Verigenesis: Bounty (Rifthunters Book 1), page 3
Nate knew his own burgeoning reputation within the guild and was certain they did too. He’d lost count of how many squads he and Wes had been reassigned to at this point. Was it five; maybe six?
He leaned back, fidgeting with the wood on the bench’s arm. His plan had been risky, sure, but he stood by his decision to stay and fight. The Immortals had brought them here from Earth to prove themselves worthy of the gift of verigenesis. The only way they’d ever live up to those expectations was if they consistently pushed themselves to their absolute limits.
Besides, even if they’d run, there was no guarantee they’d have all made it out safely. And the ferroceros certainly would’ve been ready for them when they returned. What happened to Wes sucked, but Nate was sure his friend would understand. The commander, though, was another matter entirely.
Nate breathed deeply, redirecting his attention back onto the bench to distract him from his troubled thoughts. The polished wood had been forged to resemble tangled vines that flowed seamlessly into the seat’s back before splitting apart into flattened blossoms.
Somehow, knowing veristry had created such beauty made the entire construction all the more alluring. Even after almost two years in the Nexus, Nate still marveled at what people accomplished with their newfound powers.
What would he be capable of once he’d advanced another year? Or another ten? What about once he’d reached the heights of the Immortals who had brought them all here?
“Just so you know,” Sandra said, jerking Nate out of his reverie, “I plan to report to Commander Grisham that our mission was a success. Despite…well, despite what happened to Wes.”
Beside her, Dale nodded curtly. “We got the job done, after all. Neither of us see a reason to ruffle any more feathers.”
Nate tried to hide his surprise. He’d expected the two of them to throw him to the proverbial wolves, perhaps even request reassignment as their predecessors had. Not to go out of their way to protect him.
“Thanks,” he finally said. “I appreciate it. But why would you do that? You both made your objections to my plan perfectly clear.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Dale said. “I still think you acted like a reckless fool. It’s a miracle you didn’t get yourself reclaimed along with Wes.”
“But in the end,” Sandra added, “we’re a team. Your methods may have been a bit…unorthodox, but they worked. Maybe the guild’s better off with a few harebrained schemes once in a while.”
Dale grunted at that and shot Nate a meaningful look. “That said, too many reclamations has a way of taking its toll on a person. I’d rather not lose my mind if it’s all the same to you. Don’t make a habit of ignoring the advice of your squadmates or getting us killed, and we won’t have any cause to complain.”
Nate nodded mutely, though he recognized the thinly veiled threat in Dale’s words: mess up again and we won’t be so quick to forgive. Well, so be it.
He had nothing against Dale and Sandra; however, he had no intention of slowing down his advancement on their behalf. He and Wes had been watching each other’s backs since their early days as Initiates two years ago. As long as they stuck together, the rest mattered nil.
Soft footsteps signaled a new arrival from the surrounding ring of trees. Nate looked up just in time to see a man emerge. Well-dressed in a fine suit, Bastion wore his black hair slicked back from his rounded face. He paused just within the clearing, regarding them with cruel eyes.
Cracks radiated out from his pupils, lending them the appearance of shattered glass. Similar jagged lines traced their way up the backs of his hands and across his face, vanishing beneath his suit.
“Greetings, Master Hernandez and Mistress Yang. If you would be so kind as to follow, Commander Grisham will speak with you now.”
As usual, Nate had to suppress an eye roll when interacting with Bastion. He knew it was a terrible idea to risk upsetting the soulweaver, especially when Bastion was one of the commander’s favored lieutenants. But he just couldn’t help it.
Bastion was one of those verists who’d assumed an alias upon entering the Nexus, fully embracing this world and the Immortals’ more formal way of speaking. Such verists claimed that this fresh start aided them in communing with their guides.
Personally, Nate found the whole charade pretentious. The Immortals would judge them by their deeds, not by how they talked or what they called themselves.
