If Remus were to recount to you what filled his days as he journeyed to Territory Six, he would fall asleep right before recounting his twentieth hunting session, which was no more exciting than the nineteenth — or the last eighteen prior.
He and Violet, as they strolled past the Reptilian Sect’s swampy lands over the course of a few Durations, arrived at the Tempest Territory with all the eagerness of a corpse sauntering into his own funeral service.
It had been almost a Passing of pure boredom, devoid of any event of even the slightest interest. Well, except for perhaps the time Pippin had arrived, one sultry morning, a letter clutched in his talons.
Violet held onto that letter even now, as swamp was abandoned for flatland. The scrunched parchment was held tightly in one of her balled fists, and Remus looked onto the scene of her grasping it with quiet despair. Hadrian’s message had been brief, sparse even, and a simple apology on behalf of the wider sect for Veida’s behaviour.
Two lines, and that was the extent of it. Violet’s stoic face was unreadable, each and every time the message was the topic of conversation, but Remus got the distinct impression she wasn’t coping well. The whole situation was unjust, disgustingly so. And still, with entire Durations of thinking time, neither of them had gotten to the bottom of what had truly occurred. What had sparked Veida’s seemingly nonsensical meltdown would, for now, continue to elude them.
“It’ll be around here.” Violet spoke, staring out into an abyss of empty air.
“What will?”
She groaned. “Remus, what have we been chasing for the last Passing?”
Remus wanted to punch himself. “Styrmir, right. An Unbounded of the giant variety, with reported control over the air currents. . . Something fitting that description shouldn’t be too hard to find, at least in theory.”
Even on the very edges of the territory, Remus could see how the Tempest Sect had moulded the territory to their liking. Step out there, and you might not need wings to fly. The very air currents, gushing with a force keen to tug the organs out of you, was a natural deathtrap if one wasn’t careful, serving as a barrier for any enemy territories wishing to extend their land.
Suffice to say, they had their work cut out for them, devising a way to traverse through an environment that was untraversable.
“How do we find him?” Remus asked, upon which Violet lifted her finger promptly skywards.
Remus followed the length of her arm, gasping.
Up above, blending into the murky blues and whites of the sky so perfectly, Remus hadn’t paid it any mind, lay a town of clouds. Buildings forged of wispy, semi-solid cushion stretched out across the azure horizon, and what only boggled his mind further, was the fact that breathing, talking people walked amongst it. Some of them fluttering about the place via wings. Living out their lives in an orderly fashion, as if a village in the middle of the sky was business as usual. Birds flocked around the entire territory’s sky in absurd numbers, which Remus knew could not have been possible without some sort of godly meddling.
“We need to ask around for Styrmir’s last seen location. Up there is our best shot, but it's risky. The Tempest Sect might not be as welcoming as the Flame Sect . . .” She cringed. “. . . were previously. And then there’s the question of how we’ll introduce ourselves, or even get up there in the first place. ”
Remus narrowed his eyes into the far distance, below the pearly fortress. Tiny, oblong dots loitered there, presumably people seeking entry into the sanctuary of clouds.
“Down there looks like a start.”
Violet nodded. “Keep a low profile. We should scope out the area first, and see how aggressive the folk appear.”
Their plan of action settled, the two advanced forwards in silent strides. All the while, Remus couldn’t help but give the airborne town suspicious looks, as if certain the living miracle would collapse any second now, under the sheer weight of its impossibility. Something this grand could not have feasibly been from a portion of one sect, no matter how intensely they worked. Creating clouds and sprouting the bird-like wings Remus had witnessed earlier sounded like too much of a stretch to fit under the umbrella of ‘Tempest’ — likely, you could still get away with flying, but there were very obviously some other factors in play here.
Namely, other clans.
“The god of clouds, who is he?”
“Mazin, or something like that.” Violet replied, the settlement now nearly directly above their heads. “It's probable that his clan was paid handsome sums to construct this base, or maybe some of them might have even lived here once. Sounds likely that a few would remain to sustain the structure’s balance. Wouldn’t do much good for the entire place to come crashing down, or to disperse into the wind.”
A terrifying possibility occurred to Remus. It was unlikely, but horrifying enough to contort his face in disgust. “If the Cloud Clan wanted to, they could send an entire base of an opposing sect crashing down.”
“Theoretically,” Violet allowed, “but that’s if you make a lot of assumptions. They probably formed a sect-wide oath promising not to pull any shenanigans, or have motives not to. Multiple clans coexisting together means extra protection, and in areas not covered by Divine Ground such as these territories, that could make all the difference.”
