She wrapped her arms around him. Holding tight, the squeezed cultivator sighed loudly and did the same, tapping her on the back. “Yes, yes I know. I was trying to live in the happy moment first. I’m well aware that with the burden on the Elves relieved—our promises are fulfilled—and my tenure has wrapped up. I’ll be leaving, and you’re no longer honor-bound to remain.”
Ember nodded, but she held him unreasonably tight. She didn’t want to lose her best friend. She didn’t want to go.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You could always come with me.” Artorian rubbed Ember’s back whilst she held him, and he found that she was incredibly soft while covered in petal cloth—Rosewood’s latest invention. All the visual beauty of natural petals, with all the non-chafing comforts of cloth.
Ember let him go, and touched foreheads a moment. He didn’t try to stop her, giving her all the time she needed. “You know I can’t, Sunny. I… I really need to see the homeland… what’s left of it. See what’s become of it; come to terms with the loss. You can’t be the only one chasing your demons and punting them. Speaking of, I still feel bad for that chicken. Poor thing got kicked so hard I think it cooked on the way out of the atmosphere.”
“To be fair, it really shouldn’t have snuck up behind you and crowed while we were in the middle of combat.”
She pulled back and sighed. “Things are already different now… and we just won.”
Artorian nodded, staying next to the Mage as they watched the sun dip down into the horizon. It was a good moment; a calm moment of genuine peace that had awaited them for many a year, and now it was here. Ember bit her lip. “Where will you go?”
The academic rubbed his Dwarf-bound beard. The length had been kept manageable, but it was a serious beast that easily hung to his knees. “Skyspear Academy. I’ve been harping for seasons and seasons that I need to go back. Nowhere else will I—with my kind of style—find answers to questions any faster than at a place of higher learning. I bet that I’m going to arrive at the bottom of the million steps and feel right at home.”
Ember chuckled at his absurd assertion. “A million steps?”
The old man shrugged. “Supposedly. Never made it to the apex, as that is reserved for the Headmaster, but rock bottom teaches you lessons that the tops of mountains never will. Tall thing, Skyspear. It got its name from how the mountain seems to spear into the sky. Never seen one taller, or one shaped nearly as oddly. There was an amusing story once that a person of great power carved the Skyspear mountain out of the moon, then threw it down to the earth to impale his enemy.”
The Mage snorted and burst out laughing. “Ha! I’m at the threshold of the S-ranks and I wouldn’t be able to do that. Can’t go to the moons, you can’t breathe up there. Ambitious air Mages have tried, and discovered that we need less air; not that we don’t need it at all.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, seeing fireworks go off at the camp. Lights blinked and Wood Elves partied. Even Oak wasn’t getting any flak for being their usual… questionable selves. “Are you… thinking of going to celebrate with them?”
Artorian stole a glance, but slid a foot closer and hooked an arm around Ember’s. “I could. Or… we could go through Aura abilities again. One last time?”
The silent nod was answer enough. She tried to hide that she was wiping her face, but the old man had known enough children not wanting a loved one to go. There was no stopping such a strong emotion. If it came, it came. He could only be there for her.
For all her stoic strength, Ember had become a softie on the inside. All hard outer shell, that one. Her personality had been hidden away in the corner of her mind while she was forced to act and militantly operate. A few years with a friend had helped her step out of that shell. She’d even learned new tricks!
Half of them were developed to deal with his rambunctious butt… but that wasn’t important. Artorian held Ember until she was good and ready, until he was being gently brushed away. She hummed a tune to herself, and Artorian smiled as he caught some of the words she’d made to go with it over the years. “I don’t want to set the world on fire? Really? You should see some Bards and get that made into a song!”
Ember scoffed, and a laugh fractured her sadness with a smile. “No, no. The fallout would be devastating.”
The old man crossed arms behind his back and stepped a few paces away, letting the size of his Aura bloom as he spread it out, unfurling the energy like a lotus that woke to the morning dew. “Nonsense. It’s delightful. Have it made if you get the chance? It’s even somewhat romantic!”
Ember smiled, but still shook her head ‘no’. “It’s unfinished, and I would never want a song to chase me around. I’m a weapon of war; imagine the Abyss I would receive from others if it spread that I was the cause of a sappy love song.”
Artorian released a single, curt laugh, commenting with amusement, “Well, too bad. I know!”
The scion of fire flushed and narrowed her eyes at him. The area surrounding her rose in heat, but the lotus surrounding Artorian protected him with the feel of a pleasantly cool evening.
“Come now, we’re past this!” He tapped the ground with his foot, proving that he’d noticed her subterranean Mana interacting and preparing to explode and launch him into the air. “This too.”
A golden ring hung around his irises. The waving lotus leaves of his Aura reddened with fire Essence as they staved off the Mana’s effect by repelling the building heat. He couldn’t beat back Mana directly, but enough fine control got you close.
*Tsk*. Ember folded her arms and clicked her tongue at the sly fox. That trick of his was infuriatingly good. “I miss the days when that used to give you headaches, and you couldn't use it as often or for so long.”
