Aziel admired Passings upon Passings of his hard work. The fruit of his labour made up several rows of rickety bookshelves. It was like visibly seeing an entire year’s worth of sacrifice. Blood and tears put into physical form.
He’d taken every precaution to ensure no damage would come to the tombs he’d accumulated. Thousands of yellowed, ageing pages were gathered here, and if any harm were to be done to them, Aziel would go mad with frustration. Each book contained invaluable records of techniques, all used at some point by Ambition Clansmen.
Each god’s subject of power had the potential to be manipulated in thousands upon thousands of techniques. However, most clans typically stuck with the most convenient, efficient handful. Aziel always thought that was a bit of a shame, but alas, in the heat of battle, your memory didn’t lend itself to recalling hundreds of different abilities.
After the utter disaster of the Pet-Keeper’s attack, however, Aziel knew that the Ambition Clan would need all the power it could get its hands on. If anything like that were to ever occur again, more innocents may suffer the same fate as his mother.
In her memory, he would do all he could to prevent such an outcome.
One of the safety measures to protect the library was fire-resistance. With the help of Koa, whom he’d paid handsomely in exchange for his service, Aziel had hand-writen each volume personally, utilising papyrus paper and leather that Koa had summoned himself. Apparently, Koa had used a similar technique when constructing a castle, during the battle of Maris’ coronation. By Aziel showcasing his own blue Ambition flames, and the pair sparking up a standard-old fire with a flint and steel, Koa had developed a material resistant to both. Apparently the organic code for such a creation was terribly exhausting to make, so Koa had spent an entire day alongside Aziel, eating sugar and caffeine and pumping out page after page.
But that wasn’t Aziel’s only protection. Far from it. Charms had been placed around the boundaries of the library. It was based on an ancient technique Aziel had only discovered as a result of his research. A ring of Tanish’s energy encircled the building. If anyone passed the imperceptible line, Aziel would feel the intent of their own ambition. If they approached with dark desires, wishing to bring harm to the place, or misuse the valuable information inside, Aziel would be the first to know.
This was just one example of how creative you could be with your techniques. Aziel was in the process of enveloping the entire Ambition Clan base with the very same wards, only on a larger scale.
Was he paranoid? Were some books really worth this much protection? In Aziel’ eyes, in the current world they lived in, you could never be too safe.
Especially with how powerful some of his discoveries had been. He was practically jumping on the balls of his feet with excitement, ready to share his findings the very second he was finished testing them out.
That was the real value of the library: it would bring a new age of power to their clan, at a time where it was sorely needed. Trekking through old ruins, searching libraries dotted all across the world, and speaking to some of the oldest beings on Descent had all come to this.
Aziel finched, as someone crossed his boundary. He was prepared to rev his Mark into action, as he sensed the desires of the approaching man. But then he paused. The wishes that he felt . . . their intent was to meet with someone, to share news. Aziel allowed himself a sigh of relief, cursed his anxiety-ridden self, and stormed out of the building.
He couldn’t help but grin at the man he saw, waiting outside.
“Tanguy!” He offered the man a bright smile. Aziel launched into the manliest bear hug the world had ever seen, before taking a step back with boisterous laughter. “Good to see you old friend. What brings you here?”
Tanguy had grown out some facial hair since Aziel had last seen him. Yet he still rocked the traditional buzzcut of his clan, making the growing whiskers of his chin appear more like a lack of personal grooming, rather than a fashion statement. He must have been too busy travelling.
“I have business matters to discuss with you, old friend, but it would be rude of me to jump into that straight away. I brought some food with me — why don’t we share a meal?”
Aziel’s stomach rumbled in response.
Less than five minutes later, the pair of them were seated in the Ambition Clan’s public canteens.
“I hoped the Shifting treated you well,” Aziel said, between bites of beef and apple sauce, “many a traveller get lost in there for Durations. Or never return.”
“It’s not my first rodeo through this place. I’ve been all around Hybrid the last Rebirth. Political matters, mostly. I’m representing the Flame Sect, trying to get back our footing after the base in Territory One was marred beyond recognition.”
Aziel stopped eating. “I hate how everything seems to be getting destroyed nowadays.” He took a tentative nibble, his appetite suddenly vanishing. “Maybe I was too naive to notice before, but it's like the whole world we live in is hanging by a thread. Was it always this bad?”
“Likely.” Tanguy didn’t seem up for eating anymore either. “But things are definitely getting worse. I don’t know, maybe I’m too pessimistic.”
The two finished their meal in heavy silence.