At last, they arrived so close to the looming town that its shadow was a visible line in the ground ahead of them. Past it, Remus’s mouth opened in awe, as he observed a winged individual, shooting up and out of the foamy material above.
“And wing-bearing clansmen,” Remus muttered, “surely people of the Bird god, Avel?”
“Before he abandoned the Animalistic Accord for the Empyrean Alliance, the Bird Sect probably held a strong populace here. Now, there’s just the lingering few who took a liking to the place.”
Remus listened to all this raptly, eyes baring into the carpet of white above him. It took Violent tugging on his arm for him to tear his eyes off it. “Huh? What is it?
“Over there,” Violet answered, “notice the trail of destruction?”
Angling himself to face where she was pointing, Remus saw a collection of ordinary carriages — except they had all been forcibly disassembled; likely via the direct means of bashing fists. The breeze of the wind was noticeably stronger from this direction too, with the hair that had regrown upon Remus over the last Passing and some flickering upwards to expose his forehead.
“Annnnd there’s our lead.”
Violet nodded morosely. “Looks like we have to head deeper in. We might as well be walking into the heart of a tornado.”
“The heart of a tornado with a rampant giant in the centre of it.” Remus added. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”
Abandoning the sky fortress for a moment, the two passed the short distance over to the wreckage. Immediately, among the wooden shrapnel and punctured wheels, the sound of voices sent them ducking.
“We don’t get paid enough for clearing that devil’s messes,” an aggrieved presence complained, “surely the sect can afford to deal with one Unbounded? He might be a Foot-Soldier equivalent, but we have more than enough soldiers of our own that could easily make short work of the speed-demon. Only care for themselves up there, I’m telling you.”
Remus inwardly snorted. If he were to ever visit First Rite . . .
“Well what can you do?” There was the sound of grunting paired with a series of heavy footsteps, before something was lumped down. Hands being dusted down were indicated via a resounding clap. “Look on the bright side — we never have to worry about being out of work. Every morning that blue blur rushes out here to cause a little mayhem, and we get to profit from it. It's a nice ordeal we’ve got going on, us and that Styrmir.”
“You and your baseless optimism,” the other scoffed, “let’s just get this over with. And stop talking like we’re business partners with that thing; it's sickening.”
Sensing that there would be no more info-rich discussion to eavesdrop on, Remus and Violet rushed out of the scene, before they could do so much as ruffle a feather.
Once of a sufficiently safe distance, Remus spoke, “so we can expect for Styrmir to appear in the early hours, somewhere around these parts.”
Violet nodded, her face furrowed in concentration. “Now we know how to get in contact with the giant. Our problem lies with how we’ll kill it.”
It went without saying that the primary issue with killing the Unbounded would be its rumoured speed. Violet had reported her struggle with a rogue tarlord separated from the bulk of its family Durations prior. It had been of the same power as Styrmir would be, and Violet had only scrapped by in that conflict, and would have certainly perished, if not for Hadrian’s last minute assistance. Even with Remus’ help, an Engorged and mid-level Emblazed could only do so much. By competence in battle alone, they would never prevail.
They needed some trick; some ace in the hole to increase their chances of victory. The difficulty was in working out what exactly that would be.
“If we’re staking out the area for the night, we should find somewhere nearby to stay,” Remus found himself saying something smart for once, “somewhere nondescript enough not to draw attention, before we can assess the clan’s attitudes towards newcomers.”
“They should have no problem with us trying to eliminate one of the thorns in their side, but you never know.” Violet said, assessing their environment. “If I had any other requirements, some cover from the breeze would be favourable.”
Remus kept this in mind, joining in as Violet did a full three-sixty around them. Within seconds, an idea occurred to him. It both tore up newfound trauma, and sent a giddy rush of excitement through him in an odd mixture of emotion. “We could scout out a cave, or some depression somewhere.”
“That would work, but I doubt if the land formation around here is any more interesting than the straight plain we’ve seen. Never before have I had a problem with terrain being too flat . . .”
“The hills near the outskirts of here have some discrete areas, before the ground fully levels out. It won’t be as efficient a shield as a cave, but the mounds could bear the brunt of the wind for us.”
Violet agreed with this, and Remus found himself moving towards the cluster of inclines without commanding his feet.
“Violet, do Unbounded require anything to continue living? Like how we need food, water and sleep?”
