First Light, page 31
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Erich seemed unsurprised and waved at his guard to let the guest in. Standing in the doorway was a tall, lithe woman with short, purple hair and purple eyes so deep in hue they were almost black. She wore a black cloak that cascaded down her back, ending just above the knee. Beneath the cloak was a set of studded leather armor and a saber on one hip. She waved at the two men, revealing a strange pair of gloves that covered the back of her hands and left the tips of her fingers and her palms bare.
“Erich! Vincent! How glad I am to see you two bastards spending time together. A strange sight to see after…” The woman laughed.
“Kyndra, good to see you are doing well. As energetic as ever,” Vincent interrupted with a smile. Erich’s face held a much darker expression.
“Kyndra.”
“Oh, Erich, is that the kind of look you give a friend? Such an icy glare,” Kyndra stated with a condescending grin that did not seem to reach her eyes. Vincent unconsciously shuddered. Tensions rose for a moment before Kyndra herself shattered it. “Besides! You were the one who invited me!”
The fearsome woman stepped past both Anna and the other guard to sit in a chair next to Vincent. Normally, a Hall Master would have bowed to the Commander of Fort Black, but Kyndra hated formalities, so he kept himself from doing so. She was a loose cannon who normally stayed in the fort, and the only way to keep her from firing off was to cater to her unique proclivities.
“Welcome, Kyndra,” Erich stated plainly. He was one of the few people who could get away with behaving and saying anything he wanted around the woman. “We were discussing the Reaver, Rune.”
“Ah, yes. Him. My sister is handling him, so I am considering it not my problem. Fort Black is filled with monstrous fighters more impressive than him.” Kyndra said while cleaning dirt from beneath her fingers. “I find myself curious, but he needs more time before he completely catches my interest. Variant or no.”
Vincent exhaled a relieved sigh, knowing the woman would not attempt to kidnap Rune. He also could not really disagree with her logic especially since she was one of the monsters she mentioned. As a Sound-Weaver, one of the three Commanders of the Vanguard, and an S-Ranker, only the truly strong deserved her interest. Her job was to maintain Fort Black and keep the numbers of monsters in the Forest of Ruin from rising too high and overwhelming the kingdom. Some of the most dangerous and insane warriors of the Vanguard on the continent called the place their home. Among them, Rune would be a copper a dozen even with his natural talent and inherent abilities.
“Besides, I got my hand on a class just as rare… though they aren’t a Variant like the boy.”
Erich’s stone-faced expression finally cracked. “A Shaper? Truly?”
How in the gods’ names did she find one?
Kyndra ignored Erich’s question. She smiled at Vincent as if she could read his thoughts. She knew he was just as curious as Erich but still declined to provide any answers. “Hey, wanna spar, Vincent? For old time’s sake? I’ll tell you everything if you win.”
“Absolutely not,” Vincent answered immediately. “Such information isn’t worth my life. Fight with Erich if you need to let off steam.”
“Come on, you are no fun. I can’t fight Erich. If I kill him by accident, then the other Commanders and the council will cut my pay,” she retorted with a pout. Vincent gulped.
He remembered the last time he had witnessed Kyndra fight. Sound-Weavers were terrifyingly deadly because their weapon was the manipulation of sound itself. She could silence any sound around her completely, amplify it, and even manipulate the directionality. The special gloves she wore were designed with her abilities in mind. Once, when Vincent visited the Forest of Ruin with a party from Fort Black, he had watched how a simple snap of her fingers liquified a monster’s insides.
“Well, if all you wanted to do was talk about the Reaver brat, then I will take my leave. This was quite the waste of time, Erich. I’m disappointed in you,” Kyndra complained.
If only she knew who his father was. Vincent kept that piece of knowledge to himself. To do otherwise would be to dance further into Death’s embrace.
“I did not bring you here for the boy. I have a favor to ask,” Erich told her. “I wanted you to allow me to shelter my sons in your fort.”
“Eh?” Kyndra blinked. “You want me to babysit your brats and the little bastard? I don’t think so.”