Dale and Sandra offered the man their own polite greetings and rose to follow. When Nate tried to stand, however, Bastion scowled at him.
“Doesn’t Commander Grisham want to speak with me too?” Nate demanded.
“The commander only wishes to meet with these two presently. You shall wait here until the commander deigns to speak with you.”
Nate’s worry deepened. It couldn’t be a good sign that Commander Grisham was interrogating them separately. Did she already suspect something had happened?
He considered protesting the decision, but knew it would get him nowhere. Sandra shot him a pitying look. Then the three of them vanished into the forest.
There was nothing to do now but wait. Unfortunately, Nate didn’t cope well with idleness; he’d take a ferocious verabeast to slay or a hazardous sector to navigate any day.
After a few minutes of restless pacing, Nate plopped back onto the intricately forged bench and closed his eyes. Maybe a bit of attunement would help calm his nerves.
He began cycling through the meditative technique he’d learned when he first underwent verigenesis. The process was slow at first, his roiling emotions interfering with his attempts to clear his mind.
Eventually, he felt himself sinking down into the familiar state. It was a bit like becoming untethered from his corporeal form, as if he were peering down on himself from the outside.
He noted the striations of blue and red that swirled over his skin like tattoos, as well as the twin flames that burned within each pupil: one a fiery red and the other an icy blue.
The physical manifestation of his elements had begun with his eyes, as was most common for weavers. From there, it had spread to his skin. As he advanced in verigenesis, these changes would become only more pronounced. That made each additional phase of his transformation a point of pride since it represented how far he’d progressed toward mastering his powers.
Nate focused his attention away from his appearance, shifting his gaze inward. Usually when he attuned, it was to draw upon ambient thermal essence to replenish his reserve.
Since they’d already attuned to restore their vera after the battle with the ferroceros, he instead allowed himself to drift on the threads of essence that surged through him in a strange juxtaposition of contradictory forces.
Fire blazed past in a frenetic inferno that left the blood pounding hotly in his veins, heightening his every fleeting emotion until the slightest sensation was almost overwhelming.
At the same time, ice flowed in a cool river alongside the flames, shifting so slowly that the movement was almost imperceptible. When Nate allowed himself to drift along these frozen eddies, everything stilled to the icy perfection of immutable logic.
Some heatweavers like Wes opted to embrace a particular element within their domain, but Nate had always striven to strike a balance between the fire and ice affinities available to him through thermal veristry. After all, why give up any potential weapon in your arsenal?
It was an unending battle with himself to maintain this delicate equilibrium. When he managed it, as he gradually did now, it felt like the conflicting forces collided and dispersed so that he hovered in the middle of a vast nothingness, perhaps even the Null itself.
It was easy to lose himself in that state, to let his consciousness drift away without anything to hold it tethered. Through sheer force of will, Nate centered his mind back on his body.
After the essence he’d gained from the ferroceros, he was close to his current capacity. Just a few more missions, and he’d be ready to advance to the fifth rank of the Apprentice tier.
That would put him on the cusp of reaching Journeyman and joining those elite verists who had ascended beyond the Mortal Stage to the Heroic Stage of verigenesis. Then no one would be able to dismiss or sideline him. He’d finally start becoming the hero that the Judge had seen in him two years prior.
Nate could still remember the translucent man with the stern face who had appeared in his bedroom like a waking dream. The Judge had been a soulbinder, reaching out to Nate across realms via his psychic veristry. He’d shown Nate visions of wondrous vistas and demonstrated the awesome power of verigenesis.
Then, like all the potential verists he’d visited, the Judge had offered Nate a choice: to continue his mundane life on Earth with no memory of what he’d seen, or to leave his world behind and aid the Immortals in their search for their lost home. Nate had chosen the path of a hero, and he’d never looked back.
