Salarus deL’estat was distracted as the waves of monsters broke against the wall of Keepers. He had the presence of mind to do his part, as wind and gravity were well-suited to protecting the healers and ranged combatants that were otherwise at great risk in these types of battles. He didn’t mind his role at all, he considered as a small whirlwind scattered a group of three-legged feline monsters which had managed to leap over the front line of Keepers. Others might see rampant destruction as the only true measure of Awakened, but Sal felt that being entrusted with the safety of so many was a sign of real faith in his abilities.
His distraction was rather from the continued absence of Kade. Of his friend. He still remembered how he’d felt those months ago, when his Master had made one of his exceptionally rare appearances for no other reason than to ask him to protect the controversial newly Awakened inside his Trial. Sal had readily agreed, both because his Master had never asked anything of him before, and also because he wanted to believe he’d have protected anyone that he entered a Trial with. What he hadn’t expected after their first meeting, was for the task not to be onerous.
Kade was odd, extraordinarily so by the standards of Iros, and the man didn’t seem to have any real notion of how odd. There was a desperation in his eyes that Sal hadn’t understood at first, though he now recognized it was an understandable insecurity that Kade seldom spoke of directly. He’d seen it when they’d shaken hands, and even more so as they’d talked during the trial–Kade needed friendship, needed any kind of connection to this world, and when he found one, he held on tight.
Salarus had his own personal discoveries in that Trial and since, having never really embraced camaraderie before. He found that he liked it, and it represented a focus for his path and his goals that he hadn’t even realized he lacked. Fighting next to someone, and prioritizing their safety over your own changed you; it changed the way you think about responsibility and purpose. Besides that, he found that he liked Kade.
After a lifetime of people looking down at the power Sal had dedicated himself to, Kade’s child-like enthusiasm toward Sorcery was infectious. More than once he’d caught the man stopping himself from clapping in wonder at some visually impressive spell or another, and it had given Salarus a new perspective of his own powers. Or perhaps restored an older one? It was easy to forget how one felt upon first encountering such wonders, and somewhere along the way Sal had grown up, and started to see his gifts as nothing but tools to achieve his goals.
Those many nights just sitting and talking with Kade had changed that. Most of their conversations had started the same way, with his friend asking about some institution or another, trying to understand something that everyone else simply knew. But inevitably the conversations would shift, as the man asked the same question: why?
Why do people choose to be Keepers? Why do they pursue power? Why do they compete to be the best at it? Why did Sal want to change peoples’ minds about Sorcery? The problem was that Kade couldn’t yet understand the concepts that lay behind so much of their society, as he seemed incapable of looking at the world in the context of centuries, of millenia.
Children of Korthos almost always chose a path–one way or another–then spent decades following that path, ever so slowly discovering themselves along the way. Some changed their course, but many more didn’t, as boredom the way Kade seemed to understand it simply didn’t exist. No one could live for a million years if they grew weary of repetitive tasks, and no one could farm a field for millenia if they were constantly searching for some kind of deeper meaning. Kade simply couldn’t understand that what people do just isn’t as important as who people are.
The biggest shock was that Sal had found himself infected by those same questions. It was perfectly acceptable to simply be a great Keeper. It was a noble pursuit, and no one would ask why someone would choose a path of power and prestige. No one but Kade…and now Sal. Salarus was only a few decades old, and some would spend ten more just waiting for their Bonds, yet suddenly Sal was distracted with thoughts of why. Why did he care so much what the world thought of Sorcery? Was he truly going to spend his life striving for greatness out of spite?
He found the notion sickened him. He loved Sorcery, he loved the feel and complexity of magic, and he knew that it deserved its place among the greatest Paths. But would he truly let his Legend become that of one who defined himself entirely by the opinions of others? Months ago that path had seemed like one of a brave champion, now it felt small and deserving of pity. Salarus would still be the greatest Sorcerer Iros had ever known, but now he would do it because he loved it, and because he believed the world needed him.
