Over the course of the next five days, not a lot of things happened to their surroundings.
They rose, walked, made a few breaks now and then, made camp, slept.
A rather mundane routine, only sweetened by the morning activities or the occasional banter in the evening – with one notable exception.
Aurora’s soul was still recovering with every additional day while his own wounds had been healed thanks to Mellia’s enchantment and soon, Arakiel felt increasingly ready to spar with Ezekiel who had begun to exercise and test his abilities whenever they were resting.
On the third night, the party had debated the nature of what they had learned thus far. Ezekiel had reasoned that he had two states, an active and a passive state, depending on whether Selene’s silver soulfire was inside him or covering his skin.
When the silver fire was inside, he got a passive boost to his overall performance, but there was no way for him to direct or manipulate his surroundings – that changed as soon as he switched to an ‘active’ state, which Arakiel dubbed ‘having taken on an aspect’.
Ezekiel did so by focusing on Selene as his slave, the one whose aspect he had taken by making her submit to him in full.
Taking on Selene’s aspect this way had allowed Ezekiel nothing special at first, until Mellia of all people offered a hint that ended up changing quite literally everything.
Arakiel’s little sister explained that mortal spellcasting was predetermined by the Class System. Each Path had spells for each of the five schools, ranking from 1 to 10. The way to actually cast a spell was to call upon the respective path’s energy and then perform a gesture alongside the intent as inscribed into one’s mind upon attaining ranks.
For example, Mellia’s relief enchantment demanded she have the raw energy of both paths – nature and astral – cross before uttering the intent to mend and restore and only then could she apply the array with a touch of both hands combined.
When Ezekiel had tried this, he claimed that he had no point of reference, at which point Mellia gave the deciding hint and Arakiel had no idea whether she had known or whether their mother had told her, for he found it unlikely that she knew a lot about immortals given her age.
Nonetheless, his little sister pointed out that immortal spellcasting differed slightly, for although there was still the need for the raw energy of the immortal’s soul, will and intent played the critical role in determining the spell’s effect – something immortals usually bypassed through the use of sigils that they ascribed intent to.
At its core, both types of spellcasting were the same, only that immortals had the means and the necessity to create their own spells, which made them so exceedingly dangerous to fight if they had amassed a lifetime of experience.
At that point, Ezekiel and Arakiel realized that Shemyaza’s ritual had turned them into partial immortal spellcasters, in a way. While Arakiel felt appalled at first, Ezekiel immediately embraced his newfound power and potential with open arms.
It took Arakiel the entire next day to stomach what he had learned, and to fixate his mind onto the fact that he wasn’t wielding immortal power, he was drawing from Aurora’s light, from her soul and its flame. She might be immortal, but he could not bring himself to hate her, despise her. She was his aurea – and as such, it was only fair to accept the soul that she readily offered to him.
On the Darkday of the Sixth Conflict, an entire week had passed since Aurora first caught the dawn for him, something she had done over the past four mornings, netting them five dawnshards as she had requested he call them.
Today, she had wanted to repeat the ritual again, only to discover that the very first shard she had created for Arakiel had been reduced to a pile of thin white and red dust. This revelation left her in tatters for most of the day and Arakiel had to spend a lot of effort and time to soothe his seraphim while mulling over the fact that she might not make him a fortune just by existing.
Any shards, be they elemental or sorcerous, were very valuable. Twinshards that held the power of two paths were even more rare and much, much more expensive. The fact that Aurora’s dawnshards seemed to hold three paths was unprecedented as far as he knew, but maybe it was for the best. Their temporary nature might net him some unexpected benefits later down the road, though.
In the future, it meant that he had at most six dawnshards to work with if Aurora performed the ceremony every morning and so far, she had usually done so after several passionate tussles in the sheets or rather, on whatever solid surface they could find. On the other hand, it also meant that there was no harm in figuring out whether he could already tap their potential, or whether it was something that only Aurora could do.
When the party found a low mesa made of polished sandstone on the next day, Arakiel and Ezekiel had at last found a place to spar.
