by Lupine King
Hatchling
Heavenward on Golden Wings, Volume 1
Lupine King
Published by Winenbinge Brian Amenga-Etego, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HATCHLING
First edition. April 5, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 Lupine King.
Written by Lupine King.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
PART I | THE MAGISTRATE'S GRANDSON | 1
ONE | The Magistrate’s Grandson
TWO | Outstanding Talent?
THREE | Prospects
FOUR | Clan Matters
FIVE | Essence Theory
SIX | The Manifold Elemental Incarnations
SEVEN | Arcane Baptism
EIGHT | Harriers and Cluders
NINE | Cultivation is...
TEN | Complications
ELEVEN | Left with One
TWELVE | The Hope Not Lost
PART II | ...OF GUILE AND FORCE | 2
THIRTEEN | Commander Vorm's Visit
FOURTEEN | Commander Vorm's Mission
FIFTEEN | Let Loose
SIXTEEN | Contradicting Views?
SEVENTEEN | ...of Guile and Force
EIGHTEEN | Setting Out
NINETEEN | Hunting with Grandmother
TWENTY | Hunting with Daemons
TWENTY-ONE | Innocence Lost
PART III | THE AWAKENED LEGACY | 3
TWENTY-TWO | Array Master of the First Circle
TWENTY-THREE | Hunting Solo
TWENTY-FOUR | Where Negotiations Fail
TWENTY-FIVE | Blocked In
TWENTY-SIX | Widespread Destruction
TWENTY-SEVEN | A Rescue?
TWENTY-EIGHT | The Valley
TWENTY-NINE | Into the Lair
THIRTY | The Daemonic Inclination
THIRTY-ONE | The Ancient Will
THIRTY-TWO | The Awakened Legacy
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About the Author
For my grandparents;
The son of Ataripagum, who taught me the power of words and Maami, who not only named me but made me believe I could do anything.
For all of the readers of the HoGW web serial, who made this possible.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
FEW HAVE GIVEN ME MORE hope that what I create is worth reading than the names listed here. They are true heroes who, more times than I would like to admit, were the reason I stayed on this path. This is not just an acknowledgement of their support and dedication but also a show of appreciation for what they have done.
Thank you all! Remain Heroes!
● Stone Rose “Le Grande Chef”
● ScruffyBobo
● Druiseeker
● zachj
● Dapper
● DardyNoongar
● FFT1 the BlazeKiller
● Argetsword
● Ricardo
● Pavante
● Angelupdatesnow
● Caladbolg
● CharlesReynolds
● Jawke
● DesertWight
● Patrick
● KyleRyan
● Prana
PART I
THE MAGISTRATE'S GRANDSON
1
WHERE DO WE START?” Lord Elhan asked his students. “Anyone? We have a task before us. How are we to undertake it? Where do we start?”
“At the beginning, of course”, one student called out. The class laughed at his sarcastic comment causing him to smile proudly at his wit. He was ordinarily a good student, passing and qualifying for Elhan’s class on the arcane arts without much effort. Sadly, he was yet another student who had fallen into the trap of thinking himself smart and witty, but unfortunately for him, his teacher was not amused.
“The beginning huh? Where is that? When is that?” Elhan questioned the wisecracking boy. The class was quiet now, not quite getting where this was going.
“The beginning is the beginning”, the confused boy answered.
“And that is where your stupidity shows!” came the teacher’s harsh voice. “Try not to speak about concepts you do not understand; such actions will not be tolerated in this class.
“Now take notes”, the entire class scrambled to jot down the teacher’s words. “No matter the task you have been given. No matter what it is you wish to do, the first thing to do is to take stock. Remember this, ‘we start with what we have’. Only then do you know what is currently possible and what you are lacking. Understanding your task and what you possess is the key to fulfilling it. It is what determines everything and allows you to achieve whatever goal you set even if it is sussing out such nebulous things as beginnings and ends.”
ONE
The Magistrate’s Grandson
HARVEST MOON, YEAR 41|13, Age of Reflection
THE CITY OF DALEGUARD was one of the foremost cities in the northern lands of the Kingdom of Bathar. It was the only one within six thousand kilometres and it stood as both a symbol of the Kingdom’s power and influence, as well as a bastion against their enemies to the north and the beast hordes of the Great Wildlands to the east. It sat stolidly at the mouth of a great valley, effectively blocking the openings to the highlands before it, whilst guarding the vast plains behind it. From afar, anyone could make out its great flanking guard towers and their beckoning top lights.
DaleGuard truly was a symbol of power and civilisation in this desolate corner of the north. The surrounding lands might not be as prosperous, but the city itself was well developed. It served as an administrative power and trade centre in the area, possessing numerous market places and government offices. It even had seven courthouses, with a magistrate each just to handle legal matters. At the moment though, one of the magistrates was not at his post.