More than ever, Sal understood Kade’s desperate desire for meaning. He was lost, and he was scared. In the same way he sought out friendships he sought out purpose, wanting something–maybe anything–that would make him feel grounded and connected. Salarus occasionally had a frightening thought about who the man would have become if he was found by pillagers instead of Keepers. If he had somehow survived, would he now be sitting next to a murderous thief, asking why they’d both chosen to dedicate their lives to self-interest?
Sal didn’t think it likely, however, as Kade seemed to have some deep need to protect–sometimes. Other times he was like a child, almost clinging to Sal’s side and making jokes to hide his obvious fear. And then there were the moments when Kade was the frightening thing. Salarus couldn’t imagine who the man had been before his mind had been ravaged, and it was the one topic that Kade retreated from whenever it was broached. But Sal had seen things.
It wasn’t just the near-madness that seemed to take him when Kade lost himself in battle; Children of Korthos weren’t so far removed from the Elders they fought that extreme lust for conquest and testing one’s limits was gone entirely. Rather it was the way Kade sometimes stared into the distance, not seeming aware that he was doing it. It was the uncomfortable fact that he always stared in exactly the same direction as Karthas himself. And of course, it was the Chaos that flowed through him.
Salarus didn’t dismiss the terror Kade had experienced when his visual power had revealed the presence of Chaos throughout Karthas. Instead he did what he always did: studied. His family had books and memory shards from all around the world, and Sal had practically lived in their library since he’d Awoken Sorcery, recognizing that study and dedication were the only ways he’d grow. The answer had come surprisingly quickly, as Intuitive Sorcery was already performing a similar function.
While he had no record of other Sorcerers using that specific ability–it being locked behind his Magus Path–there were records of other spellcasters needing to manipulate Chaos with greater precision, and they’d developed similar spells to do so. With some trial and error Sal had managed to augment his own sight, and had rushed over to Kade to share his findings. He amended that plan the moment he’d seen his friend, and the unmistakable flow of Chaos swirling and mixing with mana in his body.
Sal had spent the next several days watching Kade with concern and some suspicion, not willing to bring up what he saw. He considered a number of possibilities, but quickly realized he was ludicrously out of his depth when it came to the phenomena; Sal didn’t know if there was anyone alive who understood how Chaos could not only survive in an Awakened body, but also flow in and out of a Soul Core like mana. After convincing himself that Kade’s behavior was no more odd or nefarious than usual, Sal had given the man space and tried other avenues of investigation.
Then Kade disappeared.
It had been over a month since that happened, and Salarus still wasn’t sure what to do. The Keepers were dismissive, saying that Kade was Edwin’s responsibility, and he would decide what to do when he returned. Sal had even spoken to his distant cousin, but Alara has simply replied that she wasn’t Kade’s babysitter, and if he chose to leave it was beyond the scope of her arrangement with Keeper Edwin. At last Sal was faced with trusting that Kade would return on his own, or going off to look for him on his own, with few clues, and almost certainly missing the excursion he was now a part of. He’d made the logical choice, even if it felt wrong.
A deep voice yelling “Initiate Salarus!” snapped him out of his reverie, and he looked over at High Keeper Bandal. The leader of the Order of the Keepers had been a surprising addition to the journey into the Chaos, further solidifying the unusual importance of this mission. Bandal had only recently taken the position when the previous High Keeper fell into the Trance unexpectedly, and everyone was still getting used to the new style of leadership.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Bandal was tall, though not as tall as Salarus, and completely bald, even lacking eyebrows. His eyes were entirely white, a quirk of some rare ability, and it made for an intimidating appearance. Bandal had enjoyed an exceptional reputation as a triple-Path Quartus, possessing the unusual combination of Warrior, Battlemaster–its advanced counterpart–and Healer. He’d earned his position fighting for centuries on the front lines, empowering those around him.
Some claimed his rise to the position of High Keeper had far more to do with his raw power than it did with this particular aptitude for the role, but none could deny his leadership experience on the battlefield. After deploying Anton to provide some limited support for Sal's charges, he raced over to the High Keeper, who rarely gave direct commands given there were hundreds of Keepers present.
