Chapter 187: Book 3-18.2: Iron Skin

The Asheron Court. Like the Telurian, it was located near the plane of Rumiga, near the Tidelands, but not so close to be easily seen. For the Seeker of Delights, the differences between the two were as stark as night and day.

The Telurian Duke, One Who Watches and Waits, ruled the court with an iron fist masquerading as a light touch. The Asheron was a motley collection of lesser nobles with no one powerful leader. Instead, three Marchionesses balanced responsibility, passing power to each other as easily as one tossed a ball to a playmate.

Their Domain shifted scenes and tones depending on who was ascendant. And when the Seeker entered the Fysalli, she found it mired in darkness so deep not even the Traitor Sun could illuminate it.

“Ah, it is the Lady of the Everpresent Dark’s turn,” she noted.

“Indeed.” The Breaker of Bond nodded. “The Herald ruled before I left.” Breaker gave her a sidelong glance. “Interesting Corpus you inhabit, Seeker. Why?”

“For a Hunt,” the Seeker answered. “Knowledge of the quarry is necessary for victory.”

“Hrmm, a comely form. A human child?”

“Wielding powers beyond her ken. She blew apart my previous self with a single blow.”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

“She held Fri’Avgi in her hand, the Bringer of the Dawn, Destroyer of the Night.” Seeker sneered. “Wielded it like a toy sword when we first exchanged blows but by our second bout, she’d unlocked a primary empowerment. The plane twisted and broke as the girl used the power of Chaos within the bounds of Order.”

“A Sorceress? So young?”

“No, brethren, it is the Dawnbreaker blade.”

Breaker’s eyes gleamed as he retreated into his thoughts. Seeker was content to let him lead her through the Domain. She needed passage through the Tidelands but since the Asheron controlled this part of the Chaos Sea, she cannot pass on her own.

After the two had met in that Fysalli and after Seeker bested the Breaker, the other had asked what her goal was. When she told him, he grew intrigued and escorted her here.

It has been several days past, and they’d finally reached the Court. A petition must be made, though only the Chaos knew how long before the Triumvirate answered. But that had been anticipated.

The greater question really was how to find her quarry. The plane of Rumiga was wide and she couldn't stay there long. Draining mortal’s Animus to sustain herself was not a viable method. She could kill and devour them, of course, but her Fetters did not allow her to indulge in wanton slaughter. The Seeker was drawn to challenges, for only hard won things will give her true pleasure.

Turning that child from her country into her thrall had given her a powerful shot of intoxicating pleasure, one she thought would only be overshadowed by the success of her Hunt.

Soon, the darkness of the Fysalli receded to the skies. The Lady finally allowed her servants sight. It revealed a strangely pastoral scene. Across rolling green hills, squares of plaid cloth covered the grass. The Lady was seated on the cloth at the center of everything, heels tucked under her legs, and a flute of wine in hand. The Lady’s face had no features. When she touched the glass to the approximate position of her lips, the liquid seemed to drain away.

The other members of the court huddled within each square of cloth, not a single hair beyond the boundaries while they played a picnic. There was a clear path for the Seeker to follow and the Breaker preceded her.

“You’re back, Breaker.” A noble, a woman with the body of a spider, called out as they passed, “And, oh? Who’s this? A familiar form!” she hissed.

“Merely a guise, Spinner,” Breaker said. “Seeker of Delights, from the Telurian, seeks a boon of the Triumvirate.”

The woman, Spinner, rose from her seat, onto her eight spindly, spiky legs, and came close, leaning down and placing her face right in front of the Seeker. Eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared as she took a tempestuous breath. “Hrmmm, yes, different, but alike, too.”

“You’ve met another whose guise I wear.” It wasn’t a question though the Spinner took it as such.

“Yesss. During the storm raid. In the tunnels. Nearly cut my wrist off.”

A thrill of anticipation, of pleasure, coursed through the Seeker’s veins. “Where?”

“Beneath the mountain of their city. In the tunnels.” Spinner hissed. “I lost a prize to that battle, but managed to secure the rest,” she continued with a wet chuckle. “Even now they marinade in the pot, slowly, slowly, cooking.” Her grin practically split her face in twain, revealing needle sharp teeth.