It took a bit of searching, but they even found a ravine that wound itself up to the relatively flat plateau where one had a solid surface beneath one’s feet.
Speaking of feet, Arakiel’s boots would most likely disintegrate over the course of the coming weeks and even now, his feet were already blistered. If not for Mellia, he would’ve been unable to walk at all.
Aurora and Selene, on the other hand, had somehow managed to walk barefoot all this time, the scorching hot sand refusing to touch the seraphim. Overall, they appeared thoroughly impervious to the weather and the heat, which was certainly a new development.
So far, Aurora had been unable to sweat, but ever since he had formed the covenant with her, her soul’s fire seemed to regulate her body’s temperature somehow. It was the same with Selene, who did not have a lot of fire as Ezekiel usually seized it every morning while Arakiel hadn’t drawn any yet, letting his aurea recover until she felt perfectly comfortable again.
It only further proved that immortals were different from mortals.
In this case, however, Arakiel was glad that he and Ezekiel would be the only ones who might get a problem soon, as his partner-in-crime’s boots weren’t much better off.
Mellia was fine on this front as well. Arakiel could only assume her magic helped her deal with the heat and the fact that she walked around in that thick cloak of hers would most likely remain a mystery to him for a while longer.
When the sun began to set and they had found a good spot to camp in the ravine, the five of them once again ascended in order to find a good, flat spot, which was very easy.
Arakiel had never sparred with Ezekiel before, but the two had clashes several times when Arakiel had still been a Traveler and Ezekiel had been a cripple. The differences had been tremendous, yet Ezekiel had managed to outsmart Arakiel on battle sense alone. Now, they might have similar levels of power, but Arakiel had had a few fights since then whereas Ezekiel had been busy training Selene.
To make it quick, Arakiel didn’t know how their spar might turn out, but they’d both need to familiarize with their powers if they were to make an impact on this plane.
Selene and Ezekiel were on one side, the Selenyean princess having begun to fully ease back into her role as his slave in some aspects while her overall haughtiness and arrogance towards anyone that wasn’t Ezekiel seemed to worsen. Granted, everyone else paid her basically no mind at all although Arakiel had caught wind of her being extremely frustrated since she had failed where Aurora succeeded.
Selene could not catch the dawn and hadn’t given her master a single shard so far.
On Arakiel’s side, Mellia had pulled off her hood after sitting down on a small, relatively flat rock. Her deep green eyes with the golden speckle watched him with curious interest. Meanwhile, Arakiel turned towards Aurora whose hands he held.
As always, they exchanged a few, little intimacies and then she gave him a small nod at which point he drew upon her soul, filling him with nearly everything.
He then guided her over towards Mellia, where set sat down next to his little sister who had actually moved away just a little, even if she still didn’t deem Aurora worthy of her gaze.
“I look forward to thy performance, brother Arakiel. Make thy House proud.” Mellia said quietly out of the blue, briefly looking right at him.
He gave her a curt smile, replying. “It’s a spar, not a duel.”
“Nonetheless, give thine all. I will heal thy battered body if need be, but do give thine all.”
“I will, little sister. I expect Ezekiel still has an axe or two to grind with me.” Arakiel responded and then got up. Given her reaction, she didn’t seem aware of that idiom, which he found funny.
“Ready, my partner-in-crime?” Ezekiel shouted while in the far distance, dusk had begun, bathing the world in shadow for but a while. His sparring partner had begun to glow in a sizable silver aura, its flame-like edges flickering mysteriously in the twilight.
Arakiel felt the fire inside him and, thinking on his oath to Aurora, he felt the golden fire rushing out of his body, beginning to cover his skin. He took on Aurora’s aspect. The aura was exceedingly thin, but it covered him from head to toe. It wouldn’t have worked otherwise… Aurora and him had tried over the past days.
Right away, the dawnshard in his hand began to glow, softly radiating three different colors, with gold being the predominant one by far. In addition, it gave off a faint gentle warmth.
“I am, Ezekiel… there’s just one question remaining. Do we go all out right away… or do we ease into things?” Arakiel asked and Ezekiel chuckled audibly.