Bandal had earned Sal’s respect simply with his indifference to Sorcery. To Bandal, everyone was either competent, or not, and he cared nothing for the specifics. Arriving at the man’s side, he saw what had drawn the High Keeper’s attention, as yet another Elder was spotted amongst the thousands of smaller monsters all inexplicably marching toward Karthas. This one was vaguely humanoid which often meant a more recent generation, but the mere fact that it deigned to walk alongside lesser beasts suggested it was likely still a low Tier threat, more instinct than sentience.
Bandal didn’t look at Sal when he approached, he simply started speaking. “I have been reminded by the Academy Professors,” he began with obvious annoyance, “that this isn’t only a Keeper mission. Apparently we must also use this existential threat to our survival to test our Initiates.” Salarus said nothing, the man’s mood being abundantly clear. At last the thick-armed man turned to face Sal, his simple gray armor making small creaks as he did so.
“I’ve looked over the Initiates, and your team is the only one I’d risk against an Elder of any power level.” Bandal shook his head in disbelief, “How an Initiate managed to get a full Keeper–even a newly raised one–to join a squad as a subordinate is a mystery to me. That she’s a Valoro only makes this more unusual, and I promise you that if political games interfere with this mission, you’ll face far more than a failed exam.” Sal nodded, but the High Keeper just kept staring at him, so he tried his best to give context.
“Gwendara and her team approached me shortly after losing a training bout at the Academy. They are set on performing Keeper missions in the deep Chaos, where–as you’re far more aware than I–circumstances are rarely as simple as basic training prepares us for. My family has access to enormous resources and information from far beyond Karthas, which Keeper Valoro believes will provide great value to her team.” That was mostly true.
What he’d avoided saying was taboo in the extreme, and he suspected Bandal was even aware of what Sal was talking around. The reality had been that Gwen and Jothus–with a reluctant Ryndal in tow–had sought out Salarus with a very specific request: they wanted him to help them overcome the Flaw. Salarus had been shocked that they’d even been willing to mention it, as merely using that particular name for the phenomena had implications that would infuriate many. By some it was even called the Balance, and there were whispers that to lose it would ultimately bring upon one’s doom.
Sal didn’t believe this, of course, as his Master had helped him break through the Flaw when he was still quite young. He was told then that it was not simply beneficial to someone walking the Sorcerer’s Path, but fundamental. As such, he’d lived almost his entire life without being trapped by the unusual mental block, and thus he couldn’t even truly understand the predicament Gwen’s team was in.
He’d been sympathetic when they’d approached him, of course, as they were nothing if not proud Awakened, with dreams of being the next generation of elites. He’d tried to explain his lack of qualifications, telling them as much as he was allowed–that he was only able to break the Flaw with the help of an expert. He’d shared what he knew of the methods, which largely revolved around two training regimes: being presented with a myriad of stimuli and having to react as quickly as possible, and being presented with the same situation over and over, forcing oneself to react differently each time.
The group has been ecstatic to hear even that, as apparently they’d been unsuccessful in even convincing other Keepers to speak of the Flaw. Sal hadn’t wanted to shatter their newfound hope, but he also had to follow his conscience, and had confessed that he also believed he’d been physically altered somehow, something he couldn’t begin to replicate in another. Shockingly the group hadn’t been deterred, and had nearly begged him to lead them in the exam, hoping the combination of the continuous battling along with following the direction of someone unflawed might help them.
Still Salarus had been hesitant, but then Gwen had asked Joth and Ryn to let them speak privately. “Salarus…Sal, I understand your branch of House deL’estat isn’t interested in politics, and you might not be aware of the scope of what we’re facing.” Sal had listened, trying not to grow bored at the mere mention of politics.
“I’ve heard rumors,” Sal replied, admittedly curious. “They say that more Elders are waking up than unusual. Something more about larger monster hordes, but I felt it prudent to wait until I heard from more reputable sources before growing overly concerned.”
