting Mikko’s shoulders and sending him tumbling to the ground over my crouched back.
I scramble to my feet and whoop in victory. My brother gapes up at me stupidly, shock written across his usually playful features. I offer a sheepish grin in return, although we both know that the implied apology won’t stop me from repeating my actions upon request.
“First lesson,” Ember says, “never let your guard down. Even the strongest member of your party can be taken down by surprise.”
“If I can’t rely on my friends, then who can I trust?” Mikko protests, brushing the dust off as he clambers back to his feet. He laughs and pulls me into a headlock, tousling my hair and reestablishing the pecking order.
“Trust no one,” Ember is quick to claim. “All it takes is relaxing for one moment because you think that you're not at risk, and the enemy might get the drop on you.”
“To be fair, we’re not engaging enemy soldiers,” I say, scratching at the back of my head. Is this the kind of training Ember received in the Royal army? No wonder she’s so dour and structured all the time.
“Monsters are no different,” Ember insists, a stubborn, ironclad undertone to her words. She won’t bend on this point, I can tell. “They prey on the unsuspecting, much like a raiding party. Take this to heart, Nuri. You of all people should understand this truth after the jaguars ambushed you.”
"Point taken," I say quietly, meeting her eyes for a fleeting moment. Instinctively, I want to defend my reasoning, or explain why she's being paranoid, but she has far more experience than I do, and insisting that I’m right will only make me look like a petulant child. Far better to keep my peace and actually learn something.
The others fall in the line as we set out for our hunt. I'm still not sure what manner of creature we're going after, but I know that it won't involve jaguars. We already destroyed their population in the region a few years ago. I could take care of them back when I was far less proficient in mana use, so I’m confident that now I could wipe out their entire pack, provided I’m topped off with mana through my glass pseudo-cores. We’re hardly out in the deep wilderness, and there's no way she’ll take a bunch of raw recruits on an excursion without determining a proper threat level. So, she will probably have us go after something slow and strong, but not necessarily lethal.
Based on my admittedly-meager knowledge of the wildlife surrounding the city of Silaraon, my bet is on a Crystal Badger. Aptly named for the strange, glass-like, organic crystalline structure that grows in a ridge down the length of their spines, they’re tough and reclusive, but technically a novice threat a notch below the Shadow Jaguars.
I’ve always wondered if examining their crystal structure might be valuable for advancing my understanding as a glass-maker. If the rumors can be believed, they use a primal version of imbuing to infuse mana into their crystals for extra durability, creating a shimmering, fractal-like shield. The built-in natural armor gives the ornery creatures a chance to survive against much larger predators. Thankfully, they’re nowhere near as nasty or dangerous as their cousins, the infamous honey badgers. I hope we get to catch a Crystal Badger today; I’d like to compare their imbuing methods with my own.
Hours later, as the hot sun beats down and our enthusiasm has been flattened as thin as a fine sheet of gold leaf, we still haven’t located any tracks. I suspect that Ember is already well aware of precisely where we’ll find our prey, but she wants us to get a taste of how difficult this training will be. Tempering us through the fires of adversity, or some such concept.
Trudging down the forest path, we all tiptoe along, casting suspicious glances back and forth, squinting at every little shadow. We've seen neither hide nor hair of our quarry, but Ember’s insistence on vigilance is finally getting through. All it took was stepping on a lashing vine with four-sided thorns sharp and sturdy enough to pierce even Mikko’s skin for us to finally listen up and stay on guard.
I cut off a length of the tough, flexible vine, intrigued by the possibilities of using it as a weapon in our upcoming fight. I need a way to tangle up my opponent, since I have to get up close and personal to inflict damage, and I still feel at a disadvantage without my left hand. The others wait for me to finish, since Ember insists leaving a member behind is a good way to get someone hurt—or killed.
Half an hour later, just as my throat reminds me how parched I am, Ember calls for a lunch break. It's nearly mid afternoon, past our normal lunch time, but I feel lucky regardless. I figured that she would push us all day without food, water, or rest, just to grind us down and teach us about the consequences of our bright-eyed optimism.
