Nestling

by Lupine King

  “He would have been proud of you, you know”, his grandmother suddenly said.

  “Who?” he asked curiously.

  “Your father”, she stated. “He would have been very proud of you. Valiant didn’t make it into the finals of any Zebre until he was nineteen. He did win two years after that though, beating Vorm who only won when he was twenty”, she said wistfully.

  Valerian leaned forward, listening intently for more.

  “He was just like you. I remember, he went into a training frenzy that year. It seemed like he spent every waking moment back then pushing himself, knowing that it was his last chance to beat the record Vorm had set”, his grandmother added with a laugh. “You’re like him in that aspect. You know how to set needless things aside and focus on your objectives. It served him well and it will do the same for you.”

  “I just wish he was here to see you now”, she said in a sad tone. “He’d be so happy!”

  “What about you?” Valerian ventured.

  As much as he liked hearing about his parents, Valerian never knew them. Others might consider it strange but for him, they were just people he had heard about. His mother disappeared in the weeks after he was born, his father in the midst of searching for her. Even he, with his vaunted memory, could not even remember them. What little affection he had towards them, he had gained because they mattered to the people who actually concerned him. Perhaps, he was just cold but that was just how things were. In his mind, parents were merely a fuzzy image. An idea that represented those who bore him. His grandparents, his uncles, his aunt and cousins, Avery, his grandmother’s daemons, Healer Brian, those were people he cared for. His family.

  Their opinions were the only ones that mattered. Their pains were his pains. Their joys, his joys. Their dreams, his dreams. That was because they had done the same for him from his first conscious moments to this very second and they had never made it seem like a chore. They had always loved him and so he loved them. Those days when his tellurian cultivation seemed bleak, they had stuck with him. They, not the clan, contributed to purchase the resources necessary for improving his body and paid the medical fees that came as a result.

  When he came from the Stormhawk’s domain and informed them that he was not a peng like he had first believed, they had been unconcerned and uncaring of the revelation. Their only worry was whether he was alright. Valerian knew that had anything actually happened to him beyond that portal, they would have come for him, clan and deity be damned. There was a reason Valerian’s greatest fear was letting them down. The battle against Aaron Veldt had proved that he would rather die than make it seem like all their efforts and hopes had been misplaced.

  Even so, he had to know. There was still some lingering fear in his heart. Which was why he asked his grandmother that question. He wanted, no, he needed that assurance.

  “Me?” his grandmother questioned incredulously.

  “Are you proud?” he ventured.

  “Valerian…” his grandmother began. She made to sit on the stone bench with him and he quickly made space for her.

  “Do you really have to ask that?” she asked. Valerian said nothing.

  “Look around you, Valerian”, she said. “You see these people?” referring to their family and friends. He nodded.

  “They are here for you, because of you. Each of them has come here to celebrate your success. You are the youngest array master of the age. The youngest in our country’s history to become a circle master of three attributes. On top of that, you are a Steelborn, a scion of the House of Cragsveil, descended from the main line of the Menhirionn and now, favoured by the Stormhawk itself. Not to mention, you are a descendant of the legendary KunPeng. You not only reached the finals of the Zebre but also fought your way to second place in your first appearance despite being the youngest combatant in your category.

  “How many can possibly lay claim to as many feats at your age? How many would dare even compare themselves with you? Who wouldn’t beat his chest with pride just for knowing you? How could we, your family not do same? We have even been privileged to have seen you grow, to have taught you and been part of making you who you are today. How could we not be proud?

  “Besides that, these people are here not because of what you have done but because of who you are. They are not here for the person who claimed second place in the Zebre but for Valerian Steelborn. I dare say that even if Valerian Steelborn never amounted to much, lost all his matches and wasn’t the great array master we know him to be, they’d still be here. They’d be happy and celebratory. Why? Because we are family. You never have to ask that question because you already know the answer, right here” she said, poking him in the chest.

  “We’re family, Valerian and we’ll always be proud of you, no matter what!” she declared.

  Valerian’s eyes softened as his grandmother’s words made their way into his heart. Still, something prompted him to ask. No one had spoken on the issue and it worried him.

  “Even if I’m not a peng?” he inquired.

  “Even if you’re not a peng!” she affirmed with a smile.

  Valerian sighed in relief. Happy to have put the matter to rest.

  “Actually, we knew you weren’t one anyway”, his grandmother revealed.

  “Really?” Valerian asked. “How?”

  “Truthfully, ignoring the fact that the appearance and aura of a divine creature like a golden winged peng is not something that any of us can hide or prevent from getting out, your grandfather refused to believe that a primordial being descended on a little mountainside in our territory without leaving any signs or that there is anything alive on Verre that could possess such a connection to the being to make it do so”, she started.

  Valerian rubbed his hands. Looking at it now, it was a bit much to think the KunPeng itself came down to activate his legacy. Deities also had things to do right? The Stormhawk was probably right when it said that he had inherited a portion of its divine will instead.

  “And you?” he asked her. His grandmother was one of the greatest beast tamers in DaleGuard. Surely, she had noticed something.