Tanguy took a stand. “Come for a walk with me. I suppose I can’t delay the real reason I came here any longer.”
The pair walked circles around Aziel’s boundary — or at least, as much as he’d laid out. It was a complicated technique, and it would be many moons before he finished the defences.
“I’ll get to the point Aziel, the Flame Sect is in need of friends. Everyone is eager to pick the bones of the Flame Sect like ravens to a corpse. Do you think Brison would be up for an alliance?”
Aziel stopped in his tracks. “You’d have to call an audience with him. But . . . “
“But?”
“It’s a shame, but I don’t think we’re in any position to make such dealings. The Elemental Pact and Animalistic Accord, like any earthly alliance, are wary of one group growing too powerful. Our union with the Carpentry Clan was unprecedented, and while we’re on decent terms with all sects of Hybrid, many people are still up in arms about the whole thing. I doubt Brison would dare push his luck any further.”
“I suppose you’re right. I knew as much before coming here.” Tanguy gazed into the lazy afternoon sky, his expression grave. “I suppose most alliances don’t mean much nowadays. Look at what happened between Juniper and Maris last year, both part of the Elemental Pact. It’s more like the ability to pick and choose when your friend or foe, rather than a mutual friendship.”
“Don’t be too cynical, Tanguy. Those are just the major godly alliances. Minor partnerships, like ours with the Carpentry Clan, are the real deal.”
“I suppose when you have someone like Remus in your midst, to unite both groups, things are a lot simpler.” Tanguy’s eyes widened. “Is that-?”
Cresting a hill, illuminated by a blazing sunset, the hazy image of a hundred or so people nearing the Ambition Clan sent gooseflesh running down Aziel. His heart jumped into his throat, but after a second’s panic, all his fear ran dry.
“Speak of the devil-”
“And he shall appear before you.”
Remus grinned toothily.
Aziel wasn’t entirely sure what to think, as Remus sauntered towards him, about one hundred or so nondescript clansmen followed at his heed. Before he could place names on any people he recognised, Remus launched into a hug.
“Good to see you, my man.” Remus wouldn't stop smiling, offering Tanguy his embrace too. To think that only years ago, the two had been beating each other bloody. Now Tanguy couldn’t have looked more pleased to greet their new arrival.
“I would have messaged.” Remus stretched lightly, a drop of sweat sweeping down his brow after a long walk. “But apparently the Scholar Sect isn’t a fan of travelling through the Shifting.”
Finally, Aziel had the chance to recognise the others. Violet, and Veida. He didn’t have the slightest clue who the rest of the clansmen were, but they appeared amiable enough. Each of them gazed around at the sect in wonder, like children in a sweetshop.
“How long did it take to get here?” Aziel asked.
“He somehow tracked this place down in a matter of days.” Veida approached, sounding awfully impressed.
“It’s easier when you trace the energy of the Ambition Clan via Tanish’s Mark. The first time I was searching this place down . . .” Remus scowled, “not so pretty.”
“Remus,” Tanguy glanced warily at the dozens of clansmen. “Who are all of these people?”
“Oh, these?” Remus mimed ignorance, as if he hadn’t noticed the group tagging along. Yet Aziel had known him enough to spot the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips. “This is just my rebellion.”
Aziel and Tanguy let their mouths hang wide.
Violet appeared out of nowhere, whacking Remus on the shoulder. “Don’t act so high and mighty with your big reveals.”
“Ow! That hurt.”
“Good.”
Remus couldn’t have looked happier to have been hit. Aziel could not get a feel of what was going on between these two. But they seemed joyful, and that was all that really mattered.
“Let’s get straight to it: I’m going to take down Damosh if it’s the last thing I do. I came here because I’m currently gathering forces. Maybe a little selfish of me, but it’s for a good cause. Besides,” Remus spoke in dark tones, “I haven’t heard back from Damion in Passings. I’m starting to fear the worst.”
Aziel and Tanguy glanced at each other.
“Remus, when was the last you heard of your brother?” Aziel asked.
Remus shrugged. “It’s hard to keep track, but ever since Damosh went berserk —what, three Passings ago? — I haven’t heard the slightest thing.”
“Gods, you don’t know?”
Remus' face dropped. “Don’t know what?”
“Come with us. We should meet with Brison and discuss what’s transpired. All shall be revealed then.”
After a second’s hesitation, memories of his last dinner with Maris, he called his men over, and followed on.
Closing in on them from all angles, the mountainous terrain around the Ambition Clan hadn’t changed a smidge, barely out of range of the Shifting. It was as if the rocky surroundings were embracing the base with a warm hug, like benevolent behemoths of nature. He didn’t know how well they’d hold against a real attack, but it was comforting to know they had some kind of barricade.
