As she sat, Roy didn’t waste a second of hesitation, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. The light adept went wide-eyed for a second before returning his gaze, unable to hide her flaring spirit. “What was that?” she asked.
“A start,” Roy replied. “Of something more?”
Suddenly her smile widened, and her cheeks became redder than Remley’s coat. She nodded graciously before returning her head to Roy’s shoulder as she watched him work.
“What are you working on?” she asked moments later, scooting a bit closer until her body pressed against his.
Roy caught the scent of her hair, a lovely mix of lilacs and morning dew. “Just creating a few spirit stones,” he replied as the second began to take shape in his hand. She laced her fingers in his, pouring a tiny bit of her own aura in to solidify the stone’s form.
“What are they for?”
“I’m going to use one to spiritcraft my baton,” he replied calmly. “I’ve got an idea for a... void blade.”
Kimoura smiled at the man’s ingenuity, running her free hand through his lengthening black hair. “And the other?”
Roy lifted the newly minted spirit stone into the air and rolled it about between his fingers. “It’s a gift...” he replied. “A gift for someone that taught me a thing or two. Say, do they have a mail system in Eon?”
Kimoura giggled, taking the stone in her hand. “Not really,” she replied. “But I think I might be able to help you out.”
****
Old Renj rose from his cot beneath the Dragon’s Whetstone and stretched his weary limbs, the pain of old age echoing through every joint in his body. Slow and steady, the man dressed himself in his dated adept robes and made his way up the stairs to his humble, one-room shop.
Renji sighed as laid eyes on the stack of weapons he’d crafted for Headmaster Zion. He was hopeful that Zion’s death would nullify his contract… he could likely sell the weapons on the market for a much higher profit. Still, the greed of Atherune’s lords could not be underestimated.
As Renji began preparing his tools for the day’s work, a glint of something caught his eye. With a slight hobble in his step, Renji walked over to the window and opened it a crack, letting the glint of light into his shop. It spun about the room, taking the shape of a small, winged creature before coming to a rest in the old man’s hand.
It was a lightsong bird, a creature made directly from a light adept’s aura and used to deliver messages across the realm. Curious, Renji watched as the bird dissolved into essence, leaving just two items in his hands, a small rolled-up piece of parchment and a tiny leather sack.
Renji focused on the parchment first. A letter? Why, he hadn’t received a letter in ages, at least not one that wasn’t hand delivered to him demanding he provides his services for next to nothing. Taking a seat on the floor, Renji unfolded the parchment and began reading.
Dear Renji,
I hope this letter finds you well. I still feel bad for the mess I made of things at your shop… Turns out that mess ended up following me back home. Now we're on the run, having killed Atherune’s illustrious Headmaster and bringing more than a fair share of shame to the academy. It’s likely that we’ll be chased to the edge of Eons for what we’ve done, but we were left with no choice. This realm is brutal, and only the strong survive...
Anyway, the plan is to head north, beyond the reach of Eon’s greater cities. We're hoping to find refuge in Shadowreach, the lawless city of rogue adepts. I’m not going to lie… it actually sounds rather exciting.
By this point you're probably wondering why the hell some outrealmer that stumbled into your shop is wasting his time writing you letters. Well, the truth is I’m not too sure either. I just know that you showed me kindness in a place where none existed and asked for nothing in return. I know that I said I’d make sure you got out of Atherune, and I’m still intent on keeping that promise... but for now, this’ll have to do. Once more, thank you for sharing your wisdom… you are but a speck of light in a sea of darkness.
Respectfully,
Roy Skyworth
Renji set the parchment down on the floor and picked up the small, leather pouch. Slowly, he unraveled its string and dumped the contents into his hand.
The old man gasped.
Sitting in his palm was a fully developed spirit stone, its round, glossy edge giving off a black-violet glow. At its center swirled a second bit of energy, an icy-blue core of divine strength.
Renji let the stone slip out of his grasp as a tear began to roll down his cheek. For some time the man had worked alone, toiling away in his workshop, inching ever closer to his inevitable death. But now… now he’d passed something on, he’d helped create a foundation that the void adept could build upon to create a legacy of his own.
That thought brought him solace, as if a small part of him had been made immortal... and perhaps it had. For in a realm as brutal as Eon, helping forge one’s legacy was a sign of true strength.
Epilogue
Living shadow swirled about the personal chamber of Lord Jeryn Blackstar, a macabre decoration, but one fitting for the leader of the thousand-legged spiders guild. The man sat cross-legged in the center of the room, hovering inches of the ground in a state of deep meditation. Every now and then one of the shadow creatures would reach forward and prod at his spirit, but Blackstar’s indomitable will would instinctively force them away. He was a shadow adept after all, the darkness ingrained into his very soul.
After many moments of silence, one of the shadows took a humanoid form and retrieved something from Blackstar’s desk, a crystalline scrying orb of flawless design. On unsteady feet, the shadow lumbered over to Blackstar and placed the orb down in front of him, then began prodding at his spirit once more.