It might have been a question with an obvious answer, but Violet didn’t make fun of him. “All they require is a steady supply of Infinity to sustain their forms. It doesn’t have to be much, just a few animals killed here and there would be enough.”
“What would happen if they didn’t get that supply of Infinity? I don’t imagine they instantly implode.”
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A high laugh escaped her at the thought. “No. Like humans when starving, they start to use up the nutrients they have on them — as our bodies drain away at our fat reserves, their Infinity starts to dwindle, until there’s nothing left.”
Remus halted, frowning. “So they basically eat themselves to death?”
Another chuckle. “In a sense.”
Unpacking his supplies and putting up a flimsy hammock, Remus thought. “Is there any chance-” he stopped himself. “Forget it.”
“What?” Violet turned a head towards him, finishing up her own nook of the area. “Say it.”
“Could we starve Styrmir? And then kill their weakened form?”
The girl put a hand to her chin, eyes in distant deliberation. “Theoretically. But it won’t be that simple. The giant’s known for his speed, so trapping him anywhere won’t be easy.”
“We could lure him.”
“With what? And to where? We would need an enclosed space, somewhere shut off at all angles. In this prairie-”
“That would be very difficult to find indeed.”
Remus swallowed before the unfamiliar voice even hit his ears, the feeling of sharp steel across his throat not a comfort.
Violet jolted to her feet, pebbles hovering off the ground ahead of her in preparation to be thrown, with a little magical assistance.
“I wouldn’t recommend moving.” A woman spoke, voice oddly sweet for someone on the verge of splitting his voice box open. “It's quite windy around these parts, I wouldn’t want my hand to slip.”
Grudgingly, Violet removed her hold on the pebbles, but that expression of eagerness to throw a punch never faded. “What do you want?”
“A lot of things: a cup of tea, a few books, and . . . oh! To know what exactly you two are doing creeping around. You must admit, it's quite suspicious, no?”
Violet’s teeth gritted in a violent visage. If she wanted to assure the newcomer of her innocence, she wasn’t doing a brilliant job of it in the looks department. “We’re just passing through. We mean you no harm.”
“Sneaking up on my fellow clansmen certainly appears to be out of malicious intentions.” Above the frantic thumping of his heart, Remus heard the weapon shift against him. “We’re not on Divine Ground, and you two are likely sabotaging the Cloud Sect. Explain to me right now why I shouldn’t make short work of your companion.”
“She’s . . . telling . . . the truth.” Remus spluttered.
The clanswoman ignored him entirely.
“We’re trying to kill an Unbounded around here.” Violet evidently decided to tell the truth. “The giant Styrmir. We weren’t sure whether your sect took kindly to foreigners, so we didn’t show our faces. We were just trying to gather information — I can swear an oath upon it.”
Interest sank into his captor’s voice. “What are you, bounty hunters?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
She tsked. “Maybe we can sit down and have a nice chat about it, though that will be substantially harder with you holding a dagger across his throat.”
After a moment of consideration, Remus was let go. Rubbing against the sore spot of his throat, he angled his head downwards, concealing the flush of colour gathering in his cheeks. Remus had never been so humiliated, but even that saying in itself had been worn out with use.
How much stronger do I have to grow, before I stop being treated like extra weight?
He couldn’t agonise over his embarrassment for too long however, as both women swiftly picked the conversation back up.
“For now, I’ll take your word as truth, though your offer of making an oath is one I’ll keep in mind.”
Now that he was free from her clutches, Remus could face his captor in all her contained ferocity. She was a blonde woman, her hair set in a tight ponytail at the back, and her overall stature was fairly shorter than most. A guard’s light armour sat comfortably upon her, the silver shade of it a sharp contrast to the jet black of her eyes. Her features were altogether angular, with her face ending in a sharp point — reminding Remus of a certain object held against him not a minute prior. Sheathed, but ready to be drawn at any time, was a dagger. Remus’s attention couldn’t help but be brought to the longer rapier placed just above it. Obviously, this woman was no laughing matter.
This was a fact cemented from the Mark streaking across her face. Beginning from her forehead down to her right-hand side, was a blur of colour. It illustrated Erjon, the Tempest god summoning what must have been a continent's worth of wind. All in an attempt to quell the anger of a bundle of red at the Mark’s end. None other than the deity of Fury, Lorcan.
She examined the pair of them with inquisitive, drawn-out stares. “If you’re not bounty hunters, what cause do you have to strike up a fight with Styrmir?”