As he contemplated his journey, Nate sensed an alien intelligence lurking within his vera flows. A flurry of excitement almost upset his delicate equilibrium. It was rare at the Mortal Stage to feel one’s guide, and Nate had yet to develop a deep enough bond to do anything beyond occasionally sense its gaze.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder in such moments if his quick advancement pleased his guide. Was it proud of the human it had empowered with its elemental bond? It was impossible for him to say, but just knowing it was there, watching over him, always made him feel less alone.
That momentary sense of connection with his guide faded as quickly as it had come. Trying to lessen his disappointment, Nate distracted himself by tracing the lines of vera branching through his body, identifying where each of the twenty-eight condensed accumulations of essence had fused.
Most were bound to enhance Nate’s Power, strengthening his physical prowess even as they bolstered the sheer force of his veristry. He’d delegated the rest to Speed, quickening how fast he could move, react, and cast his weaves.
There were eight aspects a verist could choose to heighten when they gained new vera, but Nate hadn’t bothered investing in any of the others. He’d figured that he who strikes first and strikes hardest typically strikes last.
Lately, however, he’d wondered if perhaps he’d been wrong to neglect the other aspects. Finesse certainly would’ve improved his accuracy against the ferroceros, while Resolve might’ve boosted his concentration when trying to juggle complex infusions and multiple spells. He would need to—
Something cracked just beside Nate, loud enough to shatter his grip on attunement and jerk him back to reality. Ending attunement without proper meditation could be incredibly disorienting, and the trees about him spun as he struggled to adjust to the sudden shift in perspective.
The world slowly came into focus enough for Nate to notice Bastion standing beside him, a condescending smile plastered across his face. The nil-eater probably snapped a branch or something on purpose.
“If you are back with us, Master Carter, Commander Grisham is ready to speak with you.” The way Bastion emphasized the word somehow made the action sound laced with latent threat. Bastion’s smile widened when he saw Nate’s unease.
Nate resisted the urge to hurl a Fire Bolt into the soulweaver’s smug face. Instead, he dutifully rose and followed Bastion out of the clearing. He might as well get this over with.
Chapter 4
Bastion led Nate onto a dirt path through the trees. His other issues with the guildmaster aside, Nate had to hand it to her: she sure had chosen a beautiful sector for the Riftwalker headquarters. With its abundance of vital and primal essences, the place was a true paradise.
Dappled light filtered down through the leaves. Birds chirped as they flitted past, and Nate heard other furrier denizens of the forest rustling about in the undergrowth. It was what Nate imagined forests back on Earth must look like free of human influence.
Bastion remained silent, and Nate was perfectly happy to avoid striking up a conversation. His thoughts were all occupied with the coming meeting. He had no idea if Wes had returned yet. If he had, then Commander Grisham would definitely know he’d been reclaimed, if not precisely why.
Would Sandra and Dale keep their promise? Or would they crack under the pressure and spill the beans to the guildmaster?
Nate hadn’t broken any rules per se, but the commander already had it out for him. Disobeying his squad’s recommendations and getting Wes killed as a result weren’t things she was likely to overlook.
Only a couple minutes after leaving the clearing, Bastion halted before a massive tree, its looming trunk over two dozen feet wide and its canopy too high to see over the other nearby treetops. I guess I’ll find out my fate soon enough.
“You may proceed on your own from here, Master Carter,” Bastion said.
As if waiting for this cue, a rough-hewn door materialized on the trunk’s surface. Nate wondered if the same wildforger had designed this as the benches in the clearing.
More likely, Commander Grisham had brought in an entire contingent of primal verists to beautify her sector. Nate didn’t even want to imagine what it all must’ve cost her in drops of essence.
“I am certain we shall meet again soon,” Bastion said with a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he spun and vanished back into the shadows of the forest.
Nate watched him go. Did Bastion know something he didn’t, or had his words just been an idle threat? Nate breathed deeply and turned toward the waiting door. I have nothing to fear from the commander. I am a powerful verist and an integral part of the guild.