Even if it hadn’t made a hair of difference against the Pet-Keeper, or the Wild Clan. Remus retreated his attention away from those darker alleys of his mind.
Remus’ eyes caught onto the Gallery, where the finger from the deceased giant Unbounded, Styrmir, was in its final resting place. How much had changed since first stepping foot here, instantly greeted with a personal rendezvous with Tanish.
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But he wasn’t running away anymore. This time, Remus would face his enemies head-on. And Damosh had better be scared — for there was nothing in this world that would delay Remus’ arrival.
Violet picked up her pace, moving beside him. The scent of warm food pervaded through the air, and Remus had to stop himself from drooling.
“Hungy, are you?” She smirked.
“I’m a growing boy, let a man eat.”
“You’re hardly a boy anymore, don’t throw me that excuse.” She looked back at the clansmen at their tails. “Though your men certainly look hungry. Those guys have Feast Clansmen at hand every second of the day, and they somehow never get full.”
Remus was about to state that they deserved an appetite, after walking miles upon miles each and every day, only to notice their awe-inspired gazes. They were regarding the Ambition Clan around them, from the recently erected buildings, to the snowy pinnacles of the mountainside, all as some kind of mythical landmark. The stuff of legend.
For this was the place where Remus, Death-Marked of the Carpentry Clan, had first ascended to power.
“What do you think about our legendary status?” Remus said quietly.
“It’s strange, I’ll give you that. But I prefer it to getting called a monster.”
Remus paused. “It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there these last twelve Passings. Though I’m not sure if I could have provided the best moral support, considering the state I was in.”
“Don’t stress it. Some things we have to deal with by ourselves. I’m at peace.”
A few minutes of peaceful walking led them to Brison, sat on his throne, and conversing with an Ambition Clansman. One who it took Remus only a second to recognise: Edmund. Memories flashed through Remus’ mind, and with vivid detail, he recalled saving the man from the Wild Sect, upon his return to a seized Ambition Clan.
Likewise with Brison, he carried himself regally. After the death of Edmund’s sister, Sibyl, Remus hadn’t been able to look Edmund in the eye, man to man, friend to friend. But now the whole world had been showered with loss, grief, and the terrible pain of losing someone close to you. Such was a ubiquitous pain. It no longer felt like a touchy subject — more akin to a rite of passage of life.
Edmund and Brison were amid a heated discussion. Remus came to a stop, not wanting to interrupt, nor wishing to eavesdrop. The latter proved particularly difficult to avoid, with how loud the two were speaking.
“I’m sorry, my liege, but we need to send our forces very soon. At dawn, by the latest. Our alliance with the Caprenty Clan relies on it.”
Remus threw away any intention to preserve their privacy. The Carpentry Clan? Was Damion in danger?
“Dangerous. Far too dangerous.” Brison shook his head, his physique as massive as always, as veins bulged in his meaty neck. There were indents made by fingerprints in the stone arm of his chair. Brison squeezed tight on that exact spot. “When I agreed to this mission, I didn’t realise how great the risk would be. Damosh is not a force to be reckoned with, if we fail, he could send a great force of Wealth Clansmen to enslave us!”
“Again, excuse my bluntness, Brison, but I think you have become paranoid. Damosh does not have the resources to send out such an attack; he’s hardly keeping a hold on his city as it is.”
At last, Remus harrumphed into a fist. It may have come across as a little rude, but not nearly as impolite as allowing this private meeting to continue in his presence. “Excuse me for interrupting, Brison. I have just arrived, and I bring news, and a proposal. Though it sounds to me as if there is another matter I must address?”
Brison’s neck snapped to Remus. His eyes widened at the sight of the boy. “Remus! You’ve arrived just in time. And I can see you brought quite the display of manpower with you . . .”
“It’s a pleasure to see you too, my liege. Don’t fear, these men are all with me. You said something concerning the Carpentry Sect? Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but I have not heard from them in some time. Is everything okay back there?”
Remus eyed Tanguy and Aziel from the corner of his eyes. The way they were looking at each other, it was as if they were asking: does he really not know?
“I detest being the bearer of bad news Remus, but things do not seem to be going well for our sister sect. They have requested a number of Ambition Clansmen to travel to First Rite, to help escort them out of there unnoticed, through the city's sewers. Their Sect Leader, Damion, made it sound imperative, but I’m concerned with the technicalities of such a mission. I do not wish to bring down Edmar’s wrath on-”
Remus had stopped listening at the mention of his brother’s name. More importantly, the title associated with it. “Hold your horses . . . my brother is sect leader?”