Finally, the adept’s eyes shot open and the shadow let out a low wail, dissipating into essence and leaving Blackstar alone with the orb. Seconds later the orb came to life, revealing the image of man in a black tunic, an eyepatch resting over his left eye... Blackstar’s disciple, Wrath.
“Sorry to interrupt you, my lord,” Wrath’s voice projected from the scrying orb. “But I have some... pertinent information.”
“Speak then,” Blackstar replied dryly.
Wrath sighed. “It appears the puppet you put into power, Zion Sho, has become... indisposed,” Wrath casually lifted a severed piece of Zion’s head into view, its singular eye staring lifelessly at the lord.
Blackstar rolled his eyes, as if the loss of Zion was a mere pawn off his chessboard. “Do you know who did it?”
Wrath nodded. “From the information I’ve gathered, it looks to have been the same group that disposed of Varyon in the dungeon. They seemed to have fled the area in an airship shortly after.”
Blackstar’s gaze began to tense. “And what of Varyon? He has now had two chances to eliminate that group... and he was to do so before word of the spiders reaches anyone else.”
Wrath nervously moved his jaw from one side to the other. “I was able to sense a bit of residual essence from Varyon’s aura. It looks like he was in the area, but has since gone rogue.”
Blackstar immediately scowled. The shadows in the room fed off his disdain, swirling around his head like some sort of vile crown as he contemplated his next moves. “Very well,” he finally replied. “I’ll have one of our spirikai’s set up new leadership in Atherune while another tracks down that irksome group of adepts. Instructor Jin seems eager to please…”
“And of the traitor, Varyon?” Wrath asked.
“I assumed leave that task for you. Perhaps you can get some revenge for that eye of yours he took.”
Wrath did his best to stifle a grin, but his flaring spirit easily gave his excitement way. “It will be done, my lord.”
“I know,” Blackstar replied, dismissing his disciple’s connection to the orb.
As Jeryn Blackstar fell back into meditative position, an unfamiliar feeling began to creep up from his gut. Was this sens
ation he was feeling... betrayal?
Blackstar sat back and processed the peculiar emotion. He had put a lot of personal effort into Varyon’s growth, first by resurrecting his body with the undying wraith, then by providing him personal training in the ways of the assassin. Perhaps he was even a bit remorseful... No that certainly couldn’t be it. The boy had potential but so did a sharpened blade.
Blackstar quickly forced the strange feelings out of his spirit. No longer would he view the boy as an asset to the spider guild. From now on he’d only be viewed.. as a casualty of war.
Somewhat content, Blackstar settled back into his meditation as the living shadows resumed there pacing about the room. He’d nearly reached a level of deep channeling when something sent an absolute shiver down his spirit. Jeryn Blackstar shuddered, knowing all too well what awaited once he opened his eyes. Unfortunately, even lords had higher powers to answer to. With trepidation Blackstar slowly peeled his eyelids open... and what he found staring back at him was the unwavering gaze of a dark god.
****
In Shadowreach, the city of rogue adepts, power was the one and only rule of law. The time of guilds had long since passed within the city’s walls, making the place a haven for outlaws or those with a reason to run... or for those who chose to live by their own set of rules.
As dusk took hold of the city a woman walked alone down darkened streets, her pale blue tunic standing out like a beacon for wandering eyes with cruel intentions. She hadn’t intended to mosey the streets after dark, but a meeting with one of her constituents had dragged on far longer than she expected. Now she was left to make the trip home alone, vulnerable and exposed.
The woman’s nerves began to settle as she rounded the final corner, her humble apartment now in sight. Just a few more steps and she’d be safe behind the walls of-
A sudden noise brought the woman pause as four dark figures approached from the shadows, surrounding her and cutting off any means of escape.
“Please,” the woman begged, recognizing the ill intent in each of their eyes. Although she was a second rank water adept, she would never be able to stand up against four men of equal strength. And besides, she mostly used her skills for entertainment, not combat!
“Don’t scream,” one of the men ordered grimly, his dirty, ragged adept’s tunic an accurate reflection of his soul. “And we’ll let you live.”
The woman desperately began calling spirit energy into her hands, but a hard shot from behind interrupted her channeling and left her writhing in the street.
“Suit yourself,” the man said, pulling a jagged blade out of his belt. Slowly, the man approached the dazed woman, each step heavy with malice. With a wicked grin, he raised the blade into the air and took aim at the woman’s back...
The sound of fast-approaching footsteps brought the man’s actions to a pause. He glanced to the left just in time to see a ball of light streak through the air and incinerate his hand. The man’s knife clattered to the ground as his gaze locked on his smoking stump, then he let out a scream that could wake even the gods.
Emerging from the shadows was a fifth man, his body covered in green and brown adept’s attire and his face concealed by a cloth mask. In his hands, he held a weapon not of this realm, an item from his home world that he’d modified for use on Eon... his spirit shotgun.
“Get the hell out of here,” the man ordered, raising the gun and pointing it at the second rogue. The grimy adept foolishly lunged in, thinking he could get a hold of the newcomer before he struck. He was quite wrong.
