First Light, page 19
Tayven and Brick looked at each other before simultaneously agreeing. “Deal.”
With that, they returned to eating and enjoying some light conversation before they had to move to their next class. Once they finished and went to the lecture hall, they all sat together at the front of the room. Other students slowly trickled in before class started, the professor entering last.
“Alright, class, let us begin. Today, we will have a discussion on the naming convention behind Volari specialties. Normally, Professor Lylah vas Mithra would hold this class, however, she had asked me to fill in today,” the man said before giving a slight nod and smile to Ven. “Nice to meet you all. I am Professor Martin and I normally instruct second- and third-years regarding Vendreyan History, Mathematics, and Vanguard Ethics.”
Everyone in class stood and gave the professor a respectful bow. Afterwards, he motioned for the class to be seated before continuing with his lecture. “Who can tell me what almost all Volari specialists are called?”
A small male student raised his hand in the back of the class. “Each specialty uses the suffix of ‘-weaver’, sir.”
“That is mostly correct. Anyone know why?”
This time, no one raised their hands. The lack of response resulted in Professor Martin releasing a resigned sigh. “It is because Volari ‘weave’ the Aura in the environment to suit their purposes. Awakened use the Crystallization of Aura that builds up in their bodies to release or use as pure energy, but Volari manipulate that which flows naturally through the environment.”
“So, when Lylah says she is a Stone-Weaver, that means she manipulates the Aura within rocks and stones?” another student asked.
“I would be careful how you address the professor, but you are essentially correct. I would also caution the use of the word ‘within’ in this context. Organic entities can contain excess Aura within internal wells as energy. However, in general, Aura simply exists as it is both within and is environment itself. There is a flow of sorts through objects as well.
“It is important to remember that Aura is what we’ve identified as a piece of the fabric of reality itself. It makes up matter, energy, everything. Volari are born with an innate understanding of the frequencies that Aura exists within. Some are tuned to the frequency that constructs rocks, some plants, and others are attuned to metal. There are types of weaving specialties that do not have to deal with matter at all. Anyone know of one?”
Ven raised her hand. As someone who had grown up in the Vanguard, Tayven figured that she knew of pretty famous example of a non-matter related weaver. “Sound-Weaver. They can amplify or negate sound. Some can even manipulate the pitch and tone of sounds to make them or someone else sound completely different. Lady Kyndra of the Vanguard is one of those.”
“That is correct, Ven. Another well-known example is a Shadow-Weaver. These frightening specialists can bend the very essence of light and dark to make themselves invisible to the naked eye. As the name suggests, these types of specialists are usually known for infiltration and assassination,” Martin affirmed.
“Professor Martin, if I may,” a student asked. “Why do we refer to Volari who specialize in healing as clerics and not Flesh-Weavers or Blood-Weavers or something?”
Professor Martin’s face darkened, as if remembering something extremely unpleasant. “Flesh-Weavers exist. As do Blood-Weavers. Though Volari clerics use many of the same techniques that those others do, the difference in the name has to do with how they choose to use their abilities. Clerics reject the abhorrent possibilities that their abilities present, while flesh and Blood-Weavers relish in it. When you get into upper-level coursework, we will discuss that topic in greater detail. For now, I hope you don’t run into someone willingly using those titles.”
After that, class continued as normal, though Professor Martin’s demeanor was a lot colder after the student’s question. It was clear to Tayven that it was more than just the knowledge of what Flesh-Weavers could do. Professor Martin must have directly seen it. Honestly sounds terrifying. Maybe I should stay on the clerics’ good sides. How about I deliver them a bottle of wine as a thank you? He decided that being friends with their medical staff was suddenly a fantastic idea.
Chapter Eighteen
Dannon
“Aw, come on, Dannon! I just want a little more target practice!” Rune whined. Dannon was having none of it. His precious baby Gerty had been injured in combat almost a month ago by the absolute heathen named Rune. The day after his big ‘incident’ they had gone out to do a scouting mission in some areas where bandits had suddenly abandoned their encampments.