  “Well, you don’t look like a peng for one”, she said. He nodded. The Stormhawk had mentioned that, repeatedly. It really made him feel stupid for not noticing that beforehand.

  “Then, there’s the problem with your attributes” she added.

  “My attributes?” he inquired.

  “Yes. One extremely notable thing about golden winged pengs is the fact that they are born with four innate attributes; water, metal, wind and lightning. You only have two; metal and wind!” she pointed out.

  “Four!” Valerian exclaimed in surprise.

  “Yes Valerian, four. There is a reason why pengs are considered daemons of the highest rank”, she said with one of her laughs.

  “I was not even close, was I?” Valerian mused out loud. The more he learnt about his ancestors the more insignificant they made him feel. The sheer gulf in abilities was mind-blowing.

  “Maybe not”, his grandmother admitted. “I’ve told you this several times. That doesn’t matter much in the grand scheme. Innate abilities are great but while they do help, they rarely have any real impact on where people end up. What does is the hard work and effort taken to develop them and any other abilities so that they might benefit you. You work hard Valerian, harder than anyone I have had the pleasure to know, harder than I ever did. You’ll surely be a figure that inspires awe in the future. Even the KunPeng originally started out with only the attributes of water and metal and see where its determination took it. You can do same.”

  “Grandmother!” Valerian exclaimed in shock. “That was the KunPeng!” He tried to point out. He could not believe she really made that comparison.

  “So”, she said with a laugh. “My grandson is just as a great”, she added with a playful nudge.

  Valerian could not help it, he laughed with her.

  “Valerian! Valerian!” a loud voice cried. Searching for the
source, he discovered his Uncle Vorm waving him over.

  “Come here Valerian, everyone is gathering!” the man yelled.

  He turned to his grandmother but she just smiled and motioned him forwards. He simply got up and held out his arm for her to take. Laughing sweetly, she took it and they went over to where everyone was gathered.

  Once there, his uncle slapped a cup of something into his hands and called for silence.

  “Everyone, everyone! I’d like to present to you Valerian Steelborn, boy genius, gifted array master and recently a combatant in our city’s arena. He was the youngest combatant of this year’s Zebre and the first runner-up in the Young Lord’s Tourney. That his is now the record to beat in our family goes unsaid”, the man began.

  “If you’re wondering where he gets it from, let me remind you… he is my nephew!” he quickly slipped in, much to the laughter of those gathered.

  “You’re still quite young Valerian”, the man continued. “Nevertheless, you’ve accomplished a lot and quite frankly, you’re making the rest of us look bad” he joked. More laughter followed.

  “Even so, we have come here today to celebrate your victories and to wish you well. That you might never falter but go onwards and gloriously to higher heights. So, gathered here as one family, we lift up our glasses to you”, everyone raised their glasses at his words. “…and to your future successes. We love you, Valerian, you do us proud. Congratulations, Valerian!”

  “Congratulations Valerian!” Everyone yelled.

  Truthfully, Valerian had missed some of his uncle’s words. He was temporarily distracted at the sight of the twins attempting to lure Sela closer with a whole roast bird they had probably taken off one of the tables. However, he caught the entire latter half and could not help but be touched. His grandmother had been right. He had nothing to worry about. He could feel the love they had for him. He could see how happy and proud they were. Tears came to his eyes but he blinked them away. These were the people he wanted beside him. He would have no others. They were his family and he loved them too.

  Valerian raised his cup with the rest of them and downed it. As the congratulations came and the sentiment in the courtyard rose, Valerian merely sat back and soaked in the warm feelings.

  He did not cry.

  It did not matter anyway. Everyone was momentarily distracted by Sela playfully wrestling with the twins for the roast bird.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Schools and Objectives

  The next day, the family was gathered in the courtyard again. Only this time, the jovial atmosphere of the night before was nowhere to be found. Vorm was back to his usual stern self and the rest of the family lounged around, relaxed but focused on the matter at hand. This matter? Valerian’s schooling.

  “We have delayed enough”, Vorm was saying. “I doubt that any more schools will offer themselves up. Best we choose one and be done with it”.

  “I agree”, the magistrate said surprisingly. “We will be unable to get any more from delaying and its best we seize this moment where Valerian’s victories are still fresh in everyone’s minds to make our pitch.”

  “The question remains, Uncle. Which do we choose and how?” Jonas asked.

  “The actual selection will be up to Valerian”, the magistrate announced, causing Valerian’s eyebrow to quirk upwards in surprise.

  “It will be up to the rest of us to help with that decision especially when it comes to narrowing the list. For instance…” he said, his hand stretched to the side.

  As if by some pre-arranged signal, his wife plopped a bunch of papers and letters into it.

  “These are the letters and offers from the schools that did not send any representative or spokesperson”, he continued.

  Then, he tossed the identified sheaf of papers onto the cobblestones at his side. Sela, who was close by, stuck her tail into the pile. Following that, a burst of lightning crackled around the tip of her tail and the papers were instantly set alight. Everyone’s eyes flicked from the burning pile of papers to the magistrate with Richard chuckling slightly at the old man’s theatrics. Valerian’s response was different. He was busy trying not to let his disappointment show. He knew for a fact that Eight Hills and Marrbisi were on that list.