The masked adept fired his shotgun again, blowing a hole through the man’s chest and dropping him dead where he stood. Screens of data quickly appeared in the masked man’s vision feeding him data on his last two threats, threats that had begun fleeing for their lives. For a second, the masked man considered chasing them down. A quick channeling of his beast aura and an activation of beast form would be more than enough to get the job done... luckily he wasn’t looking to cause any unnecessary bloodshed. At least, not tonight.
Slowly, the woman rose from the ground and gave the masked adept a grateful look. “W-why did you save me? Who... are you?”
The adept slung the spirit shotgun across his back and removed his mask, allowing his long hair to fall to his shoulders. “Just a bit of order in this lawless land,” he replied, adjusting the gold badge pinned to his tunic.
“Well, what can I call you?” the woman asked, truly grateful for the man’s help.
He sighed. “Some have begun calling me the adept of law... if that works for you.”
She nodded and the man returned the mask to his face before setting off into the night, in pursuit of the next devil hiding in the shadow. Kai Blaine, former officer of the Phoenix City Police Department, had work to do.
Roy Skyworth’s Character Sheet
Name: Roy Skyworth
Void Adept
Rank: 2nd
Specialization: Dark Vanguard
Divine Power: Deep Freeze
//////////
Base Skills (the pillars of the adept):
Body Reinforcement
Aura Blast
Spirit Evocation
Meditation
Void skills:
Aura Bullet
Void Boxing
Specialized skills:
Dark Spiral
Void Grenade
//////////
Spirit Growth:
Aura growth at 20% to rank 3
Other requirements to reach spiriteka not met
Inventory:
1 Phoenix City Police Badge
1 Void blade
1 Arc Launcher
1 Common Adept’s Attire
//////////
Bounty of Blades
The Adept Archives: Volume 2
Prologue
Goldspire Outpost, The realm of Eon
Ayzeth Kaito was one of the most vicious killers in all of Eon. With a kill count in the hundreds, perhaps even thousands, he was an adept that was feared throughout the realm’s lower regions...
And with good reason.
The devil adept was meticulous in his execution, a true master in the art of death. Those marked by him were oft referred to as the walking dead, an inevitable name on his long list of bounties. And with the man’s pure devil aura, he was considered a threat to even those above his rank.
Those who laid eyes on Ayzeth often mistook him for a creature of the underworld, with his skin red like blood and his head adorned with a pair of curved horns. That was largely due to his devil aura… a spirit aura so pure, so absolute that it had changed his physical appearance. Some may have considered it a deformation, but Ayzeth reveled in it, preferring to think of himself as an emissary of the dark gods as he descended on his prey.
Today, the devil adept had a particularly lucrative target... an information broker from the cloud serpent guild that had made the mistake of whispering secrets into one too many ears. It was a foolish act and one that had the potential to cause problems for his masters. But no matter... Ayzeth would ensure that the last noise escaping the man’s lips were pleas for his life.
Dressed in a tunic blacker than ink, the devil adept crept along the far wall of Goldspire outpost, using the shadows to conceal his movements as he approached the building’s front door. This merchant outpost, a trading hub typically bustling with activity, had mostly quieted due to the approaching veil. Now only two types of people remained behind the building’s walls... those looking to share secrets best unspoken and those seeking to act on their carnal desires.
Filth more than deserving of his wrath.
Casting a hood over his head, Ayzeth pressed his way through the wooden doors and entered the outpost. A few curious gazes wandered his way, though not a word was said as the man made his way through the lobby and up the room’s far set of stairs. They weren’t a particular cunning group of patrons, but they knew that nothing good could come from the arrival of a man preceding t
he veil.
Moving silently, Ayzeth crept up the old, wooden staircase before turning down a hallway that grew darker with each passing second. He was careful to mask his spirit aura as he progressed, certain that his prey would flee if he knew what fate awaited him.
Ayzeth paused as he reached his destination, a door with the number thirteen etched into the charcoal-colored wood. The chamber behind was sealed with a number of protective runes... a rune to protect against scrying, one to ward off apparitions and spiritual visitors, and even one to guard against forcible entry. Pity, they’d need a lot more than that to keep him out.
Channeling devil aura into his fist, Ayzeth threw a single, thunderous punch into the door. The portal shattered like a pane of glass, sending splinters of wood spraying across the violet rug. The rest of the barrier didn’t fare any better, simply vanishing as it was completely obliterated by the destructive power of Ayzeth’s devil aura.
Protective runes flickered out of existence as the devil adept entered the chamber, leaving nothing but the soft glow of an oil lamp and a palpable sense of fear that seemed to grow thicker with each passing breath.
“Wait, you’re-“
Those were the only words the first man blurted out before a thin blast of crimson spirit energy tore through his chest, leaving a smoldering hole where his heart once beat. A second later his body fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.
That left just Ayzeth and his true target alone in the chamber. Standing at the far end of the room was an adept in cloudy blue robes, his body surrounded by a silvery spirit aura. The man was tall and lanky, his face weathered with age and his long, blue hair pulled back into a loose tail... Raizen, Snake of the Cloud Serpents Guild.
The Adept Archives: Volumes 1-3 Page 23