Artorian’s eyebrow rose, his pleased expression widening as he added an extra quip to the conversation. “Remind me… who it was that demanded we break from the pattern and Infuse first?”
The heat in the area dropped to normal. His visible lotus Aura faded back to invisible obscurity as the Essence within was no longer needed. Artorian took gentle steps to the side as a solid spear of sharp flame erupted from the ground. His shuffled steps continued and changed to little bounces. Now he was hopping by his toes away from patches of unremarkable ground that suddenly spiked a fire spear from below.
The fence of pointed flame was doing its best to corral him, but he knew how to play the game by now. Artorian did indeed no longer suffer the horrible headaches. Ember had been correct in thinking that his mind would be unburdened by Infusing it.
Another benefit was that, while he’d never had much difficulty with concepts before, even utterly complex patterns were now… undemanding. The Essence patterns he wove and merged into his eyes had become something truly beautiful. With his brain no longer playing second fiddle to his eyes, the world he lived was an orchestra of information.
He could tell Ember that he could see the flows and designs of her Mana burrow into the ground. He could tell her that he saw the flaming cloud above him clear as day, about to rain down as a fence of spears in three… two…
Artorian’s pattern of hopping increased in pace for a moment as the golden outline of a spear traced through the space he currently occupied. Turning by the shoulder, he intentionally avoided the strike by only a hair, dancing around the crisscross pattern of slicing and dicing skewers that porcupined the landscape. The raw flow of energy was simple to locate, and the finished shapes imbued with solid ideals were downright easy.
The more Essence there was in a given area, or the more certain an amount of concentrated Essence was, the easier it became to predict the effects. Just as Corruption was physical, the increase in ‘inability to be otherwise’ significantly added to Artorian’s perception. Ember majestically choreographed her Aura without so much as moving a finger from her actual body, which was the only reason he had any trouble against her. She had no tells.
Oh? The golden Aura around Ember grew in size. Th
e pressure in her Aura was building, filling her presence past the mere external effects she’d been playing around with. The shining outline formed the shape of her being, considerably more massive than she actually was. Ah-ha! An intimidation attempt!
Artorian kept his hands behind his back as the last hop ended shortly before a flaming spear erupted from the ground and took the end off of his beard. No more spears were forthcoming, as there had been no more crafted in the area her expanded Aura retreated from. That tidbit was very important for power conservation.
Trying to make spears further—without her Aura dispersed and occupying this space—would incur the Essence cost of a technique. That was when abilities became costly and started to add up.
Sure, it was maybe a few units of Essence for a lance of light, but a cheap lance wasn’t going to accomplish much. You wanted a ten-unit lance to bore a hole through an Oak tree. Specifically oaken trees, as other types of wood needed different amounts of power. Fifteen units went through common metal armor like butter, and three was enough to flash-fry a rabbit from forty feet. The downside was that you lost the Essence.
You needed it to go twice the distance? The cost doubled. Three times? Tripled. Even then, each increment in range lost you somewhere between two to three units. A ten-unit lance became equivalent to… maybe a seven-unit lance at the doubled range, and that was just a basic application without complex shape, pattern, idea, or identity skewing. The more complicated your Essence technique, the costlier it became; and quickly.
If you could control your presence well, that became a different story. Yes, there were significant downsides to spreading your Aura thinly, but the academic was firmly of the opinion that the benefits outweighed the risks.
As an example of detriments: directly defending against incoming elemental blasts was much more complicated, and far less likely to be successful. Launching attacks also took more time.
However, and this was the big one for him, the expenditure of Essence in the sovereign area you occupied became nearly free. You could ‘reclaim’ the energy expended before it was lost for good. In other words, when your Presence occupied the space the technique was used in, the energy was a breeze to retrieve. Even if the Essence was used as a technique.
Now, an ordinary technique spent Essence in three fashions. Powering itself, carrying out its function, and wasteful loss. Mostly the third category was where a great majority of Essence went, based on what he’d seen over the last few years. Even the Wood Elves who boasted about their skill had glaring holes once he’d learned how to look. Pumping more Essence into a technique didn’t make it better, it just made it stronger! Some techniques even had an upper limit on the amount of Essence you could pour in before it shattered and created… unintended consequences.
Artorian watched Ember knit together the last loose-flowing energy in her form. Her combined Aura, her Presence, felt looming, gargantuan, and imposing. The effect itself was invisible unless you could literally see it happen, and given the Essence combination that took… it was unlikely that most people ever could.
Ember felt like she was the size of a mountain. Her words, even at normal volume, carried a weight that pushed against his inner Aura, compressing his organs and making him feel all sorts of unpleasant. But since he’d known it was coming…
“Come on, honey. Is this all you’ve got?” Artorian winked at Ember as she glared at him. That glare would have killed the weak-hearted just by being on the receiving end, and it wasn’t costing her anything to create. It made her a massive target, because she became impossible to ignore even from a great distance. This seemed like a great idea if you wanted to draw some attention, or perhaps crush some normal people without needing to fight them.
Ember fumed and exhaled through her nose at him. The resulting gust blew away everything in the immediate vicinity not connected to the ground. Her ploy wasn’t working. Artorian had gotten too used to too many of her war abilities and clever tactics.