Brison raised both eyebrows. “You weren’ aware?”
“He hasn’t taken the time to respond to my letters . . .”
“He’s the most highly-ranked in the clan overall, a close relative to the past sect leader, and quite competent with the combat-style Andreas specialised in. It seemed like an obvious choice.”
When put like that, it did seem obvious. But Damion as sect leader. He was happy for his brother, glad to know it was someone who he could trust spearheading their clan. But it seemed so utterly at odds with reality. Like a running gag, or inside joke rather than something concrete; something real.
Though it wasn’t like Remus could take the position, not that he particularly wanted it. He still liked to consider himself a proud member of the Caprenty Clan, but the Mark glowing on shoulder and trailing down his arm spoke otherwise. No, this was the only way.
Regardless, it rubbed Remus the wrong way to think that Brison was hesitating to assist his clan, in a time of great peril. Wasn’t the entire point of their alliance to assist each other? The Carpentry Clan had rebuilt the Ambition base from the ground up, and while they had been rewarded handsomely for their efforts, it ticked Remus off to see that Brison was hesitating to repay the favour.
“I’ll personally see that the Carpentry Clan gains the help they need. It would strengthen our alliance if you sent a team out, but I can use my own men if needs be.”
It was somewhat passive aggressive, and Remus hated to come across as rude to Brison. But something was definitely off about the man. Where was the stoic, reliable, quiet beast of a man he once knew?
Finally, Brison seemed to realise the error of his ways. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he quickly looked away. “Forgive me Remus. I’ll make it my most urgent objective to see that your people receive the help they need. I have not been holding up my weight as part of this alliance, and for that, I am sorry.”
And with that, Remus could breathe a little easier. “Thank you. I would have written to announce my arrival, but with the Speed Clan no longer able to send letters, and the Scholar Sect not exactly keen to traverse through the Shifting, the best I could do was send a messenger bird. I suppose it didn’t arrive in time.”
For some reason, the blood drained from Edmund’s face. Was it something Remus had said? Brison remained silent for the most uncomfortable few seconds of Remus’ life.
“What kind of bird?” Brison asked.
“A sparrow.” Violet walked closer. “It’s the messenger bird Veida and I use to message one another when apart. Why do you ask?”
Was that tension that Remus could smell, brewing in the air?
“I’m terribly sorry, lassy,” Brison avoided her eyes. “I instructed my archers to shoot down anything that came from the outside. You can never be too safe.”
The wind roared in Remus’ ears. The grass at his feet brushed against the leather of his shoes, and the entire world seemed to take in a shaky breath.
If reality was made out of glass, Violet sure as hell shattered it. “You what?”
“Look Violet, it’s nothing personal. You’re aware of the times we live in. A little caution is necessary.”
“A little caution?” Veida put Violet’s ire to shame. “What do you think a bird was going to do?”
“Scout out our location in the Shifting! Report back to any number of would-be attackers!” Brison slammed his fist against the arm of his chair. “I will not allow a repeat of the Wild takeover of our clan.”
Remus was about to ask how a bird could ‘report back’, when Violet exploded.
“For the leader of the Ambition Sect, you’ve grown cowardly in your old age.” Violet was playing with fire, and she knew it. “You’re losing your hold on reality.”
Edmund gulped, Tanguy and Aziel grimaced, and even Remus had to tense.
Brison stomped a foot, a blast of sand, wind, and rocky shrapnel reverberating all around. Remus had to dig hit feet into the ground so as not to be propelled backwards.
“I will not be spoken to this way!”
Remus grabbed Violet’s arm, half-whispering, half-shouting. “This is a Warlord we’re dealing with. Brison is a good man, he’s just been going through a rough patch. Like we all are.”
“I’m a Warlord too Remus.” She pulled her arm away, the motion making Remus’ heart sting. “Don’t doubt my capabilities.”
For a second, Violet and Brison were engaged in a western-style staredown. Aziel, Tanguy, Koa, Octavia, even Veida — each of them shifted slightly where they stood, watching out for the breakout of a brawl.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
Remus could not afford to start a feud against Brison. It would upset everything he’d put into motion. His men didn’t deserve to be dragged into unnecessary battles either. Besides, his brother needed help, and by the sounds of it, desperately.
He walked in front of Violet. “Please Violet. We can’t be doing this.”
She didn’t look away. “He killed Pippin.”
“He’s just scared Violet. Like we all are. Brison is a good person. He welcomed us into the Ambition Sect like family.”