Everyone flops down, groaning in relief. Lionel even takes his boots off to rub his feet, until Ember lifts her boot heel menacingly and says she hopes that she won’t crush his toes by “accident.” His horrified look earns him a quiet chuckle from Ember, who’s not actually anywhere near mean enough to follow through on her threat, but the rest of us sit up straighter and try to look alert after her teasing.
I shoot him a sympathy look when Ember turns her attention elsewhere, but he shakes his head and looks embarrassed. “Rookie mistake. She’s right to call me out.”
“Could have happened to any of us,” Melina says. “I’m pretty sore, too.”
Mikko claps Lionel on the shoulder to encourage him. “You’re not the big oaf who let two weaklings topple you over. And I'm the dummy who stepped on that vine, not you, so cheer up. We’re practicing watchfulness.”
“All right, so I’m a half step up from Mikko. That’s exactly where I want to rank in this team,” Lionel says with a snicker.
My brother growls in mock outrage. “This is the thanks I get for self-sacrifice, eh? See if I block the next monster with my body!”
The team joins in the good-natured teasing, and we seem to grow a little closer over the silliness with Lionel’s bare feet. Despite our fruitless search, we’re looking out for each other. Making mistakes in a safe environment is the point of our training; we’re figuring everything out together, so I’ll count this team-building exercise as a win.
I help Ava and Mikko set up on a wide, flat rock for lunch, and we eat in shifts while the other half of the team keeps a lookout. Ember nods in approval at our precaution, offering small pointers and tips to help us get the hang of sentry work.
Ava wolfs down her meal and swaps places with her twin. I eat at a more measured pace, and I shift over to sit closer to Melina. Something about my demeanor must set her on edge; her eyes are wary, almost resigned, as though she’s expecting bad news. I lower my voice, just in case she prefers privacy. “Padouk offered us shelter if we ever want to visit Naftali. Might be a while, though. I have more pressing business elsewhere first.”
Melina’s face is impassive, except for a single throbbing vein that stands out on the side of her temple. “What makes you think that I’m bound by your business? I could leave now, by myself. Visit on my own terms.”
“You could,” I say agreeably, offering her a slight smile and nod of encouragement. “But if my hunch is correct, then we’ll be on the move soon, and we could use a voice of reason in our group.”
“I suppose I can’t very well leave Ava to her own devices,” Melina says, her lips twitching as she tries not to smirk and finally fails. “Assuming she’s part of this mysterious group. Who do you plan to spirit away from Silaraon this time?”
“Someone with impeccable communication and a head for strategy and statistics.”
“No! You’re dead-set on taking Rakesh on another adventure?” Melina nudges with me with her elbow. “He was shaking like a leaf last time. How could you do that to the poor man?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“He’s more resilient than you’re giving him credit for,” I protest. “Besides, he wants to be involved. He isn’t content to simply track down news articles about glass, or help you find the perfect gift for my birthday. Rakesh has big plans.”
“He is excellent at securing presents. You know, it was Lionel’s idea to look for a picture after hearing from you that your father trained the Peliharaon team. Lio mentioned it to Ava, who recruited me. All I did was get in touch with our friend Rakesh. He leveraged his contacts at the Silaraon City Academy to help comb through old news archives. He found the image for us in some obscure index.”
“Rakesh is an impressive [Researcher], no question. He’s the perfect graduate assistant to Ezio. I’m grateful for his assistance, and for your persistence. I never dreamed that I’d ever see his face again,” I say shyly, not knowing how to express the depths of my gratitude.
“Think nothing of it, Nuri,” she says airly. “That’s just what friends do.”
“Thank you, Mel,” I say quietly. I focus on tying the vine into a lasso loop, too overcome with an unexpected surge of emotion to respond for a few minutes. I look up and meet her eyes when I finish the knot. “I’d almost forgotten what that’s like.”