MAGISTRATE VALAN STEELBORN walked towards the inner courtyard with a hurried, but measured, gait. He had long hair that was tied in a ponytail and a beard he was obviously proud of as it was cared for meticulously. Both were pure grey, displaying his seventy-two years of life for all to see. He projected an intense scholarly air, and seemed like the kind of person to see when in need of counsel. At this moment though, his brow was furrowed with concern.
“You are certain of this?” he asked to make sure.
“Yes, magistrate! I have watched the young master for years. I noticed the change when it began, but I just couldn’t believe it. I had to be certain, which is why I waited a week before informing you,” one of the two men beside him quickly answered.
The man in question was Avery, a servant of the magistrate’s household: valet, caretaker and minder for his grandson; Avery was a stern faced, deep voiced, middle-aged man who dressed more like a guard than a child’s caretaker. Especially when you considered the two-handed longsword he carried on his back. Avery carried it everywhere and it was his most distinctive feature. He walked briskly, a few steps behind the magistrate, as they made for the courtyard.
“An entire week? And if something had happened as you waited?” the magistrate demanded.
“Then I would have taken full responsibility. It’s just... the changes happened too slowly. It wasn’t until five days had passed before the change was significant enough for me to be certain. I waited the extra days to be sure that it was still happening”, came his answer.
The other man walking beside the two snorted in derision. Obviously, he did not support Avery’s decision. The three men marched briskly towards their destination eager to either affirm the news or clear up the misunderstanding. The closer they got, the clearer they could make out the beautiful mu
sic coming from the place.
A boy who looked no older than eight sat on a stone bench, a flute to his lips. The melody was heady, with a quick-tempo, as if a lot of things were being said, but too fast to be made out. Flitting between sharp and dull, short and long, high and low the notes were blasted out continuously and loudly from the flute in a simple harmony. Watching, you couldn’t help but wonder how the young man got the breath to play as he did for he never paused to breathe. He just went on playing, his fingers marching like soldiers over the silver flute.
The performance was enrapturing, and his onlookers loath to interrupt the scene, which did not happen nearly as much as they wanted it to. Especially, when it was of his own volition, and not at the behest of his grandparents, or on the order of Mrs. Fang, his teacher at the Grammar School.
The magistrate took a good long stare at his grandson, a look of pride on his face. He had only one child, the father of the boy, but he went missing before Valerian was even a year old. Valan’s wife along with the child was the core of his life. They were not his only family but he was estranged from most of his other relatives, and he did not have much affection for them beyond filial duty. His grandson on the other hand, he would move the world for. What other reason would compel him to leave his work and rush home?
He waited for the song to end and then called out, “Valerian! Come here!”
THE BOY WAS STUNNED for a moment before he turned to glance at the walkway to his left, where he saw his grandfather, his caretaker and his uncle, the captain of the manor guards. Quickly, he rushed over, a smile on his face.
“Welcome home grandfather!” he greeted. “Welcome home, Uncle Richard; Avery”, he added.
The old man smiled and waved him even closer. Valerian moved to his side now a bit confused. He could sense the intense stares the older men were training on him. Was he in trouble? Keeping calm outwardly, he searched his mind furiously to figure out what he could possibly have done. His thoughts were derailed when his grandfather clasped a warm hand to his shoulder and then performed a small squat that they might be level.
Valan was an incredibly dignified old man, always projecting a noble and stately air. However, that was only when he was out or at work. At home, he was a husband and a grandfather. He had no need to remain as formal here. Rather, now, he beamed at his grandson who was currently at the same height as he was. Laughing, he asked, “How’s Grammar School? Progressing well?”
Valerian’s guard lapsed a little. Grammar School? Was that what this was about? Well, he had done nothing wrong. He was sure of it. It was probably Mrs. Fang complaining again. What did she say this time? ‘Unmotivated and anti social?’ Valerian didn’t even understand what he was doing there, and he had said so time and again.
“It’s so boring and everyone is so dull,” he responded, “Mrs. Fang is always harping and complaining when I sleep in class, but it’s not my fault. Everything is just too easy. I’ve already learned all the letters and numbers” Valerian pouted as he looked to his grandfather.
His grandfather laughed, “That is what you always say”.
This was true though. There was nothing for him to learn there. Everything really was too easy. He had long since mastered everything of that level. He didn’t understand why his classmates found the material difficult. Plus, they were so annoying and childish. Valerian honestly felt he was wasting his time there. He would rather stay at home and read from the manor library but his grandparents insisted on sending him out.
How could he know that it was for his own sake? There were no children around the manor and even the youngest servant was a year past his first score. His grandparents were merely worried that his development would be affected if he did not interact with some of his peers, which was why they sent him to the Fangs’ Grammar School every day. At least there he could meet and play with children his own age.