Commander Grisham might not like him, but even she recognized his usefulness. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have kept him around as long as she had. Everything would be fine…probably.
Before he lost his nerve, Nate pushed upon the enchanted doorway and stepped inside. As soon as he was through, the door melted back into the trunk. Guess that means no possibility of retreat. Light emanated from several bulbs dangling across the hollowed-out chamber, casting the room in a greenish-yellow haze.
Nate had expected to find Dale and Sandra, perhaps even Wes. But besides Nate himself, the only other things in the room were an ornate wooden desk—almost certainly wildforged—and the glaring guildmaster seated behind it on a throne of vines.
Commander Grisham appeared imposing despite her diminutive stature. As an Adept well into the Heroic Stage, the manifestation of her power was more pronounced than most Nate had seen.
Her pupil-less eyes glowed with emerald incandescence, and small flowering vines grew directly from her mottled green skin. When she spoke, even her voice carried an otherworldly weight, like leaves rustling in a breeze.
“Explain,” she said, her whispering words belying her harsh tone. Vines writhed out from her throne, slinking along the edges of the room like slithering serpents.
Nate swallowed, forcing himself to meet her piercing gaze. “We successfully completed our mission, commander. We identified the rogue verabeast as a ferroceros. Based on its strength, it was most likely Apprentice-class, not Novice as we had originally been informed. Its protective plating and earthweaving abilities meant it presented a significant threat.”
He paused, trying and failing to gauge the commander’s reaction. He’d never been great at reading others, and with her inhuman visage, it was nigh impossible for him to tell what she was thinking. When she didn’t offer a response, he continued.
“Despite the unexpected challenge, we eventually overwhelmed the verabeast with a coordinated assault that left it crippled. Once we defeated the creature, we conducted the requested survey, mapping out the locations of the most promising essence nodes. Then we—”
“Allow me to clarify,” Commander Grisham interrupted. “When I asked you to explain, I wasn’t asking you to tell me what you did. I am quite familiar with the mission status after speaking with the rest of your squad. What I want to know is why you ignored the concerns of your squadmates, once more permitting your carelessness to directly lead to a squadmate’s unnecessary reclamation.”
Of course; Nate should’ve known that Dale and Sandra’s promise had been too good to be true. They’d told the guildmaster everything that had happened. Well, there was nothing he could do now except try to explain and hope Commander Grisham would let him off with another slap on the wrist.
“It seemed shortsighted to withdraw when victory was within reach. Wes was already engaged with the enemy, and I had a plan I was confident would work.”
“Ah yes; another of your infamous ‘plans.’”
More vines twisted out from the commander’s clenched fists atop her desk, while the rest shuddered along the floor. Nate had seen the guildmaster in action once, at an exhibition match during his own try-out for the guild.
Even with the advantage his fire offered against her favored plant weaves, he doubted he’d stand even a sliver of a chance. He just needed to keep his head down and try to get through this meeting as unscathed as possible.
Commander Grisham’s voice tightened, the whispering leaves warping to scratching brambles. “Since joining the Riftwalkers, your ‘plans’ have single-handedly caused our casualty count to skyrocket. You have shown time and time again that you will do anything, sacrifice anything, in the obsessive pursuit of victory.”
Nate’s temper flared, and he spoke up against his better judgment. “And that’s a bad thing? Everyone in the guild knows my methods work. In the eight months since I’ve joined the Riftwalkers, I’ve never once left a mission uncompleted. I thought you’d want members that are driven, commander.”
“Oh, I do; but I also want members I can trust. Your productivity might have endeared you to some of my lieutenants, but what’s stood out to me is your complete disregard for anyone other than yourself. Unnecessary injuries, disobeying orders… There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to win, is there? You’ve already proven you’d sacrifice your best friend.”
A vision of Wes’ discarded gear flashed before his eyes, and Nate shoved it away. Still, he couldn’t so easily dismiss the pang of guilt that came with it.