Since Rune had been recovering, and there was still a risk of relapse, Dannon had lent him his most prized possession in the world so he could take it easy. Everything went well until the sinner slid down an embankment and dropped Gerty!
“Absolutely not!” Dannon shouted. “You hurt her. Look. See this scratch here? It is all because of you! It didn’t ‘buff out’ like you said it would. Take responsibility for your actions, you devil in human skin!”
Teryn and Jeruul could not help but laugh at their friend’s antics. To them, it was a big joke, but Dannon was serious about not letting Rune have his weapon again. He was not actually mad at him, but he definitely did not want a repeat of what had happened. It had taken a lot of effort to get that old Volari trader to let go of a repeating crossbow. They were very hard to find outside of the island nation and nothing like it could be replicated in the Faradin Kingdom. A seemingly innocuous tumble could cause the sensitive inner-workings becoming jumbled. If that happened, Gerty would become a glorified paperweight.
“Don’t worry, Dannon,” Rune said calmly. “If something happens to it, I’ll take it to Locke. I am sure my father could fix it. He is a Wanderer and probably the best blacksmith in the kingdom.”
“Alright, but you are buying me more polish!” Dannon growled.
The group was spending time in a small town called Lakeside. Traveling by land only would have had the group go past Jelmoore, but thankfully, there was a boat that would take travelers to the town from across the lake. This cut the trip by half. Their reason for being in this small fishing village was yet another scouting mission.
Bandit attacks on merchant caravans and travelers had dropped in the area lately and no one could figure out why. It was not as though hundreds of bandits had suddenly changed their ways and returned to normal lives in local villages.
This scouting mission was the fifth one that Dannon and his friends had gone on since the first one a few weeks before. At every site, it looked like the Bandits had purposefully packed up and left. They were not in a hurry, either. Nothing valuable was left behind, the only signs of habitation being firepits, abandoned junk, and the latrines they had dug.
It was great that attacks and ambushes were down, but it was also concerning that there seemed to be a mass exodus of some kind occurring. There were less bandit hunting jobs available, too. So, it was not the result of any Vanguard group, nor was it the result of any collaboration between noble families and the military.
“I really just don’t like this,” Teryn mumbled while sifting through another pile of garbage, hoping to find some clue. “Just the amount of people that have up and vanished is strange. I know they aren’t stupid enough to try to enter the Greatwood. So, where in Chaos’s name did they go?”
“I don’t know,” Jeruul answered. “Our job is only to look for clues and share any information we find.”
Jeruul’s statement was cut off by an arrow whistling past his head. It sank into the ground behind him, having just barely grazed his cheek. The assailant was a rough-looking man in the tree line holding a worn-out looking hunting bow.
“Bandits! Looks like we caught these guys before they could leave!” Dannon shouted, bringing Gerty to a ready position.
Teryn and Rune jumped into a ready position with Rune standing between her and the trees with his shield at the ready. Jeruul also quickly jumped to his feet, held up his shield, and stood between the trees and Dannon. Dannon trained his sights on the archer and fired off three bolts in rapid succession. One sank into the trunk of a tree while another found purchase on the man’s shoulder and then neck. Blood sprayed wildly from the wound, having ripped open a major artery.
“Well, we won’t be taking that one alive,” Rune mumbled. Dannon realized by the look on his face that Rune had probably not killed a person before. Killing people was never easy. Though their party had fought and killed bandits in the past, it was not really something someone got used to. He’ll have to get over it.
Several cries rang out as six additional men charged out of the woods at the group. Dannon quickly fired additional arrows, but two of the bandits appeared to be Shielders. They shouted “Barrier!” in unison. Two glowing walls of light formed in front of them and their comrades as they charged.
Teryn’s eyes glowed, and she waved her hand. Blades of grass started to grow and wrap around the enemy’s feet, but nothing really stood up to the charge. “By Chaos! Again? What is it with my weaving lately?”