Seeker grinned.

The Spinner snorted and returned to her square of plaid cloth, folding her legs underneath her large body. The Breaker tugged at Seeker’s sleeve and they continued on the path.

The Lady released her glass in midair as they approached her. Seeker could feel her shadowed eyes in a heated gaze. They came within a few paces, and Breaker dropped to a knee, bowing his head.

The Seeker merely bowed at the waist, indicating her respect. She would not kneel to someone not from her court, but respect was due to the woman’s august presence.

“Lady of the Everpresent Dark, I bring greetings from the One Who Watches and Waits.” Seeker of Delights said.

“Oh, what is that old windbag up to now.” The Lady snorted derisively. “Is he willing to come out of his cave and join in a proper crusade?”

“Oh, no. No, Lady Darkness,” Seeker replied quickly, “I come here on a Hunt and wish passage through your Tidelands.”

“Hurr, what do you seek?”

“A mortal who had bested me in combat,” The Seeker said simply. “I seek her to battle.”

“What makes you think you can best your foe now?”

“Nothing so certain,” Seeker shrugged, “but a challenge must be made regardless.”

“I see. Passage is not so easily granted.”

Seeker licked her lips. “What must I do to gain this boon.”

The Lady plucked the glass from the air, letting it fill with dark red wine. The headiness of its scent tickled at the Seeker’s nose.

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“Go through the Tidelands,” The Lady began and Seeker looked up at the woman’s nonexistent eyes, “You will find a nation of worshippers there. Join and aid them in their quest, then you may continue on your path.”

“I cannot remain in the plane long,” Seeker said quietly.

“Hahahaha, there are many ways to refuel your Essence Well, child. You know how. They will provide for you.”

Seeker bowed her head. “And how long must I do their bidding?”

“Oh, nothing so coarse, my child. Simply follow after them and ensure that no harm befall their chosen.”

“I see. Then I leave to earn my passage.”

The Lady waved a hand, stings of darkness touched Seeker’s head, and bounced away from the golden hair. Seeker could see the Lady frown, an impression of one in her blank features anyway. The Lady waved again and the strings touched Seeker’s chest, above her heart.

It borrowed into her flesh, and formed the Runes of Concordance. Once done, the Seeker gave the Lady a final bow, spun on her heels and left.

_______

Lukas peeled the potato spud in hand quickly and efficiently. The past couple of days had given him enough practice that he could peel an entire spud within ten seconds. Ironically, it took longer if the spud was smaller than average, since he had to position the peeling knife differently.

He glanced over to the side where the goddesses worked, feeling not a little bit of heat rise up to his face. He couldn’t help but glance every now and then, drinking in the sight. He could peel the spuds easily even if he didn’t focus.

Pop!

“Chaos!” Yuriko Davar muttered as she inadvertently crushed another potato when she squeezed too hard. Lukas held in a snort of laughter though a part of him was scandalised at the waste of food. Well, at least the spud didn’t explode unlike the first time. Now that had been a sight. She must have been distracted or lost in her thoughts. Lukas was looking right at her then, when her hand suddenly clenched into a fist. The potato ruptured and sent mush as far away as the wall.

He’d helped clean up, of course, and she thanked him profusely. Her voice was quite mesmerising.

‘No, I have to remember, they are the enemy,’ he thought furiously. Maybe not them, personally, but look at them. Each girl, from Yuriko Davar to Gwendith Sharine, was the epitome of privilege. They were even wearing forceweave clothing during kitchen duty while he was wearing wool clothing, barely adequate for the freezing air and would offer absolutely no protection should anyone attack him. Well, at least the kitchen was warm.

At the end of the workday, Lukas returned to the men’s barracks. There were nineteen other boys who came with him to the Fort, but the only one who remained was Lukas. The others had been assigned to the outer camps. The fort administrator had taken a single measuring look at Lukas and told him to head to the kitchens.

It was frustrating. He needed to earn eight hundred more merits and though the basic pay was a merit a day, he had been able to complete two tasks a day previously, earning him a merit each. He’d picked this assignment on the premise that he would be allowed to earn more than one a day.