The air trembled with power, with both Brison and Violet ready to open the floodgates with but a flare of their Marks. The question was: who would shoot first?”
Still, Violet said nothing.
“Violet, don’t make me get on my knees and beg. If not for Brison, do this for me.”
That seemed to get through to her. The tension physically faded from the air as Violet dispelled any techniques she had been prepared to unleash. The look she shot Remus was venomous. “You owe me.”
With that, Violet teleported off. A second later, Veida followed in her footsteps. Koa and Octavia took the moment to disperse the rest of the rebellion. Quite frankly, they had seen enough.
For a second, nobody uttered a word. Remus glanced from the empty space where Violet had once been, to the wary visage of Brison. He had never become too close to Pippin, but he appreciated the messenger bird for all it had done for them. Yet, for Violet, the sparrow had meant infinitely more to her. Pippin served as an escape for Violet: an ability to confide in someone who understood her Unbounded dilemma, back when it was still a global secret. Without the ability to report to Veida, things would have been a far harder struggle. For that haven to be destroyed, in a way, represented the end of all that. Now stood by Remus was a version of Violet that was free to be scrutinised by anyone, and everybody that inhabited Descent, with so much as access to the news. Her existence alone was a frequently debated topic in the newspapers. Many saw her better off as dead, and didn’t hesitate to be vocal with that view.
No wonder it had hit her so hard.
Tanguy and Aziel went as rigid as stone. The rebellion alongside them paused in their tracks, perhaps worried they had another battle with a sect leader on their hands.
“It seems like we’ve had a little misunderstanding.” Remus cleared his throat. Things were more complicated than that, but to hell with it. He knew Brison — he was a good man at heart, he had to be. “I hope we can continue this discourse in a civil manner.”
Brison took a deep breath. “Yes, yes. But her words I fear ring true Remus. I’m afraid I’ll become as deranged as Damosh if I don’t get a hold of myself. What has happened to me?”
Nobody answered. Watching Brison hold his head in his hands, it was like seeing one of his idols fall from grace.
“You’re not like Damosh. You’re nothing like that scoundrel.” Remus took a few steps towards Brison. Edmund and a few guards tensed, but made no move to stop him. “My rebellion here, the Talents of the Future, we’re going to put a stop to the turmoil in First Rite if it’s the last thing we do.”
Brison lifted his head. “By what means?”
“By whatever means it takes.”
The Warlord tapped the arm of his chair.
“Tell me Remus, why did you come here? Really?”
Remus clenched a fist, conviction bleeding into each syllable that escaped his mouth. “I want to gather forces, Brison. These are dangerous times. I don’t require your assistance, I’ll be striking down First Rite alone, if that’s what it takes to prevent the city from becoming a bastion of corruption. But your help, or any clansmen that see eye-to-eye with me in this matter, would be welcomed with open arms.”
Aziel walked up gingerly. “If I may, your liege, I do believe Remus will soon attract quite the large attack force. It wouldn’t be too great a risk to allow our men to join.”
Brison considered all this. A great hammer leant against his legs, almost identical to the variety he’d used against the Pet-Keeper during that initial skirmish. Remus had to wonder: was that the encounter the first falling domino in what would be Brison’s undoing? Now his fingers brushed against its handle, as if he was searching for reassurance.
“Show me . . .” Brison said slowly. “Show me that you can make a difference. That you're more bite than bark.”
Remus cocked an eyebrow. “How exactly?”
“Tomorrow, fifty of your best troops will face off against fifty of mine. I suspect that Violet will be fighting, so to level the battlefield, I’ll be participating too. Two Warlords should even things out, leaving the Emblazed and Foot-Soldiers to fight fairly.”
Edmund’s face blanched, and Remus felt the contents of his stomach performing all sorts of intricate dances. Brison fighting against Violet. This would be her chance to see if she really could stand toe-to-toe to a Warlord.
Violet had taken down far greater foes in the past, but that was always with the assistance of those around her. On her own, just how strong was Violet really? Remus’ body squirmed, as if in memory of the beating she’d inflicted upon him.
“A friendly match? Simple competition? Nothing more?” Remus sounded redundant, but he had to make sure.
Brison pursed his lips before answering. “As friendly as a bloodbath can be. As long as no-one dies, or is seriously hurt, I will not intervene with how our soldiers decide to fight.”
His audience with the Warlord promptly ended. Perspiration forming currents down his body, Remus glanced over to Tanguy and Aziel.
The look he gave them was the equivalent of screaming for help, but there was nothing they could do.