As the Bandits moved closer and closer, their barriers flickered before they suddenly shattered, as if made of glass. The surprised look on one Shielder’s face told him they had not expected their defenses to fail. Dannon tried to ready one of his Pulser attacks, but felt the Aura gathering in his hands dissipate while it formed. Before he could call out a warning to the others, the attackers had already reached them.
Three men rushed Dannon and Jeruul with wild swings. Since the twins were well trained, the first attacks were easy to deflect. Jeruul took two of the men, while Dannon took the third. Dannon stepped to the left side of his brother and lunged forward with one of his daggers, drawing the third man’s attention. From the corner of his eye, Dannon spotted his friends similarly dividing the workload. Teryn had taken one, while Rune took the other two.
Even though Dannon was facing off against his own foe, he could not help but be distracted by seeing Rune fight. In between the clashing of steel, he watched as his friend seemed to dance across the battlefield. It was entrancing; unlike any fighting he had witnessed. Every battle seemed different, as if Rune’s specialty had no specific movements. The young man adapted to his opponent’s every step. Since the Razortusk fight, he rarely provoked attacks, preferring to respond and adapt as he had done every time before.
Dannon continued to clash with his enemy as they desperately probed each other's defenses. Eventually, he found a small opening that provided him with a small window to disengage and stab one of his brother’s opponents in the back of the neck. Unfortunately, the blade was caught in the spinal cord, so Dannon had to release his hold on the weapon in order to recover in time to dodge his own opponent’s next attack. He jumped to the left in time to narrowly avoid a deadly swing. As he sidestepped the blade, it slashed down the back of the bandit with a knife in his neck instead of Dannon.
“Sorry ‘bout ‘ya, bud!” Dannon laughed as he danced away, hiding the fact that he had gulped from the close call. Now he was down to only one dagger, which put him at a slight disadvantage compared to his enemy’s longsword. Jeruul bashed the person in front of him with his shield, then pierced his belly.
After doing so, he rushed up behind the man facing Dannon and roared a battle cry. The bandit spun around to face the oncoming young man, but before he could bring his sword up to block, Dannon rushed up and slammed the hilt of his weapon into the bandit’s temple. Once Dannon drew back, the bandit collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Good one, brother,” Dannon managed between gasps. He glanced over to their comrades who had already dispatched their three.
“How in the fucking hell do you do that, Rune?” Teryn asked. She was once again referencing the strangest thing about the boy. That the longer a fight lasted, the stronger and faster he seemed to get.
“Yeah, I agree. I don’t know what in the gods’ names your father taught you, but I want to learn it if it’s going to do that for me,” Jeruul commented. Teryn had a conflicted expression on her face, but Dannon let it be.
“Ha! As if, brother!” Dannon laughed. “Clearly, I am more suited to the combat style. Your massive sword and shield are too clunky for moving around like that.” Teryn nodded in agreement, but was also looking at her own equipment, as if silently wondering if she could pull it off herself.
“You guys are crazy. It’s just adrenaline,” Rune muttered quietly. His face was pale and eyes wide. Blood painted the front of his armor and dripped down his blade. Not an unfamiliar sight, but definitely an unfamiliar source. Dannon pat him on the back gently. First kills were never easy, something he had learned some time ago.
“All of us have adrenaline pumping through us right now, but you… You know what, never mind. How many times have we had this argument? Let’s just tie up the survivor here and ready him for questioning,” Jeruul mumbled. Even with his infinite grace, he was tiring of Rune’s humility.
A few hours after the battle, the party of four sat around a small fire with their prisoner slowly coming back to consciousness. With the other bandits dead and their corpses burned, all that was left was to interrogate the lone survivor. Hopefully, he was someone who might finally give them the answers they had been looking for. At first, the man struggled against his bindings, but quickly learned that there was no means of escape.
“What d‘ya want from me, eh? Bunch’a fancy Vanguard brats…” he finally shouted out.