“You’re not strong enough,” the admin decided. “You don't have Empowered Strike inlaid and you’ve barely the minimum Animus reserve to reach Apprentice.” The man’s tone was derisive, but Lukas only felt pride. His starting reserve had been far lower, after all.

So he had no choice but to stick to menial tasks. At least the food was free and when he had reviewed the contract, he realised that aside from merits he would actually receive basic pay. It was two Sovereigns a day for a cadet, that was already more than he earned in a week. Still, he was expected to do his duties and to train himself, something he didn’t find onerous at all.

After a quick dinner and a half hour rest to digest, he made his way to the training yard. There, he picked up a training spear. A drill master led a few recruits into the proper spear forms, and Lukas followed suit. Left foot forward, left hand along the shaft, right near the butt. Step forward and thrust. Step back and recover. Again. Again. Again.

“The basic movements are the foundations of skill.” The drill master said every now and then. Lukas wasn’t technically part of the class but he could follow their movements from a few dozen paces away. When they started using Empowered Strike with the spears, he followed along, too.

The recruits’ Animus was a cloud around the spearheads. Lukas held a frown at that. The Animus was much too large for what was needed for the technique. Whenever they thrust the spear, some of the Animus broke away and faded into the air.

Lukas focused on the technique, enveloping his spearhead with a thin coating of orange light. When he thrust the spear, none of it broke away. He couldn’t reabsorb the Animus, of course, as it had already been tainted by his Intent, but he knew he could keep it there for as long as he wanted to.

“Good control.”

The melodious voice sent shivers down his spine even as he jumped in surprise. Even so, he didn’t lose control of his Animus, not when every lumen meant coins for food. He whirled around and saw Yuriko Davar standing a couple of paces away. She was holding a training blade in both hands.

“M-miss Davar,” he stuttered.

Aside from the first evening during their trip here, she hadn’t really spoken to him. He could feel his pulse race as her imperious blue eyes shifted from him to his spearhead, where the light of his Animus was steady. Her eyes returned to him and she nodded before turning away. Even more surprised by the fact that she even deigned to speak with him, he followed her lithe form as she glided over to a spot and began to…dance.

Her graceful movements couldn’t be called anything else, he thought, though he could easily see how deadly that dance was when he saw her Animus, a burnished brilliant gold, coat her body and weapons. She kept at it for a while, until her dance ended. As if feeling his stare, she turned her head and caught his gaze.

Heart pounding, Lukas wondered if she would consider him rude for staring. Instead, she gave him a small smile, which was almost enough to freeze him solid, and beckoned with her blade.

“Want to spar?”

‘And get killed!?’ his thoughts screamed at him. Her fluid grace was almost too fast for him to see, and he vividly remembered how she crushed that potato with a careless squeeze. Still though…

With a gulp, he nodded, but he couldn’t help but say, “I-if you wish. But I’m a beginner.”

She shrugged and said, “Everyone begins somewhere.”

“Oh.” Lukas stepped up within combat range. He had the longer weapon and that should give him a bit of an advantage right? “Let’s begin?”

“Sure!”

And with that, she proceeded to show him how much further he had to go. Well, she called it a spar but it was more personal instruction than anything else. She told him how to keep on his toes when he needed to move, how to drive his heel into the ground just before he struck, and rudimentary ways to parry with the spear. She even exchanged her training weapons from sword to spear so she could show him what she meant.

At the end of the spar, he bowed and thanked her. He wasn’t injured, in the slightest. Her blows always stopped a hair from striking him, and that had happened more times than he could count. All the while, his control over his Animus didn’t waver.

Just before she left, she glanced back at him, looked at the Animus on his spearhead and said, “You might want to add more Animus to the technique. Too little and it won’t help you fight.”

Lukas just stared as she walked away, eyes glued to the sway of her hips. He gulped when she went out of sight, and he dismissed the technique. He returned to the barracks and readied himself for bead, luxuriating in the hot shower he had to himself. One thought wouldn’t leave his mind though, why was she helping him?

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