“No, just my oldest four, and you can put them to any kind of work. Latrine duty, cleaning, the kitchens, anything. Please consider this repayment for that favor you owe me.”
Kyndra groaned. “Fine! I’ll take them in. But they are also going to be joining our daily training. So, if they get hurt during drills, don’t cry to me. And why not the youngest one? Don’t care if the bastard dies, eh?”
Dies? Vincent looked inquisitively at the lord across the table.
Erich said nothing and slid a document across his desk towards Kyndra. After reading it, she had a confused look on her face. Vincent accepted the document from her after she passed it to him. It was a letter addressed to Tayven informing him of his disinheritance of all titles, land, and coin of the Nefera family, also disbarring him from further referring to himself as Tayven Nefera. Upon receipt of the letter, Tayven was no longer considered a noble.
“Is this really something you want to do?” Vincent questioned. Anger rose in his chest, pouring out through his words. “His mother would turn over in her grave if you go through with this.”
Erich nodded. “I already sent a letter to her family. They have been informed of my reasons. This is the best way to protect him. I sent out a similar letter to all the noble houses in Faradin. Once the one bound for the castle arrives, it will be considered formally announced that Tayven is no longer of house Nefera and has no claims now or in the future on our property.”
“You expect the kingdom to wipe out your house, huh?” Kyndra asked.
Erich nodded. Vincent continued to breathe slowly to calm the rage, sending his heart wild. They sat together for a while longer. Vincent was not excited to deliver the news to Tayven, but he figured he should have expected it when Erich ordered Tayven’s attendant to leave the boy’s side. At least he would have time to figure out how to address this news with the boy, since his party had left on a mission to Locke.
“Fine, if that is how you wish this to shake out, then do what you will,” Kyndra growled. “I will take your children under my charge for a time. I will take my leave and have your staff bring me to them.” Kyndra stood abruptly, the scraping of the chair on the floor grating on Vincent’s ears.
Just before she slammed the door closed behind her, she said in a barely audible whisper, “You fool.”
Vincent turned to face his friend. The calm expression on Erich’s face returned. The man had resigned himself to whatever Fate had in store for him. There was so much that Vincent wanted to say, but the words escaped him. All he could manage was, “You’re really willing to just roll over and die? After everything?”
“I do what I must. I don’t need anyone to understand, and I don’t need anyone to agree with my methods.” Erich turned to face him fully for the first time. An old smile that had long since vanished from Erich after the death of Tayven’s mother had suddenly returned. “Death is but a step in one’s journey, my friend. No matter how painful, after everything I’ve done, it is only right. Come what may, all will be right in the end. It is what I’ve been promised.”
Chapter Thirty
Tayven
After almost a week and a half of travel, the newly named First Light approached the outskirts of a small mining village. The first thing they noticed was the smell of soot from the many blacksmiths in the village. Curiously, Tayven had learned that most of the blacksmiths did not actually work on weapons or armor, but refined ore into shippable bars. Also, despite the village’s diminutive size, it maintained a steady flow of traffic from various trading caravans.
The small village of Locke was surrounded by little more than a shoulder-high wall of stones in most places. Some spots had fallen into disrepair, with massive gaps in the stone, replaced by simple wooden fencing. For a place with such great importance to the country, Tayven found it strange the town was not more developed.
The guards at the entrance to the village waved the group through after seeing Rune amongst the arrivals and allowed them to skip the entry line. Because of the amount of people attempting to enter the village at once, neither of them could greet Rune, despite looking like they desperately wanted to see what the boy had been up to.
This behavior left Tayven with a fond smile. He did not know his new comrade very well yet, but that so many of the villagers seemed to look upon him kindly improved Tayven’s opinion of him. Every rule had an exception, however. A very rotund man wearing fine clothing was moving from stall to stall. He was obviously the wealthiest of the people purchasing goods for the day. While the group moved through the main pathway which the stalls lined, they came face to face with him. The man turned immediately sour at the sight of the group.
