by Aaron Oster
“It seems that we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Kaeru said, striding up to the prone figures. “We’re not here to fight or conquer your lands or whatever silly thing you people seem to think we’ve come here to do. All we want is to find our friends and leave. If you cooperate, I might even forgive you for trying to kill us. So,” he asked, crouching and pulling a filthy man’s head up by his hair, “do we have a deal?”
The man — a 3rd Dan Orange-Belt who was nearly unconscious from the pressure of Violet’s Core — nodded quickly, his eyes starting to roll up into his head.
“Excellent,” Kaeru said, his voice full of good cheer as he motioned to Violet to restrict her power so the people would be conscious to answer his questions.
Kaeru grilled the cowering fighters over the next few minutes, getting every little bit of information out of them. Apparently, these people had been displaced from their villages by some sort of monster and were looking for a new home. A massive storm had ravaged a large section of land as well, killing many of the survivors.
After some more questioning, he discovered that the monster was a dragon, one making its way deeper into the Weeping Darklands.
When he asked about Roy and Aika, he got nothing. These people hadn’t seen any strangers from the outside, nor had they heard any mention of them.
He did get some interesting information on the Weeping Darklands themselves. Mainly that time here passed far faster than it did in the rest of Safaia. Unfortunately, none of the people knew why that was, nor why no other powerful Martial Artists had come here to train. When he was finally done questioning them, he sent the trembling Martial Artists on their way. They were all too happy to run and disappeared so quickly that Kaeru was left to wonder if they’d even been trying with that initial charge of theirs.
“It seems that they left out a few key details about this place,” Violet said as she watched the fleeing backs of the attackers.
“So it would seem,” Kaeru said. “I’m sure there’s a reason why this place is what it is. I’ll make sure to get an answer when I speak with Duncan or Hermit. One thing is for sure, though. This place would make for some excellent training grounds for the both of us.”
Violet smiled at that, though it didn’t last long, her lips turning down in a frown.
“What will we do about Roy and Aika? We have no idea where they went.”
“They probably went after that dragon,” Kaeru said with a grin. “I don’t know why they’re here in the first place, but judging by the story those people told, it seems like the kind of thing they would do, don’t you think?”
“I guess,” Violet said. “Then again, I don’t actually know them that well.”
“Well, think of it this way,” Kaeru said, starting to head down the path again. “There’s only one way they could have traveled if they’re heading deeper into the Darklands.”
“I guess you have a good point,” Violet said, hurrying to catch up and snagging his hand on her own this time.
Thunder rumbled overhead before Kaeru could reply, and a moment later, the skies seemed to open wide as they dumped buckets of water down on their heads. Kaeru didn’t much mind the water, but Violet was a different story. It was barely a challenge at all for him to exert his will and extend it over them both, repelling the rain and keeping it from soaking her to the bone.
“Thanks,” Violet said, giving him a smile and looking up to where the rain stopped, just inches from her face before sliding off an invisible barrier.
“It’s only a little difficult,” Kaeru joked.
He wasn’t lying either. He’d never seen anyone so blatantly control the physical element of their main Paths like this. Sure, Earth Artists could shape the ground and Fire Artists could blast fire, but when it came to the physical manifestation of the Path itself, an Earth Artist couldn’t simply will a mountain out of their way.
They could carve through it using their techniques, but actually shifting the rock required some technique to be used, similarly with Fire or Wind Artists. They could use techniques on their Paths, but a Wind Artist couldn’t repel a tornado with a thought, just as a Fire Artist couldn’t stop an inferno.
They did have resistance to their own Paths, but extending that resistance to others? That was something he’d never seen either.
It was clear that Violet didn’t think it was such a big deal, as she just squeezed his hand a little harder and continued walking by his side, just happy to be dry. Only then did Kaeru remember that Violet had been raised in a clan of powerful Martial Artists.
“You don’t seem surprised at all that I can keep the rain away,” he commented, wondering if the statement would come off as strange.
“Of course not,” Violet said. “All Sages have at least some control over the element of their Path.”
“Sages?” Kaeru asked.
He’d heard the term before but had just assumed it was another stage of advancement. He was a Supreme, a title given to a Martial Artist who’d managed to master all of the techniques using Chakra and learned a Conqueror technique. Were all Gold-Belts called Sages? He wasn’t entirely sure, as none of the others he’d come across had referred to themselves as such.
Violet paused, stopping in her tacks and turning to look at him appraisingly, as though trying to see if he were pulling her leg. After a few moments, when it was clear he wasn’t, she just shook her head in pure amazement.
“People really are ignorant where you come from, aren’t they?” she said, sounding almost exasperated. “A Sage is a title given to a Martial Artist who reaches Gold-Belt and is given an Imprint by the Spirit of their Path. If you know where to look, it’s easy to see.”
Kaeru thought it over for a long moment, remembering the odd sensations he’d been feeling from his Core ever since his advancement to Gold. Still, he was almost certain he’d have noticed any great changes to himself. Controlling the rain itself without having to tap into his Core to do so was quite a new development. All this required was an effort of will.