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“Oh Arakiel, there’s so much I need to thank you for… it’d be a shame to postpone it.”
Arakiel felt a bad premonition, but it was to be expected.
“So be it.”
Arakiel clutched Aurora’s gift tightly and began to focus his mind onto the golden color, on his seraphim’s astral light. Astral, one of the two high sorceries, was the domain of the mind, of light and the stars, of the fates and the fabric of reality itself.
On the inside, he fixated onto the concept of ‘space’ in combination with ‘projection’ and ‘travel’, hoping to find an anchor or beacon similar to the way he used to traverse the planes.
He opened his eyes and imagined himself as one point in the tapestry of the plane, while the space right next to Ezekiel was another point. Then, Arakiel folded the tapestry, bringing both points right on top of one another.
A sheen of gold flashed before his eyes and in the next moment, he was standing next to Ezekiel whose eyes widened with notable surprise.
Arakiel immediately went for a gut punch, but when his strike should’ve buried into his opponent’s abdomen, he suddenly felt his fist slipping as though it he was fated to miss his first attack.
At the same time, a thin and brief flash of silver light lit up before it dissolved into tiny motes of silver dust.
Ezekiel hurried back in order to create some distance as Arakiel had thoroughly caught him by surprise, but he wouldn’t let him.
This time, Arakiel blinked towards the space behind Ezekiel who didn’t manage to swirl around in time as Arakiel punched his lower back with as much strength as he could muster.
Ezekiel groaned as Arakiel’s fist connected, no further defensive layer being in place and he dashed forward while holding his side, yet when Arakiel tried to blink again, it didn’t work.
With shock, he realized that he had thoroughly drained the shard’s golden color.
“How’d you do that?” Ezekiel cried out meanwhile, having stopped a good ten meters away.
Arakiel’s lips formed to a smirk. “I haven’t been idle the last two days, you know…”
“Oh really? Good, I was afraid I was gonna thrash you like some snotty brat!” Ezekiel returned, his fighting spirit still in place.
Granted, he probably wanted to get back at him for the whole thing in Kalanaar.
Meanwhile, Arakiel focused his thoughts onto the white color, on Aurora’s frankly feeble aspect of air. Air, the elemental domain of lightning, of thunder and most importantly, of the very winds.
In his inner mind, he focused on the concepts of ‘wind’ and ‘aversion’ and as he gripped the shard further, he felt gusts of wind beginning to orbit his body, swirling up dust and sand in the process. A faint wind’s howl echoed in his ears and then he combined the concept of ‘wind’ with ‘cut’ while performing an arc-like motion with the hand that held the shard.
Arakiel saw the deceptively faint golden distortion that he sent towards his sparring partner. The slice of wind was fast and about as wide as he had drawn the arc, but Ezekiel easily noticed it and simply jumped over it.
The projectile soon lost strength behind him, fading out.
“Any other tricks you want to perform before it’s my turn?” Ezekiel challenged confidently.
“I didn’t realize we were doing turn-based combat,” Arakiel countered although it did seem weird that Ezekiel hadn’t attacked yet.
“We’re sparring, Arakiel. We’re both supposed to learn something from it.”
“I also didn’t realize you were a team player.”
Ezekiel raised his arms as he shrugged with his shoulders. “Out in the planes, you win or lose together – there’s no in between, Arakiel.”
“Funny, because I’ve been a solo for more or less my entire life.” Arakiel pointed out, but Ezekiel’s retort utterly refuted him.
“Look where that got you.”
A flash of anger arose inside Arakiel. “Insults all you got!?”
“Got plenty to spare, but as I said – we’re both supposed to learn from this.” Ezekiel said once again. “So do your spells, familiarize with them – gauge how much energy you need to draw and so forth… that’s what this is for.”
“Wasn't are you were a teacher all of a sudden.” He shouted, realizing that he was the venomous one now.
He forced himself to calm down. This was not a fight, this was a spar. One that would smooth over a few of their many, many differences.