Then a smile crossed her lips, and suddenly Artorian felt a shiver of fear race down his spine. He didn’t recognize this next pattern she was weaving, and it thrummed in the air upon release. Uh oh. Was that something new?
His smile dropped at the same speed that his lotus shape broke free, spreading out as far as he could reasonably control it. His Auric reach was nothing compared to Ember’s ‘Sovereign Domain’ presence, but it was… doing alright. He couldn’t feel much other than heat causing a highly-controlled air disturbance, and his ears oddly rang.
Remaining vigilant was a wasted effort. He heard the zipping of bees before they fragmented through his Aura. The energy field was useless against them. It couldn’t do a thing to defend against the flocking swarm that landed and crawled around on the unmoving old man.
Ember broke down in hectic laughter, slapping her knee as she released the intimidation effect she was upholding. She immediately felt like normal Ember—rather than mountain-sized Ember. “Now they… haha… they love you!”
Artorian couldn’t do more than pull his Aura back. Sighing with chagrin. Any harder and he’d knock some of the bees off. “So… it seemed like you built energy and… shouted? Not with words… with vibrations?”
Ember shrugged. She had a blast watching the bees continue to flock about in a noisy, buzzing cacophony. The swarm was having a great time checking out the Rosewood-crafted clothing line. “I speak bee now.”
Artorian made a sound that was something sassy along the lines of ‘sure’. “What, pray tell, did you say?”
Ember’s smile didn’t fade an inch, she was far too pleased about getting back at the sly fox for his earlier stunt. She had nothing left to teach him until—at a minimum—he was Ascended. They’d never gotten to a point where the academic had enough energy stored to turn his cultivation Core pearlescent—solidifying it—but it would happen on its own as he gained enough Essence.
The costly detour of body-infusing and Aura-uniting had caused setbacks. It made her feel guilty, but she knew it wouldn’t deter the old man. It was just going to take more time than they had together… and now she was sad again. “I said nothing. I yelled a word.”
Artorian badly wanted to rub the bridge of his nose, but some energetic bees were in the way. “What word did you yell…?”
“I said…” The Fire Soul turned on her heel and strolled down to the party, leaving the old man stuck in place. She mimicked Artorian’s way of speaking, and even steepled her fingers with a smirk. “…Honey.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Wood Elf going away party was stellar. Raucous festivities were hosted in a wide-open canopy beneath the bright stars. Honey drinks, pies, grilled feasts, and various regional specialties abounded. Groups of ‘enthusiastic’ drunken Elves made a sport to out-crazy one another, just to make the area more ‘aesthetic’. This meant that some added fireworks, and some turned trees into water spouts. Most of these ideas were… alcohol influenced.
A certain human missed half of it. When the buzzing creatures finally let him bee, the Dwarves had already arrived to Oak’s grove to join in the celebrations. The news that victory had been achieved spread like wildfire, without the actual fire thanks to Ember being in a good mood. They’d fetched the Dwarves from Oaks’ grove in a hurry.
A set of cheers and raised elkhorns filled with ale went through the crowd as the High Human arrived and hugged his way past the totally-not-drunk horde. When he finally could sit down, he did so with a tired flop… right into a mound of bear rugs that had only gotten taller as seasons passed. The beasts apparently originated from a dungeon just outside the forest that underwent constant breakouts.
The Dwarves casually mentioned that nobody intentionally went to that particular dungeon. The traps and creatures were made of puns, which was truly unbearable. Grizzly, even. Both the trip and the experience once there was teddy-us, and parties left never wanting to return to the earth-Essence dungeon.
The old man was asked to join in on the drunken
shenanigans, specifically the shifting of the environment, but he declined. He may have learned their techniques, but that didn’t mean he was able to perform them. Compound nature Essence contained earth. For him, that was pure corruption. As such, he couldn’t and wouldn’t tap into it.
His last session with Ember may have been cut short, but that was fine. The merchant troupe had brought supplies that would last them days, and a party for days it would be! There’d be plenty of time to… to… Artorian looked around and didn’t see Ember. A worry made itself known in his mind.
The Forum? No, not there either, so she wasn’t within the communal space the Elves occupied. His arm reached out, and a familiar Birch brushed against his touch. “Birchy? Where’s the warmest of us all?”
Taking a break from the party, the unlucky Elves steeled themselves. Sitting down next to their human, the Birch Elves all held onto him in some way. It was kind and gentle… like one does for a child they’re about to give some bad news. Artorian closed his eyes and sighed, his heart sinking. He gave Birch’s hand a pat, and shook his head to inform her that it didn’t need saying. “Of course she left. This war is over. There’s another to be found…”
While no amount of party was going to lift this weight from his spirit. The next few words from Birch helped a little. “She left you something.”
Curious, Artorian brushed his knees, flustered at the insinuation that he really meant something to Ember. “She left me s… no, that must be some joke in poor taste. If Emby was going to give me something, she’d give it to me directly.”
Birch nodded in agreement, “She said that would be exactly what you’d say, and to respond that ‘she already did’. This is extra, because it will serve your war better than it could hers.”
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