  “Now, we can focus on this smaller and much more important list”, the man said, retrieving a single sheet from his robes.

  “Wait, Uncle Valan!” Jonas exclaimed. “Are you sure we should dismiss the others so easily? There are a lot of great schools in that pile you just burned. Would it not be better to contact them and attempt to negotiate?”

  “Ordinarily, yes!” Vorm interjected. “But Uncle Valan is not interested in how great they are or their national rankings, is he?” Vorm said with an understanding smirk.

  “He is looking for the ones he can squeeze dry. By choosing to ignore his directives and not sending someone to meet him personally, they showed that they would not be willing to budge or meet his demands. Basically, they didn’t think the value Valerian posed was worth them lowering their heads. Even if we ignored the slight, the fact still remains that the best we can get from them is admission and that is not enough for you, is it dear uncle?”

  The magistrate coughed slightly and ignored the question, choosing to say instead, “Anyway, we have a reduced list here with only five members. I took the liberty of ignoring all institutions that had no national renown and in light of their recent actions, Jonas’ alma mater. These names read as follows; The Royal Institute Array Masters and Artificers, The Royal Military Colleges of Bathar, The Ivory Spire Institute, The Earthen Obelisk School and finally, The Eternal Fields Academy.”

  It was a short list of long names but each and every single one of them carried incredible renown. They were all among the best educational institutions that Bathar had to offer. Valerian had trouble believing that they all wanted him to enrol in them. The fourth especially.

  “Earthen Obelisk? I thought you said there was no tellurian school in the running?” he was forced to ask.

  “There isn’t dear”, his grandmother answered. “The Earthen Obelisk contacted us on behalf of one of their chief Array Masters. He wishes to take you as an apprentice. They aren’t offering tuition. Technically, you wouldn’t even be a student at the school. It’s the same thing as you studying under Jonas. You aren’t a member of his institute. However, the fact that the school took the initiative of reaching out on the man’s behalf is a good sign. With luck, we might be able to work something out”.

  “Oh!” Valerian mumbled. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

  “The question we should be asking now is how we narrow the list further”, his grandfather spoke up suddenly.

  “Valerian!” he added to catch his attention. “Any thoughts?”

  For a moment, Valerian gaped at the man, surprised that he would ask him. Then quickly, he scrambled for something to say. “I am not sure. What parameters are we using to make our decisions?”

  “From this point forward, your preferences”, the old man replied. “Whichever one you want. Whatever criteria you set. That’s what we’ll go with.”

  Valerian sat there dumbfounded, knowing instinctively that his grandfather was talking about more than a selection of schools. This was something he had wanted for so long that it was ironic then that he could think of nothing to say. He had finally been given the chance to speak his mind and nothing would come out. He was utterly unprepared. He took a quick glance around and caught the encouraging smiles his family was sending him. They didn’t help much.

  Then a voice rang out. “Let’s start with this, Valerian. What do you want to be? What’s your current goal? We’ll then eliminate the schools that can’t help you achieve it”, his uncle Vorm said.

  “My goals?” Valerian repeated. The question put him in a pensive state. Unbidden, his hand came up to stroke his chin. What were his goals? Come to think of it, Valerian had never truly considered that in detail. He said as much.

  �
�I do not know”, he admitted.

  “What are you saying Valerian, that you have no goals?” his uncle asked, perplexed. The others leaned forward at this waiting for the answer to the question.

  “I’m assuming that you mean goals as in careers and the like”, Valerian begun. “Honestly, I have never given such things much thought. I have objectives, targets I aim at. For the longest time, the most important of those was getting to the qi manifestation stage and figuring out what legacy I had, if there truly was any, in the hopes of solving my cultivation issues. Things like professions, careers or what I would be in the future have never been my focus”, he admitted.

  His family stared at him dumbstruck. What child didn’t have a profession or two he dreamt of growing up to be? It saddened them a bit that Valerian had never had that opportunity to dream. Instead, he had been forced to be pragmatic and focus on his immediate concerns.

  “What about your array craft, Valerian?” Jonas inquired.

  “I like it. I like it a lot. It’s opened my eyes to dimensions of the arcane arts that I wouldn’t have known existed otherwise”, he acknowledged. “However, growing up to be an array master has never been the goal nor was it the reason I chose to study the craft. I did so because it is a discipline of arcane studies that provides its users with powerful, versatile tools as well as deepens his or her understanding of essence in addition to refining control.

  “Of course, that I had a good teacher on hand who made it look good and viable as a choice of study does not need mentioning”, he added.

  “I see”, Jonas said though his tone told everyone that he really didn’t.

  Vorm was more interested in something else Valerian had said. “You mentioned that you had instead of goals you had objectives. Tell us a few. We might be able to narrow the list based on them.”

  Valerian hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he should really make public so personal. He had only ever discussed a few with his grandmother, Uncle Richard and Avery. None of them knew all of it. However, a thought struck him. These were the people he trusted. The ones who would actually help him fulfil them. If he couldn’t tell them, who could he tell?