“Enough of that,” Melina chides me, her tone warm, but brooking no argument. “You’re back among family. Don’t dwell on what happened in the past. But let’s stay focused on our task at hand: how does Rakesh fit into the team makeup? He’s not a fighter.”
“Neither are you,” I point out.
“Yes, but I can surprise enemies with my localized temporal field. How well do you think they’ll be able to fight back when they can barely move?” Melina asks wryly.
“Fair enough. But Rakesh is valuable because he can keep us all in touch across the entire field. He recently acquired a new Skill: [Echo of the Songbird].”
“Ooh, that sounds fancy. Why don't I get the good names?” Melina says.
“Your Skills are amazing as it is,” I grumble. “Let Rakesh have his moment. Anyway, the range is currently a few hundred paces, but that's enough to act as our tactical leader. Over time, he might be able to rank it up and give us more operational flexibility.”
Melina tilts her head to the side. She surveys the clearing, counting the people on the mission. “So why isn't he here today?”
“Bad headache. Too much mana strain. I told him that he couldn't beat my puzzle record, but he insisted on trying,” I say, snickering.
=+=
Bellies full and spirits high, we continue on after lunch with more spring in our step. Less than an hour later, Melina shows just how meticulous her eye for detail is when she spots tracks in the underbrush that match our quarry. Ember appears at her side, silent as a ghost, and congratulates her for taking the lead in our informal investigation.
Melina blushes but accepts the praise with good grace. True to form, she refuses to settle for a single win; she continues to look in the dirt, frowning as she studies the markings more closely while she shuffles about in ever-expanding circles. Soon, she announces that she thinks she's found a deer run behind a thick clump of prickly, low-lying bushes with iridescent leaves. She beckons us over and asks Ember for her thoughts.
Ember seems amused at the way we all look to her for approval. “At some point, you’ll need to learn to become self-sufficient. Until then: I agree that it's not only a likely candidate for a pathway that our prey might take, but it's also absolutely the way you should follow.” She sighs dramatically. “It goes against my principles to make things so easy on you, but we’re not equipped to stay out all night, and the lot of you have burned enough daylight as it is. Let’s pick up the pace and go catch a Crystal Badger.”
I grin at the confirmation that I predicted our prey for the hunt. I'm looking forward to studying the method of mana imbuing, assuming we catch the poor little thing. We’ll have to be careful to walk the razor’s edge to trigger the shield before our damage overwhelms it. I can’t access mana as freely as I could back in the fight against the crimson crabs, but I should still be able to shred the badger with ease if I send out a burst of mana infused with sharpness.
I chuckle to myself. What could go wrong?
“Contact ahead. Keep in a column and don't scare it off—or attract undue attention.”
Ember’s warning to keep quiet and stay in a single file line falls on deaf ears. We rush ahead, our boots trampling the underbrush in our exuberance to catch our target. It’s a wonder we can hunt anything at all with the racket we're making, but it seems to be a universal truth that badgers just don’t care.
“There it is!” Mikko shouts a moment later, all semblance of stealth forgotten in his excitement to finally get into the fight. He unslings the massive, two-handed hammer that he borrowed from the forge, and prepares to smash anything in his path, a war cry on his lips while he charges ahead.
Our black-furred, stocky quarry doesn't retreat or hide. The badger barely reaches to my knee height, but it’s heavily-muscled and stout, with the namesake crystal on its back. Now that it appears to sense us, it widens its stance, digging its claws in the hard dirt and leaving deep furrows. With a wheezing grunt, it lowers its head and huffs out a challenge.
Before I can warn Mikko that its hackles are up and it might attack, the badger charges forward, growling and spitting. Its spiky hair stands on end, making the enraged creature look almost twice as large as usual. Lips curled back in a feral snarl, the badger launches itself at my brother.
Mikko throws himself to the side in a spray of dirt as his heavy boots skid along the ground, and he barely avoids the wild swings of claws. They spin to face each other, but the badger recovers its balance first. Its muscles uncoil, and it springs up at him with flashing teeth. He blocks the bite with the shaft of the hammer, resets his feet, and slams the square head of the heavy tool into the bulky crystals on its back, sending it sprawling in a shower of sparks.