“We want to know what all of you brigands have been up to lately. Known encampments have been left abandoned all around, and while normally, we would be happy to see you lot vanish, something isn’t quite adding up,” Jeruul questioned. His tone came off rather dangerous, and the constant tightening of his grip on his sword’s hilt helped get across that he was not playing games.
“What’s it matter, anyway? You’re gonna kill me either way,” the man groaned.
“Well. If you share what you know, it will be quick. If not, then…” Jeruul trailed off while Teryn stepped forward with her eyes glowing. Dannon watched as the prisoner slowly turned his head after feeling something soft brush against his cheek. A single blade of grass had grown from the ground and rubbed itself on his face before slowly lowering itself and wrapping around his neck. Additional strands of plant material swirled around the first, twisting into a sickly green tendril.
Sweat dripped down the man’s brow and his breath became ragged as the plant wrapped itself around his throat once, then twice. Additional ropes of foliage tugged at his fingers, pulling them towards the back of his hand until the skin became taught; a less than subtle threat. He shouted, “Alright! Alright, I’ll tell you. Just make it quick. I don’t know much. The last boss was the one who did all the dealing.”
“Dealing with who?”
“I don’t know. Some scary woman. She threw the boss a bag of money and asked us to gather up and meet somewhere. I don’t know where, though. My mates and I, we killed the boss in his sleep and took the money for ourselves.”
“Where’s the money?”
“I don’t know! The night after we took out the boss, we heard this weird laugh, and the bag vanished right in front of our eyes. That was a few days ago,” the man explained.
He relaxed slightly when the plant shrank back into the ground. Teryn was flexing her fist and looking strangely at the ground. Every once in a while, she would glance at Rune, who had been glaring icily at the prisoner without a word. No trace of the shock remained on his friend’s face. His expression shifted to a cold, calculating gaze, similar to the one he'd worn while fighting Bordo or brutalizing the Razortusk. Looking once more at Teryn, Dannon could have sworn that she was blushing, if only slightly. Interesting… Dannon thought, amused.
“We hid just inside the woods the last few days because we didn’t know if the woman would come back and collect our heads along with the money,” the bandit explained.
“Well, she won’t have to now, will she?” Jeruul stated plainly. With a flash of metal, his sword was no longer in its sheathe and instead glinted in the sunlight, the tip on the opposite side of the bandit’s neck. The prisoner’s eyes widened and his mouth moved slightly before his head smacked the ground with a wet thud.
“Damn, brother, that was brutal…but hey!” Dannon changed his expression to a joyful smile and gave a thumbs up to the group. “At least we are one mission closer to our Rank-up job!”
Vincent
Aman with a massive frame and bulging arms sat in a luxurious suede chair, sipping tea. He wore a fine suit that only barely contained his form. He squinted his eyes mischievously at the woman in the room as he read through a notice on his desk. After gently placing the cup on a plate, he passed the letter to Anna and then picked up another document.
The gentle, lukewarm air of early fall filled the room, courtesy of an open window. Sumnuthras was over and with it, so too was the summer weather. This new season’s chillier air and changing leaves meant winter was fast approaching. With only a scant amount of time until the cold season arrived, the already hard to locate answers they searched for would become even harder to come by.
“What do you make of this, Anna?” the man asked.
“Master Vincent, I do not know.” Anna replied. She stood tall, proud, and confident, with a single longsword on her hip. Green hair hung in a tight braid over her shoulder. “The mobilization of these…people, is concerning. We have the Vanguard Halls of Tennfeld, Jilt, Jelmoore, and Hilden posting jobs to find all the information we can. Since most of them are simply scouting offers and not hunting jobs, we have reported difficulty in getting them completed.”
“Ah, yes, I imagine the other Halls are struggling. Most people who will take these things are newer groups trying to bust into the D-Rank by simply fulfilling their quota for a ranking test. Veterans are too proud to take them and those already in D-Rank are too eager to prove themselves in combat,” Vincent complained. “Though I heard that a few months ago, a small party captured a bandit alive and got some information. Other than that singular incident, no new information came about regarding who seems to hire groups of ruffians or why?”