“You can trust that my family is more reputable than any whispers you may have overheard, and for once the rumors aren’t frightening enough. The number of Elders has increased, by more than ten times. And that’s not the worst of it.” She had glanced around to make doubly sure they weren’t overheard. “The Bringers are stretched thin. You heard about the Elder they dragged back to Karthas?” Sal nodded slowly. “They had to bring it back to confirm their fears…it didn’t just wake up, it was in the beginnings of a true Emergence.”
Salarus’ normal calm had shattered at that, as High Priest Lothros’ stories of Alo-yun’s rampage were still fresh in his mind. Not all Elders who Emerged would possess such power, but even a single one presented tremendous danger. “Are you saying these events are all connected?”
“No one can say for sure,” Gwen replied, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “But those in power suspect the worst. The Bringers claim to have prevented two other Emergences from completing, and those are only the Elders close enough for us to have a chance at noticing.” True fear had taken her then, and she’d grabbed Sal’s robes and pulled him close. “You’ve been out there, Sal, you know how many of those monsters are buried beneath our feet, let alone how many are waiting in True Chaos!”
Sal’s mouth had fallen open at the display, and Gwen had shrunk back from him, collecting herself. At last she continued, “We can’t face them like this, Sal. We can’t stand there in neat little rows, throwing energy and hoping for the best. We need to be true warriors, unbound and without Flaw.”
Sal had known then that he couldn’t hold back any help he could offer, not after seeing the proud young Keeper appear powerless for the first time in the years he’d known her. He wasn’t a man to sugarcoat a situation, however, “I’ll do what I can, Gwen. But I can’t promise it will help. It won’t be enough to simply lead you and tell you how to adapt, or how to employ your abilities. I’ll guide you, encourage you, anything I can, but the final step will have to be your own.”
“We can’t ask for anything more,” she replied with a small smile.
Sal still had concerns, “Your companions…you know how I am with people, Gwen. I don’t really know the men, but do they really share your enthusiasm for this course? Jothus has always appeared the consummate Earth-touched, proudly running into any problem head first. As for Ryndal, he didn’t even appear to want to be here.”
“Joth is completely committed. His shame at being shown up by your friend is still fresh, and I think he’d do anything not to have to fear making such a poor showing ever again. Ryn…” She stopped, as if considering the man Sal only ever seemed to see skulking around the halls of the Academy. “The truth is that I think he’s closer to breaking the Flaw than either Joth or I, but he doesn’t share our conviction. All I can promise is that he’ll follow our lead, even if he does brood about it.”
They’d spoken further about coordination and practicalities, and had begun their training that very night. Now, almost two months later, Sal wasn’t sure if they’d made any real progress toward breaking, but he had been surprised to find he enjoyed being part of a team. He felt like he was letting them down somehow by not being able to do more, but Gwen and Joth seemed pleased just to be doing something, and for now that would have to be enough.
Bandal didn’t seem satisfied with Sal’s answer, but he never really appeared satisfied, so Sal simply waited as the man considered his words. “So your family's books are enough to make that group elect you as leader? I smell blackmail, but honestly I don’t have time to care. Gather your team, and join Keeper Selina at the left flank, she’ll be coordinating the strike on the Elder. We’ll see how effective your books are in the field. Dismissed, Initiate.”
Bandal turned back to his small group of attendants, appearing to forget Sal existed the moment he was out of eyeline. Knowing there was no time to waste, he rushed to the Keeper who’d placed him on defense duty, and explained that High Keeper Bandal had ordered him elsewhere. Sal then fed some mana into a small crystal Gwen had provided, then gathered Anton and moved to find Selina.
By the time he spotted the Keeper, Gwen, Joth, and Ryn had joined him, following the call of the crystal. Joth was staring out into the endless monsters, clearly spotting the approaching Edler, and Ryn was characteristically staring off into space, looking disinterested. Gwen spoke for the small group as usual, “New assignment?” she asked, her gaze following Joth’s in suspicion.
Sal nodded with a half-smile. “From High Keeper Bandal himself. Today we hunt an Elder.”