Avelina runs up beside him, blasting it with fire from a distance while the creature is thrashing about in the dirt. The gout of flames surging forth from her hand starts strong, but the mana dissipates before it does more than singe the badger’s fur. She backs up as it scrambles to its feet and hisses at her.
“Get closer!” Mikko shouts. “I’ll pin it down for you with another blow from my hammer.”
She nods and summons her flames again, holding them in a compressed ball in her hands as she pours more mana into the Skill. They advance together, since she has to get closer to keep her stream of fire intact. Lampworking is very different from doing meaningful damage in a fight.
I watch the brawl with semi-detached interest as I catch up with the pair. The little badger is tougher than I gave it credit for; it hasn’t even used its shielding ability that I can tell, unless it’s a passive shield, rather than active Skill. The crystal on its back intrigues me to no end. If I can learn how it works, then I can imbue the same concept into my glass to keep it from shattering. I could probably make relatively inexpensive armor for everyone on the team with enough time. It will be a new, improved version of my old seashell concept.
Mikko’s big forge-hammer swings down again, impacting with such force that I’m sure the badger will break in half before I can get a good look at the shield. Instead of hitting the crystal, the hammer rebounds from a shimmering dome that forms around the animal, blocking the blow entirely and denting the metal in the process.
I gasp in appreciation at the display of prowess. The badger might be nothing more than a mindless beast, but the scant flows of mana I managed to detect were expertly guided into place by the badger. Holding the image in mind, I draw on the reserves of mana in my glass cores, which are sitting at roughly half capacity, and try to copy the exquisite control I witnessed a moment earlier.
Replicating the spell free-form is daunting, and without making glass and giving structure to the energy, I fail miserably at the mana-retention stage. Essentially, I’m trying to mana imbue in real time, but without a medium on which to imprint the mana and concepts. So that’s, what, enchanting? Evocation?
‘Nuri! Watch out!” Melina calls out.
Her warning breaks me out of my cascading pattern of thoughts. My head whips around, looking for the Crystal Badger, and I catch sight of it barrelling down on me, its eyes aglow with fury and hatred.
Cursing my split attention, I try to dive out of the way. I’m too slow; the badger headbutts me in the shin, knocking me down. I flip over its charging body, thudding into the dirt. Agony from the impact site radiates across my leg, and I grunt in pain as I writhe on the ground. How strong is that thing? That felt like getting kicked by a horse!
Mikko is there a moment later, rushing past me to block the rampaging beast. He swings his hammer in a great, underhanded arc, catching the badger under its chin and blasting it to the side before it can gut me with its sharp claws. He draws back for another blow, but the badger is too quick and cunning to get hit again. It twists under his wild swing, darting in and biting Mikko’s upper calf, just above his sturdy leather boots.
To my shock, its needle-like teeth pierce through Mikko’s [Iron Skin], and he bellows in pain and surprise. He lashes out at the badger, but its shield holds, and his hammer bounces off it ineffectually.
I spring into action, jabbing the Crystal Badger in the eye with my short staff held out like a sword. The glimmering shield manifests again to protect its face, but I pour my mana down the wooden cane, pushing the concept of sharpness into the attack. The shield fuzzes, then bursts apart in a mist of loose mana. It flinches away, releasing its hold on Mikko’s leg.
“Get him to Lionel for healing!” I growl, interposing myself between the badger and my brother, although I try to keep an eye on each one. Avelina hooks her arm under Mikko’s armpit and tries to help him hobble away.
Lionel dashes over, screaming a battle song off-key, his voice warbling badly. The sound gets worse the closer he comes. I stare at him in shock as I realize that he’s never been in a real fight before. He’s scared—terrified. Hands shaking, he stabs half-heartedly at the enraged beast with his spear, but his breathing is coming faster and more shallow by the second. He lunges at our prey, slips on a clump of loose dirt, and trips, going down hard. Right in front of the creature’s snarling face.