“I’ve been teaching girls ever since I was maimed and left a cripple, Arakiel. But I never stopped training for the day it might get reversed.” Ezekiel answered and his tone suddenly turned proud. “And at last, that day has arrived. I am no longer Ezekiel the Cripple, Ezekiel the Delusional… Ezekiel the Failure!”
The man held out his hands and then formed them into fists, stating assuredly. “You and Shem have given me the greatest gift I could possibly ask for. A chance to take my fate into my own hands! And for that, Arakiel, I will always consider you a friend, for it was your and Shemyaza’s tireless work that allowed this ritual to happen!”
The intensity of Ezekiel’s tone surprised Arakiel, but it did kind of make sense. He found it hard to fathom how Ezekiel had actually managed to pull through with his handicap. In this regard, he was much, much more a man that Arakiel had been, for he had turned tail right after his first thorough defeat.
Alas, that was all in the past now.
“Prepare yourself, Arakiel! I have given you enough time to play around… let’s fight!” Ezekiel shouted and then his outline suddenly blurred and the man in silver rushed over towards Arakiel at a rapid, almost frightening pace.
Arakiel focused onto the red and forced the concepts of ‘fire’ and ‘fan’ onto it, but before he finished, he suddenly felt the winds surrounding him rush to a spot where Ezekiel’s leg was about to…
He dropped the thought as instinct took over, raising his arm just in time to block his opponent’s blow, but just a brief moment later, more attacks followed and Ezekiel’s outline was blurry, staggered, making it hard to predict where he’d strike.
“Bang, you’re dead!” Ezekiel then shouted and stopped, two of his fingers right at Arakiel’s neck who suddenly held his breath, not even having noticed Ezekiel bypassing him.
The next moment, he felt a knee burying deep into his gut and while he keeled over, he heard Ezekiel talk above him. “That’s for Kaukones’ Bank.”
Ezekiel then rammed his elbow with gusto in Arakiel’s back, sending him onto the ground. As before, the swirling winds had tried to intervene, but melee attacks were much too potent to block with mere gusts. “That’s for the Vellum incident.”
Despite having taken two hits, Arakiel managed to roll to the side just in time to evade Ezekiel stomping on him, saying. “And that’s for Cutters’ Inn.”
“Kinda resentful, aren’t you?” Arakiel muttered and coughed, his stomach and back hurting kind of a lot.
“I’ve had lots of time to think, Arakiel. Stuff takes a long time when you only got one hand,” Ezekiel pointed out. He was upon him again, but Arakiel raised the hand with his shard while forcing the earlier concepts onto reality. It resulted in his hand drawing an arc of reddish-golden fire that began to fan out in the front, hitting Ezekiel point blank.
His sparring partner cried out as his clothes were set aflame and he swiftly let himself fall as he began to roll around on the floor.
Meanwhile, the shard in Arakiel’s hand crumbled into dust, but his seraphim’s aspect remained untouched.
It was just… he was using far too much for what little effect he gained.
He gave Ezekiel time to put the fire out and regain his composure. Although he had initially thought that the slaver might accuse him of foul play, nothing of the sort happened. Instead, his amethyst eyes with the silver halo looked determined, even showing a hint of respect.
The blur around had vanished, too.
“Gotta say it, those shards of little Aurora are kinda impressive. Allows you to put a fight with such a thin aura.”
“The effect seems wildly disproportionate to how much I tap from the shard, though.” Arakiel lamented with a sigh.
“Then we gotta refine it. Figure out where the problem lies and build upon that. So far, I’d say say we’re certainly in the level one range, but with more tricks to pull from.” Ezekiel reasoned and the elucidated. “My blur and swiftness are air while the little silver dome in the beginning was astral. I feel like an odd Alterator, one whose limit is not his fatigue, but how much fire he has.”
“If thou seekest mine advice, I sayeth thy potential is great, but thine execution merits critique.” Mellia added in from the side, getting up. Then, she went on to admonish them, kind of. “Thy hesitation in combat is inexcusable. Thy spells need to manifest as soon as thou imagines them.”
“You say that my dear sister, but it’s not quite something you just… do.”