Sadly, things didn’t work out as smoothly. For one, Valerian was much too mature. He found it hard interacting and playing with the children at school, and they with him. He was also too intelligent, widening the gap between him and they even more. Some of the meaner ones had even begun to call him, ‘old man’ due to his ways. But that did not matter anymore. He would not have to go back there again. He had more important things to do with his time now.
“Let me tell you something,” the magistrate said somewhat more seriously. “Starting tomorrow you will be tutored at home. You don’t have to go to the school anymore.”
“Really grandfather?” Valerian asked joyfully.
“Of course! In fact, at least twice a week I will take charge of your studies.”
Valerian was delighted. He knew full well that his grandpa was an acclaimed scholar. To have the chance to learn from him was something even Mrs. Fang, with all her knowledge, would beg for. He thanked his grandfather profusely, happy to get out of Grammar School.
Valerian’s grandfather laughed again. No need to be so happy about quitting Grammar School. Your studies will be three times as hard from now on. Just head in and get ready. Your grandmother will be home soon.”
Valerian immediately ran off to clean up and get ready, joy evident on his face. Not only was he not in trouble, he was finally out of Mrs. Fang’s class. He never had to go back to that Grammar School again. Shooting a quick glance back at the men behind him, he once more saw the proud and happy smile on his grandfather’s face.
‘The old man is in a good mood today. I wonder what happened?’ he mused to himself.
THE OLD MAN IN QUESTION watched him go with a proud smile and then turned to the captain of the manor guards. “Richard, your thoughts?”
Richard, the only one amongst the three yet to speak, stepped forward at the sound of the man’s voice. He was a large man. Far larger than the other two at seven feet and blessed with thick, corded muscles. He was dressed in dark leather and shiny steel. Massive steel gauntlets covered his forearms, large steel sabatons and greaves for his legs along with a breastplate made his identity as an elite warrior easy to guess. There was clearly good reason in him being the captain of the guards.
Richard was a calm man. He spoke in a low tone; and walked at a measured pace, even with his slight limp. Scars could be seen on his jaw, leading down into his vest where surely there was more beneath his clothes.
“I checked, magistrate, and Valerian really has begun bone transformation.” The matter had been easy to determine for someone at the lord tier like himself. All he had needed to do was examine Valerian’s body with his qi. Additionally, he was capable of doing so from a distance, unlike the magistrate who had to resort to pulsing his energy through the boy’s body via direct contact.
“Normally, this would imply that he is practising a method of some kind, except if Avery is right, then Valerian has not done anything remotely related to cultivation. Additionally, even as he stood in front of us, I could detect minute amounts of world essence entering his body without aid. However, even passive essence accumulation requires a method of some sort, not to mention training. As yet, I doubt he is aware of what is happening to his body which only raises more questions. The whole thing is strange. Valerian knows nothing about cultivation, yet, everything suggests that he is practising some sort of cultivation method.”
Richard paused with a slight frown on his face as if annoyed at having to say so much in one go but continued nonetheless. “I honestly cannot figure out how this came about. There is no way he could have started cultivating, even if all he was missing was a method, technique, knowledge, or a teacher and of these, he has none.”
The magistrate nodded slightly as each point was made, and when Richard was done he turned to Avery. The sword carrying childminder did not need the question to be voiced. He merely shrugged helplessly.
“I am afraid that I too am useless in this regard. The reason it took me so long to come to you was to make sure that what I was seeing was really happening. Even after watching for many days I am still not able to understand a
nything about how the young master is cultivating.”
The magistrate hummed thoughtfully, while stroking his beard. The other two men looked at each other. Their master was always like this. His actions made it clear that he had some idea as to what was happening, but he seemingly had to do this first. Richard looked at Avery and motioned with his head, leading him to sigh mentally and take this one.
“Could it be that you know something about this magistrate?”
The old magistrate paused his actions for a brief moment before continuing to stroke his beard. “I’m not sure whether I should say this... It is just a theory, mind you. One that cannot be truly confirmed. At least, not yet anyway.”
Knowing that he would end here if not given further prompts, Avery spoke up again. “I’m sure master’s theory is probably right. You have read wide, studied much, and experienced a lot. There’s no way such a thing would elude you. Please enlighten us”.
Valan paused again, gaining a slight faraway look as if considering it, and then continued, “Valerian knows no cultivating method. This we know to be true yet he has somehow entered the initial phase of the bone transformation stage. This, each of us has confirmed. So either we three are wrong or he is somehow cultivating without cultivating. In the end, the truth is simple. Despite how improbable it sounds, the answer lies with the latter. But how? That is the question, and the answer is simple. He has a special body.”
“It is instinctively strengthening itself using world essence. Luckily, such a situation is not wholly unheard of, though to my knowledge, this is the first instance of it happening in DaleGuard. There is only one thing that can create such a special physique and that is high tier legacy”.
“A high tier legacy...” Avery mumbled before realisation dawned on him. “His mother?”