The badger pounces, its row of sharp teeth open wide.
Melina arrives just then. She throws up her hands, muttering as she gasps for air, trying to catch her breath from all the sprinting. A strange distortion in space catches the badger as it flies toward Lionel, and it seems to freeze in time, suspended in the air. Its eyes bulge, and the beast strains against the odd temporal interference, fighting to break free.
Lionel crab-walks backward on all fours, leaving his spear out of reach. He leaps up to his feet as soon as he’s gained some distance on the badger, and runs over to where Mikko and Avelina are crouched behind a rock. He places his hands on my brother’s injury, and a surge of soothing, restorative mana courses between them.
The healing will take a while to complete, so I step up to buy them time. I can’t believe that I worried we wouldn’t trigger the shield ability before we killed this thing! Arrogant, Nuri. You can’t make those kinds of mistakes.
I adopt a sword-stance Ember taught me, shuffling forward with balanced steps, keeping my weight shifted forward slightly, toward the balls of my feet. I relax my grip on the sword-staff in my hand, not letting go, but taking care not to tense up too much so that I can no longer move fluidly. Before I step into range to snap out another mana-empowered strike to pierce through its shield, however, something whizzes past my head.
I duck instinctively, turning to locate the source of the sound. Melina is scowling in fierce concentration, her body trembling as she manifests a second temporal zone. This one is tiny, but it appears to move in the other direction; she’s activating another Skill for manipulation, throwing small rocks through the field to accelerate the projectiles faster than my eyes can track them.
Three sharp cracks ring out, and the shield shatters. Another stone—this one as large as my fist—joins the fusilade. It hums through the air with a deeper tone than the whine produced by the smaller shards of rock, and stops abruptly with a wet, sickening thud as it crunches the joints in the badger's hind legs.
I drop my ashwood short staff, untuck the thorny vine I braided during our lunch break, and swing it over my head like a lasso. I fling it toward the injured badger, and it loops it over the tough little monster’s intact front legs. Cursing my bad luck—I was aiming for the head so I could get the lasso around its neck—I yank the vine tight, building a connection to the beast. As soon as I get a grip on the mana in my cores, which feels slick and unresponsive thanks to my surging adrenaline and lack of focus, I cast [Vitrification] through the vine while also pushing the concept of sharpness through the makeshift rope.
My homebrewed Skill surges along the length of the vine and into the lasso, turning it into a glassified, razor-edged circlet that cuts through the tough muscles and tendons in its legs. The Crystal Badger howls in pain, twisting side to side and whining piteously.
“Nice job, Nuri! Way to show that badger who’s boss!” Mikko hollers, thundering back into the fray now that his wound is closed up. Behind him, leaning against a rock for support, Lionel’s cheeks have taken on an ashen pallor, likely from forcing too much mana into the connection and taking a hit to his vitality in the backlash of the healing Skill.
“Die, foul fiend!” Mikko roars, so loudly that I wince. He raises the hammer and enhances his swing with his greatest strength Skill, [Strength of the Forge Gods], empowering the blow to crash through the shield and crush the badger’s head, putting it out of the fight for good.
The hammer’s steel handle bends, groaning on impact, and the head of the big hammer twists, deforming under the intense forces unleashed in the strike. He shouts aloud, pounding his chest in brash exuberance.
“Quiet!” Ember hisses, ghosting out from behind a tree. “The last thing you want to do out here in the wilds is attract the wrong kind of attention.”
Mikko has the good grace to look ashamed, but it’s too late. An answering roar sounds from a nearby ravine, savage and predatorial. Heavy footfalls shake the earth. A surly, rust-red bear charges out of the trees, its rugged body aflame but unburnt. It lets loose another earth-shaking roar, blasting the air from my lungs in concussive force.
As one, we close ranks, picking up our fallen weapons, and turn to face our greatest challenge yet.