“I am aware, which is why I propose that thou should use this area to practice and polish thy skills.”
“But we’re doing that right now?” Ezekiel asked, turning towards her. “Or did you want to join?”
“Mine skill lieth not in combat, Lord Ezekiel.”
“Told you, I’m not a lord.”
“Thou art a planeswalker, Lord Ezekiel. Thy skill merits an adequate title. Seek comfort or pride in mine words, for they are not spoken easily.”
“I’d be more comfortable if you could speak normally, Lady Mellia.” Ezekiel returned and let out a sigh.
“Then thou should get cozy with being uncomfortable, Lord Ezekiel. Mine expression is not a matter for debate.” Mellia responded, giving him a smug and satisfied smile which would probably be enough to make many men – especially younger ones – fall for her in the spot.
Arakiel could tell that even Ezekiel had trouble keeping his wits about him and that man had worked with aes, argents and maybe even a few aureas his entire life.
“So, Mellia… what was your critique about again?”
“Thou shouldst first ponder on which spells to learn and then devise a suitable sigil. Thou art not immortal, but thou will fight as immortals do. As such, it is imperative that thou understand and internalize this method. Beware thine early mistakes lest they become habit.”
“Are these mother's words, Mellia?” Arakiel asked straight ahead and given how she suddenly blushed as though she had been caught stealing, he assumed his gut feeling to have hit the mark.
“Mother did advise me on the subject, but mine conclusions are my own.” She deflected and evaded, but it also explained quite a bit. Still, to think that the Lady Alexandrite would send Mellia of all people still boggled his mind.
“Are there any other subjects that you wish to share your insight on?” Arakiel found himself asking which made his sister give him a very, very mischievous, perhaps even delighted, smile that seemed so out of place that he found himself staring.
“Patience, dearest brother. Thy journey has just begun.”
“You mean our journey?” Ezekiel added, chimed in… asked.
Mellia turned towards him, her smile dying a little. “Thy potential is grand, Lord Ezekiel. Thy character, however, is rotten. If though seekest to accompany my brother and I, thou must improve…”
“Mellia,” Arakiel interrupted and his sister did indeed stop. “Ezekiel is a member of our group, no matter his antics. No second class or anything. He’s a full member.”
“But he’s a commoner!” Mellia suddenly blurted out, her figure of speech slightly cracked and when she noticed, she quickly pulled her hood up to mask her shame.
“Ancestry is but a head start, Lady Mellia.” Ezekiel answered, not sounding insulted. He had shot Arakiel a brief but acknowledging gaze for his defense, though. “The Transcended welcomes anyone, as long as they have the proper mind set. This is the beauty of our current world… that even a cripple like me can not only dream, but eventually achieve it if only the stars align!”
He then turned fully towards Arakiel, saying. “Come, let’s continue. This plane ain’t gonna conquer itself and we are in desperate need of training!”
“I agree, but we’ll do it Mellia’s way. Let’s figure out the basics of our spellcasting first… and then we spar. We have the provisions to spare.”
“That’s fine with me,” Ezekiel answered and turned to the side. “’sides, the view up here is kinda nice.”
As Arakiel let his gaze follow along Ezekiel’s, he beheld endless darkened dunes of sand, occasionally interrupted by polished rock formations that cast a long shadow.
A warm wind blew by, carrying finely ground dust and sand. There was not a single soul far and wide and perhaps, this was for the best.
If this brief exchange with Ezekiel had taught him anything, then that they indeed had to grasp their skill set first and foremost.
Nonetheless, he felt very optimistic about the whole matter, still. Slowly but surely, he had begun to unravel the mysteries of his class.
Mortal Ascendant… he did feel like a mortal, still – but one who had the potential to become something much greater.
Perhaps, just perhaps… maybe Shemyaza’s ritual had worked after all, just different from what they had expected.
Because, no matter how he looked at it, the way Ezekiel’s irises glowed with a faint but noticeable silver halo whenever he took on Selene’s aspect… it reminded him of the glow that demigods’ eyes held whenever they chose to wield the divine sparks.
Only time would tell, but he felt ready.