Remus exhaled. Oh boy, this was going to take a while. He took the courtesy of explaining matters to her in a simplified manner. The gist of the Trials of the Earnest, and Remus’ involvement with them. He left out several details, which may or may not have included the dubious states of their criminal records.
Despite how far-fetched it all sounded — even to Remus’ own ears, the words he spoke seemed to match the insanity of a children’s fable — the woman appeared to relax. “Interesting. Very interesting.”
She seemed to mull something over in her head, and Remus inwardly prayed that word of their history hadn’t spread this far out. That was part of the reason they had skirted around the Amphibian and Reptile Clans in Territory Seven. That seemed to have been the direction Elmore and his crew had crossed from, and it was more likely than not that Remus and Violet would have surfaced in conversation.
“You told me about the first and second trials, but what’s the third?” The woman asked, at a constant pace around the enclosure. “Do tell — I love a good story.”
“He has to locate the Ambition Sect, In the hidden depths of the Shifting.” Violet answered for him, the mere thought of having to eventually tackle the task exhausting her.
Once more, the woman took a second to think. “You would be doing our sect a great deal of help with getting rid of Styrmir. That in itself would merit an award. If you show us evidence of killing the beast, I might be tempted to fly one of you up to the peak of the Sky Fortress.”
Remus didn’t see how this correlated to anything they had been discussing. Until her next words.
“From up there, you’ll have a bird’s-eye-view of the entirety of Hybrid; including the Shifting. If you don’t spot the Ambition Sect from up there, it likely doesn’t exist. But don’t get this twisted, you’ll still have to take down the wind giant yourselves. As always, work drains away most of the hours in my day, and I’m not spending the little free time I get running around trying to catch a fleeting breeze.”
“We understand.” Violet interjected, her fatigue wavering in the face of a chance to accelerate the rest of their journey.
“You better.” The guard stretched, staring longingly into the distance. “Until you show me evidence of Styrmir's death, I’ll be keeping my eyes on the both of you. Your names?”
The pair of them gulped simultaneously. Two words, and their interrogator's memory might just be jogged into recalling the rumour of two fleeing fugitives. And then the future wouldn’t be quite so bright and shiny. The instinct to lie occurred to Remus, in a sudden desperate appeal, but she’d treated them both well, considering their admittedly suspicious arrival. Regardless of whether it was a logical move or not, Remus ultimately took the risk.
“I'm Remus.”
Violet’s face suited a vexed, firm narrowing of the features for but a millisecond, before once more retaining a placid exterior. “Violet.”
She nodded. “I go by Iris.” Her back turned, the winds seeming to circle around her in a mini cyclone of pressure. “I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t make me regret this decision.”
With that, and a burst of speed, she was gone. Zooming through the air in a show that put the wing-bearing followers of Avel to shame.
After a minute’s pensive silence — on the off-chance Iris was lingering nearby, watching — Both Violet and Remus let go of their held breaths. Remus sank to the floor, taking a much needed sip from his waterskin. It was the only piece of the supplies from Hadrian that had survived the Passing’s journey; even the sickle had been chipped one too many times against a hard-shelled Unbounded, and promptly discarded.
“Now we really have to defeat Styrmir, or we’re screwed.” Violet spoke up, cheerful as ever.
“Tomorrow morning we have to be up and ready to kill that bastard.” Remus found his hands unveiling a piece of parchment out of their own volition. “Tonight, we plan.”
On the eve of the second trial, the two got to work.
----------------------------------------
“Are you certain it was in this direction?” Elmore questioned for the thousandth time, squinting through the swamps of Territory Seven.
“How can I be?” Koa rehearsed the endless exchange, that his cousin seemed dead-set on replaying every few hours. “Violet warped me into the middle of nowhere. But I have a hunch of the general direction they departed in.”
Elmore swivelled on his feet, dank water splattering at his heels. “You’re really leading us right through the territory we just passed through on a whim? A guess?”
“What do you say we do then, hmm?” Koa felt his temper hottening, but made no attempt to settle it. “Sit down and let this opportunity slip through our hands? Damn, I’m starting to sound like you now!”
“At least you’re self-aware.” A deflated Ash trudged at their backs, knowing at this point not to complain about the endless journey.