“Guess someone’s having a bad day,” Teryn joked as she stuck her tongue out at the man’s back, now turned toward.
“Not everyone is required to be cheery all the time you know,” Ven stated sarcastically. “Case in point.”
Ven hiked a thumb at a few other people who seemed to be in a foul mood and arguing with a shady-looking merchant in one of the stalls. Teryn responded with a small grunt. This made Tayven shake his head at them. They had traveled all the way from Jelmoore to Locke in one straight go, not even stopping in a town for more than a night’s rest out of the cold. The entire way Teryn and Ven had offered each other little jabs. It was impossible to tell if it was in jest or if they genuinely did not like each other.
Thankfully, the behavior did not impact the group’s fighting capabilities. In fact, the two girls worked together exceptionally well. Ven had started to really shine with her archery skills in both long and midrange battles, and Teryn kept her safe, operating in the midrange by slowing or stopping enemies in their tracks to let Ven finish them. Rune also showcased more of his sword skills, which made Tayven feel like he was even further behind than when they had sparred.
He had learned that Rune was actually accustomed to using a shortsword with a small buckler fastened to his bracers instead of the longsword he had dueled with when they first met. Because his own specialty lay in the longsword, having lost handily when he really had a modicum of an advantage… it had deflated his ego just a little. Brick also could show off his prowess as a brawler. He had recently adapted to using strength-enhancing techniques at the point of impact, thus conserving his Aura.
Between the three E-Rankers, Brick seemed to have the best control over his abilities. Ven had been practicing as well, but as a Pulser, her abilities overlapped with her focus on the bow. So, she mostly used her abilities as a quick counter if an enemy broke the line and closed in on her. Unlike Brick, Tayven could only use his Enhancements in a sustained manner, so he either had to finish the fight quickly or risk becoming exhausted. Tayven also lacked the skill required to silently activate his abilities, for now. That was not the end of the world, but it limited his versatility in some ways.
“Here we are,” Rune stated, bringing Tayven out of his thoughts.
In front of them stood a simple home with smoke rising out of the chimney. Diagonally behind the house was an open-air smithy. Inside it were people hammering away at a weapon. Metallic clangs clearly hid their arrival from the blacksmiths, as neither reacted to their approach. The door to the cottage opened and a comely woman stepped out into the daylight. She was holding a tray with a pitcher of some sort of pale-yellow liquid, which was immediately dropped as she screeched and ran towards the group.
“Arkrune! My baby boy!” she yelped as she almost tackled the poor boy to the ground. “I did not know you were coming! Oh, you should have written to tell me! I could have prepared more lemonade for you all! We just got a crate of preserved ones in from a trader who visited Volar!”
Suddenly, her face took on an embarrassed hue as she turned around and witnessed the shattered pitcher and glasses on the ground behind her. Rune smiled gently at the woman and returned her embrace. While the two hugged, the duo in the forge stepped out to witness the commotion. They both had purple-colored eyes, of which the smaller of the two were glowing. The man had broad shoulders and silver hair like Rune and the girl, who was small, yet toned, shared the hair color of the woman currently squeezing the life out of Rune.
“Brother! You’re back! Who are these people? Is this your party? What have you been up to? It’s been a while since you last wrote to us! I’ve given all your letters you wrote for Tara to her!” The girl joined the woman, who was clearly Rune’s mother, in hugging the defenseless young man. Her endless stream of questions overwhelming Rune.
“Alright, alright. Lydia, Ulma, release the poor boy,” the man said while clapping his hands together. “It’s a long way from Jelmoore to Locke. I’m sure he and his friends are tired!” After he finished speaking, his eyes flashed, and he scanned over the entire group. Momentarily, his eyes landed on Teryn who avoided his focused gaze.
“Yes! Please come in! Oh, my! It’s so great to have you home!” Rune’s mother turned to enter the house.