“So, are you saying that I’ve somehow become a Sage without realizing it?” Kaeru asked. “I can’t feel this Imprint you’re talking about.”
Violet’s brows furrowed for a moment, and then, with a start, her eyebrows shot up.
“You’re right,” she said, looking up to where the water cascaded around them. “You’re not a Sage. At least not yet.”
Then, she grew excited, in the way she did whenever they started talking about the Martial Arts and how they functioned at higher levels.
“I can’t sense an Imprint yet, but the fact that you have conscious control over the element of your Path tells me that you’ve at least passed the second stage. As far as I know, there are four. The first is being a Gold-Belt, obviously, the third is being able to pull the element into yourself in solid form, and the last is the ability to control the element in other Martial Artists on the same Path…”
Kaeru listened in rapt attention as Violet began speaking more and more animatedly, glad that he was getting answers to his own questions and happy that she was starting to come back to herself. He’d been worried that after all they’d been through, she would never be the same, but she was strong.
Violet would make a full recovery, he was now sure of that. And seeing as how Hermit and Duncan now had very real enemies, ones who would likely send people after Roy to try and get leverage over them, she would need to be in tip-top fighting shape.
He was apparently growing, half of the way to becoming a Sage. By the way Violet was talking about them, it was something he would very much wish to pursue, especially if his own goals of discovering who triggered the war between his and the Beast clans were to come to fruition.
Despite his reasons for being out here with Violet, it was important to remind himself of his own Ideal. He would discover the mastermind behind the plot to destroy him and his clan, no matter how long it took.
21
The door closed behind Ikari as she ent
ered the small underground room, barely making so much as a whisper as it slid along silent tracks. The room itself was bare, completely unremarkable in every way. She stepped further in, reaching out and snagging an invisible substance and tracing the tips of her fingers along until she found the seam.
With a light tug, the invisible barrier parted to reveal a small hatch, built of heavy steel, sitting on the floor before her. She stepped through the barrier, allowing it to close behind her before reaching down to grab the latch. With a flare of her Reiki, invisible scripts lit up and the hatch rose with a light hiss.
A tight, spiraling staircase came into view as she rose, and without a backward glance, Ikari stepped down, closing the hatch behind her.
The staircase descended for a good hundred feet, moving deeper and deeper down. Had she been claustrophobic, the bare stone walls to either side might have made her nervous. But Ikari had faced far more terrifying opponents than a tight space in her lifetime. She was glad to reach the bottom set of stairs, where a short landing area showed seven doors that sat evenly spaced in the rounded room.
Ikari immediately chose the first door, placing her palm flat on it and allowing a pulse of her Chakra to pass through. A long corridor greeted her, stretching to the opposite end where another door lay.
About a third of the way down, she paused, placing her hand on a seemingly bare patch of wall and allowing a pulse of Qi to flow into invisible scripts. A circular section of wall slid aside, revealing a short staircase and yet another door.
The door opened with little trouble to reveal another empty room. Ikari’s knees flexed as she jumped, her fingers digging into carefully disguised finger holes. A pulse of her Essence caused the section she held onto to slide forward, and with a small flex of her arm, she swung herself up and into the space above, landing lithely on her feet.
As the ceiling hissed closed beneath her, Ikari smoothed the front of her robes, reached up to assure her sleek black hair was perfect and smooth, then walked down the short hallway to the sliding wood-paneled door sitting there.
“Were you followed?” was the first question that greeted her as she entered the small, lavishly decorated room.
“Yes,” Ikari said sarcastically. “I have my brother, the Herald bastard, and an entire army waiting right outside. Should I invite them in?”
“There’s no need to be hostile,” Inu Pelata said, his rumbling voice sounding a bit agitated. “We’re all on the same side here.
Ikari looked between her coconspirators, the only two Sovereigns she knew were on her side, and let out an annoyed huff before walking over to sink into her designated spot.
“Why are we down here this time?” she asked, directing this question at the woman who’d asked the initial question.
Sora Ame looked as out of place as always, her massive stature towering nearly as tall as Pelata’s seven-foot frame and nearly as broad. Her muscled arms were bare and crossed beneath a chest that looked more like a man’s than anything else. Her brown hair was cut short and choppy and framed her strong jaw and downturned lips.
In fact, of the three of them, Ikari was the only one who wouldn’t be considered a massive brute by the other Sovereigns. Yet somehow, Sora Ame had ended up in charge of this little group — likely due to her rank as an 8th Dan Gray-Belt more than anything else. Still, the fact that she was stuck at the beck and call of this overgrown pile of muscle aggravated her to no end.
“Because,” Ame said, still seeming aggravated at Ikari’s earlier response, “one of my spies told me they’d overheard something interesting.”
“And that would be?” Ikari asked with a raised eyebrow. “You do know how hard it is to slip away with my interfering brother always looking over my shoulder, right? This better be good enough to warrant my trouble.”
Ame opened her mouth to snap back, but Pelata got between the two of them before she could.
“Enough,” he said, his deep voice all but booming in the small room. “We are here because we have a mutual enemy. We aren’t here to fight one another. Do not forget your reasons for taking this sort of risk. Do not forget who we are truly fighting against.”