Both of them grumbling under their breaths, the argument was dropped. It had taken Elmore and Ash hours to locate Koa once he had gone missing, and even longer after that to stop throwing an endless array of jabs and complaints his way. The encounter had been so embarrassing, Koa could hardly concentrate on his own training. His leaves would explode in an eruption of pollen, or fly wildly into the nearest blunt object. Koa could sense that he was on the verge of advancing to Emblazed — it was teetering on the very tip of his being. But every time he activated his Mark, the visage of all those corrupt trees, that had been plastered into his skin at birth, would evade his every will and command.
Just for once, a little of his brother’s endless talent would’ve been handy. It seemed to Koa like that would resolve his every issue in life.
Except perhaps, for the constant aura of gloom his cousin projected, which was not helping to lighten the already dire mood. Not in the slightest. Ever since his miracle child of a brother had attained his vision, cementing himself as on equal footing with Elmore, the man had dove far deeper into the darker aspects of himself. As if casting his typical passive personality into shadows, only to pull it back out again, all the joy diminished in the face of a growing tide of discontent.
As the group came to an abrupt stop, Koa couldn’t help but notice the newly-acquired lines engraved into his cousin’s face. They spoke of a sombre dwelling behind the guise of his stoicism; of a magnitude of emotion etching each and every early wrinkle.
It took him a while to tear his eyes off Elmore, to see what had spawned such alarm in his eyes.
“Who are you?” Elmore rasped, hands pressing against his belt. All it would take was one swift action, and a line of throwing knives would be at his fingertips.
Koa held no weapon of his own aside from a simple cutting knife — on occasions, he was known for wielding a bow and arrow, but he didn’t exactly have the time to go rummaging through his bags.
The woman ahead of the three of them was deceptively young, for the empty glint in her eyes spoke of knowledge beyond her years. She stood as rigid as a plank of wood, the embers where her irises should have been passing over each of them. In the same examinary fashion a hawk would eye its prey. Her hair was styled neatly in curls of hazel, and upon her, sported in an eerily pristine fashion, was a set of chainmail light armour that would not have looked amiss on a knight of legend.
Koa found himself thinking that she looked awfully like . . . awfully like . . . Violet.
Elmore caught on far quicker than he had. “Seize her!”
In a blinding flash where, in a stark surprise, both Ash and Koa worked in unison for one hasty second, branches tore themselves forth from the nearest trees. With unnatural, contorted branches of horrifying size, the space the woman had just been occupying was promptly attacked. A bewildering realisation it was for them all, seeing it empty before the puppeteered wood could deal any damage.
Elmore had rushed forth, nothing but void air grasped in his flinging hands.
“Enough of this.” A strangely plain voice spoke, devoid of any particular inflection. “I’m not my sister.”
The sound came from above, and the three of them turned upwards in one shared instance of panic. She had moved so quickly . . . too quickly for an apparent Emblazed — that was Violet’s reported Rank, at least according to the little background info Elmore had been granted. So Koa dropped his suspicions for a moment. It wouldn’t be too daring to take her word as truth, for the time being.
“What do you want? This is Wild Sect business, and I will not be having you jeopardising our mission in any form.” At her silence, Elmore revealed a tiny blade, a few inches length at most. “Answer me!”
“I’m here to achieve precisely the opposite,” she dropped down, with all the implicit grace of a feline, “Nova is not happy with how slowly you’re progressing. He requested for me to quicken affairs. We can’t have one of our own running rampant without punishment, you see.”
Elmore looked as if he had just been slapped. “You have no right to involve yourselves, this i-” He stuttered, eyes widening. “Unless-”
A knowing smile materialised on her lips. “We are perfectly in our right. Violet is of the Chao Clan’s blood, and if we see it fit to deal with her ourselves, we can do just that. There’s no point in dwelling on it now, Elmore. There’s nothing you can do to refuse my assistance.”
Koa observed quietly as Elmore fought back his sinister inclinations. He levelled his head, eyes closed, angled towards the ground as his lips tightened.
“Our relationship will only last as long as the mission, but for now, you may refer to me as Verity.”
“But why?” Koa didn’t fight back the urge to ask, sensing something underlying beyond Verity’s nondescript front. “What reason do you have for coming out here?”
Verity set her crimson glare upon him, and Koa found himself growing tremulous under its forceless leer. “First and foremost, to serve my father, and the wider Chaos Clan. Secondly . . .” She stalled.
“Secondly?”
Verity’s head shot back to face him, eyes dilated in pensive anticipation. “Violet is going to die by the end of this Passing, and mark my words, it will be by no other hands than these.”