Everyone quickly gathered inside the common area of the small home while the woman, Lydia, made more lemonade for her guests. Tayven could not keep his eyes off the girl, Ulma. He had had many girls who were interested in him in the past, but something about this one drew his attention. She was pretty and strong. It was the strength and ferocity he saw behind her eyes that attracted him to her. Unfortunately, the man—who Tayven had discovered was Rune’s father—caught on to Tayven’s glances and placed himself between the noble and his daughter.
Even Rune noticed what had happened, which made him give Tayven a raised eyebrow. Tayven could feel the sweat form and run down his back. Gods. The first girl that actually seems interesting, and it had to be Rune’s sister. And she had to have this man for a father. Gods, Vickar looks terrifying. He thought as he glanced at Vickar’s muscled form. Being a blacksmith guaranteed a powerful physique, but Tayven’s instincts screamed that there was a lot more to it than that. If he was the one who taught Rune to fight, what did that say about the man himself?
“Anyway, Arkrune. What brings you home? You haven’t said!” Lydia cleared her throat to break the awkward tension that had formed. This made Brick, Ven, and Teryn giggle at Tayven’s expense. Lydia seemed to be rather astute.
“I had to. Also, there are some things I haven’t shared in my letters. Master Vincent and Professor Lylah vas Mithra asked me not to, in case they were intercepted,” Rune said slowly. “I’ve fully Awakened my class.”
Lydia gasped with joy, but that was not shared by the rest of the family. Tayven could not understand why, but Rune’s statement left a concerned look on Vickar's and Ulma’s faces. To prove his point, Rune stood and drew his special alderite blade. Now that he had Awakened, he could use it without need for an alderite core. He unscrewed the core, then fed Aura into the blade, causing it to glow and hum. He spun it around in a few small arcs, leaving a trail of light behind it as it moved. With a flourish, he returned the sword to its sheathe and screwed the core back onto the hilt.
“And what is your class, son?” Vickar inquired with a carefully measured tone. By this point, even Lydia’s excitement had been tempered—if only slightly. She was just as confused as the rest of the people in the room about why her husband and daughter were not excited about Rune’s success. Ven’s face started turning red in clear indignation at them for seeming so dismissive about their son’s breakthrough.
Rune silently refused to answer as he stepped away and walked outside. The house followed him without a word. They continued to walk a few hundred feet from the home when Rune put up a hand to stop everyone. He took a few more steps, clearing away a small area from a light dusting of snow. He turned around and crouched on the ground with one hand touching the grass. The other grabbed the hilt of his alderite sword. “Area Drain.”
A circle of grass, about three or four feet in diameter, started to brown and die. In the blink of an eye, the grass within the circle turned from brown to black before disintegrating into dust. Purple Aura, which was normally invisible to non-Volari crystalized in front of everyone and flowed into the boy’s hand before traveling up his arm, across his chest, and down into the sword, charging up the alderite core on its pommel.
“Father, I am a Reaver.” Rune took a sharp breath. “And, according to my professor, a Variant.”
“I see,” Vickar stated as though he were completely unsurprised. “I thought as much.”
Ven, whose face was still red, could not hold it in any longer. “You thought as much?” she shouted at Vickar. “You mean to tell me you already knew what Rune was and you let him wander on his own to figure it out without giving him some form of hope that he had a class? Do you know how embarrassed he was to be the only Awakened in Hilden who couldn’t use his own sword without the help of others?”
Ven spent the next minute yelling and screaming at Vickar, who accepted it without complaint. Even Lydia did not intervene because she too seemed annoyed that her husband could have helped Rune understand his potential situation more.
“Ven. Stop it.” Rune said quietly. He glanced around the party, the emptiness in his eyes that Tayven had grown used to slowly disappearing. “I’m going to go see Tara.” He turned and headed back into town. Everything about his body language screamed that he did not want anyone to follow him.
“Sir Vickar, if I may, why did you not inform Rune of your suspicions? At least a small hint would have been helpful to him, I imagine,” Brick asked calmly. He did not seem to want to add to the fire that was Ven’s rage.