Both Ikari and Ame snapped their mouths shut, sitting back and crossing their arms.
Ikari would never forget why she was doing this. Her bastard of a brother had just shown back up one day, believing himself to be superior because he’d changed his name. He’d then stolen the Core of a Cavern Beast, preventing her from breaking past the barrier of 5th Dan Gray. She’d been stuck at this level for quite some time now, and no matter how she pushed, her foundation refused to support any more weight.
She’d reached the end of her Path, and her bastard of a brother had stolen a golden opportunity to strengthen herself. The Core of a Cavern Beast was, by its very nature, chaotic. It therefore had the ability to bestow power to all previous levels, despite the impossibility of it. After that, her brother had the nerve to kill all of the powerful fighters she’d sent after him, steal one of her most promising prodigies, and then declare himself to be on the side of Herald Duncan, the single most hated enemy of the Itachi clan.
Inu Pelata had suffered as well, losing both his daughter and his Sage to the alliance of her brother and Herald Duncan. Ikari had never had children, as she hadn’t found a match suitable enough for her grandeur, but she could understand his drive to get revenge.
Sora Ame was the only real mystery here. Her pride had been damaged when she’d been forced to bow to her brother and Duncan, but she hadn’t actually lost anything. It was why, when they’d discussed whom to invite, Kuren Nami and Mizumi Tokei were unincluded from their little group. They all agreed that they would turn on them in order to gain favor with either Duncan or Hermit.
After all, anyone with half a brain and a little ambition would side with a pair of Scions over a bunch of scheming Sovereigns any day.
The three of them allowed the silence to stretch for a few minutes more, all reaffirming their reasons for being down here. It was as secure a place as Pelata could find, deep beneath the ground in an abandoned Inu outpost on the edges of the Windblight. All of the levels of security would do little if one of the Scions came, but it would give them ample opportunity to run away.
This space was designed to hide everything, their voices, scents, Cores, even their very presences, all but wiping them from existence as far as the outside world was concerned. It was the perfect place to plan and plot. It seemed that Ame had a good reason to be here, after all, seeing as she remained silent for only a few minutes instead of a few hours — which she’d done before just to spite Ikari.
“I know where Duncan’s son has run off to,” Ame said, a cruel smirk twisting the corners of her lips.
Both Ikari and Pelata sat up straighter at this, their attention truly piqued. They both knew about Duncan’s son, having watched him battle against Komura the Winged and hearing the story of his youth from the Scion himself. They’d sent him off to parts unknown and he’d been missing ever since.
“Where?” Pelata asked, his jaw muscles knotting as he clenched his teeth.
“In the Weeping Darklands,” Ame said, seeming supremely pleased with herself.
“Great,” Ikari muttered. “Of course he would be in the one place we can’t go ourselves. Nor can we sense his exact location or send someone right to it. Of course Duncan would send them there.”
“What about his adopted daughter?” Pelata asked. “Have we reconsidered that?”
“The girl is too well protected,” Ame said with a dismissive wave. “There’s no way we’d get to her before Duncan felt us coming, and unless you two like your chances against a Scion, I’m not willing to risk it.”
“How do we kill the boy if we can’t reach him directly then?” Ikari asked.
“We don’t want to kill him,” Ame said.
“I will have justice for the death of my daughter,” Pelata said, his voice tight with rage. “I will make Herald Duncan feel the same agonizing
pain of losing a child!”
“If we want to break away from the two of them, we’re going to need him alive,” Ame said, sounding almost exasperated. “If we just kill him, we have no leverage. Plus, how long do you think it’ll take Duncan and Hermit to find out it was us who killed the boy? Then we’ll just be dead, and our goals and ambitions will die along with us.”
“If we capture the boy, how can we expect to remain alive once we tell him?” Pelata asked. “I say we kill him and get the satisfaction of shoving his corpse in their faces.”
“We capture him in the Darklands,” Ame said with a sigh. “If it’ll make you happy, we can chop off one of his legs or something and bring it back as a souvenir. You can show it to the two bastards who are holding our clans hostage. Once we have their attention, we can negotiate. They won’t dare try going behind our backs to try and save him because we can call in a kill command long before they make it to his position.
“Remember, they will be just as unable to teleport straight into the Darklands as we are. Additionally, their presence in the area will be far more noticeable than ours. They might think they outsmarted us by sending him there, but in reality, they just put him out of their own reach. If they were smart, they’d have kept them close, like Duncan is doing with his new daughter. Instead, Roy was sent away to a place where he’d vulnerable.”
“And how do you propose to capture him?” Ikari asked. “You might not have been there to see it, but Duncan’s kid is a monster. He went toe to toe with a Scion and lived. How many of you can say the same?”
“Please,” Ame said, waving a dismissive hand.
“I agree with Ikari,” Pelata said grimly. “I was there. I saw it. I heard the story Duncan himself told me. His son is a monster. We cannot underestimate him.”
Ame looked between the two of them sourly before letting out a long breath.
“How strong can we assume he is then?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back again.