Toralaw Talongleam would have risen before dawn if not for the realities of the Octyrrum. Even one as ‘devoted’ and ‘prodigious’ as him couldn’t add more time to the day or change the need for sleep. Kahvin idly thought that he’d never heard of anyone bypassing that limit regardless of class or level. If there was ever one to do it then it would be his brother, if only to add yet another laurel to his brow while on his quest to usurp him. The only reason he knew his brother hadn’t taken that as an actual quest was that his father was putting Toralaw through the same enhanced training he’d gone through.
Not that he or his brother were embarking on any at this moment. Kahvin hadn’t sworn any Quest after the fallout from that disastrous hunt. That man, that human, who was arrogant enough to think he’d earned the sky for just putting on some special jacket still infuriated him. He’d explained the risks of the mission, hadn’t he? It was the responsibility of the team leader to look out for their team, and having the gall to blame him for-
Kahvin leaned deeper onto the balcony overlooking the sparring field of his family estate, switching back to his other woe. He was losing momentum. It could just be the difficulty hike from level 3, but a part of the Hero was terrified it was something else. Toralaw, the showoff, was only gaining altitude. Not literally at least as he hadn’t yet gotten to the point of self-sufficient flight, the fledgling level 1 Hero instead fighting at the bottom of the pit surrounded by ropes.
Toralaw was only level 1, though his attribute total was around where Kahvin’s was long after he’d ascended to the second level. His father’s doing, no doubt. His sons couldn’t be given free rein of their advancement after his mistake. The first failure that had begun the steady decline that was now threatening to turn into a free fall. His face had been scarred by that duel with another Hero, who’d been exiled from the region for daring to do so. There were other marks too. Despite having arranged the exile, Lagori seemed intent on turning his second son into a copy of the one who’d humiliated the first.
His brother was currently dueling a level 2 sword Martiliast, human. Flight was such a significant advantage over the wingless kind that the gliding Toralaw was capable of could have changed the fight, so both were staying grounded. Even so, Toralaw was pressing his opponent. There was a beauty to the simple, efficient movement Kahvin hated. How many hours every day did Toralaw pour into practicing movement itself, and to what end? He’d barely touch the ground in most hunts.
Then there was the sword work itself. Toralaw had an attack power, Reverse Lariat. It was a sweeping attack that started at the front, went above the head, and then struck at anything behind the user. Not as ridiculously flashy as Hero special attacks could get, and it was also a committed attack. Using it in most cases would leave you open to the front until the power was over. All committed attack powers had that kind of weakness.
Except Toralaw, that bastard younger brother of his, had figured out a cheat. Kahvin watched as his brother began executing the maneuver, his opponent parrying the initial hit. The Martialist followed up with a quick strike, expecting Toralaw to block with his shield and effectively reset the state of the duel. His brother did block, but the sword twisted in air above his head and came back down to strike at the human in what could have led to a decapitation were they using real swords.
It was ridiculous. The deflection off the Martialist’s blade hadn’t broken the path of Reverse Lariat, rather his brother had somehow managed to reverse the reversal. It was exactly the kind of cheap trick that… And who the Crest needs to train something like that anyway? Monsters are stupid, you don’t need to work this hard.
He didn’t get it. Even with the new threats, Aurus had it handled. So some new type had trashed the outlying garbage heaps, the capitol had it handled. They just needed to bunker down for a year or so and then the gods would take care of everything. You didn’t need to overthink this.
Kahvin shook his head as he stood up, shaking out his arms as he Grew his wings. Flying around the city was more annoying now that the defenses had been heightened. Certain zones where the ballistae were clustered were restricted to keep sightlines clear. The nest guard didn’t have the manpower to shepherd all of these, but you still needed to stay away as they would fire on threats no matter if you were in the way or not.
The Talongleams lived near the top of the mountain, on the side that faced the Shattered Falls even, but that blessing had turned into a curse as there were now narrow, constricted flight paths down. It was almost as slow as walking, and he pitied anyone whose flying was weak enough to prevent them from hovering in place. Kahvin wanted to just break out of the queues and quickly dive, but he had every reason to avoid being noticed these days.
He couldn’t land in the Divine Quarter’s courtyard either, as that had been dramatically fortified along with other areas of the city. One of the gods had sent an echo of themselves to help, though his father had expressed private doubts to his mother whilst they were dining. Kahvin had to agree that of all the churches to have made the moves Cloak’s had, the only one he’d trust less was Hourglass’. Those seventh Realm freaks were just too out there.
At least he was going to one of the good ones. The church of the Hand had a better reputation than all of the others, beating out Hammer’s in his own Realm. That wasn’t too much of a surprise. I don’t even blame them for my beak. Kahvin found him touching the spot as he walked into the lobby. It was small but noticeable, and it hadn’t healed properly. Regular healing powers didn’t work on breaks in hard body parts like bones. His family could afford the means to repair it regardless, but…
“Kahvin Talongleam, Hero of Threst,” he said almost absentmindedly when he found himself in front of a green-feathered Cleric after a minute of aimless wandering. He could have gone straight to the desk but he was hesitating, unsure of even coming here in the first place. “I’m the captain of Talonwing. There’s someone here on my team receiving treatment.”
It was odd how easily the formal court way of speaking could come to him when he wasn’t paying attention. He could usually block it out when there was a potential match in the room, but this Cleric was too old for his tastes. Plus there was just a… I don’t know, a look in her eye that makes me think she can tear me in half if she wants to. “Can I see him?” he added when the Cleric didn’t immediately reply, only continuing to look at him with that sharp gaze.
“From what I know, no one from his team has visited since he was injured,” she accused.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Too bitter, I’m not like that. “I wanted to come sooner. How is he doing?”
The Cleric gave him an assessing look, frowning slightly though she didn’t speak on whatever she was thinking. “He’s this way.”
Kahvin followed, feeling a weight on him as he continued down the hallway that he tried to ignore. Every injured person here reached out to him through his powers, evoking Call for Help to name just one of the powers his father had been thrilled he’d received. He hated it. Why trigger for them? They’re getting help. They don’t need me. He could ignore the urges most times, but they were always there. All he wanted was a simple life.
“He’s in here.” Again he got the sense that the Cleric wanted to say something else, but he was having a hard time reading what exactly. He’d had some disparity in wisdom practically since he’d gained his class, and Kahvin had the feeling the Cleric was on his level, maybe getting close to 4. “With his Regeneration, he was able to survive the initial injuries,” she continued softly, in case there were people nearby who could overhear. “I’ve had the chance to observe how severe injuries can affect self-healing powers recently. Acid isn’t a traditional counter to this one, but the tissue has been damaged to the point that recovery has been affected.”
Kahvin’s eyes glazed over for a moment before he shook his head. “Sorry, what?”
“It will be another week at least, and he’s in pain,” the Cleric replied simply. “You are here to see how soon he’ll be ready to hunt, yes?”This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Huh? Oh yeah, I guess.” Kahvin stood in front of the doorway, hand shaking a little as he reached for the knob.
“If there is anything you need to speak privately on…” the Cleric offered behind him, so quiet he could hear his heartbeat over her words.
“There’s nothing to say.” He quickly opened and closed the door behind him, not initially taking in what was in the room. Damn it. Does she have a mind reading power? I don’t need people causing more problems for me.
“Kahvin,” a voice wheezed feebly, and the Hero finally took a look at who was lying on the bed. The sight of Clacki would have been enough to make him sick if he hadn’t seen how the Berserker had looked after being pulled out of that Crest-damned monster. Almost all of his feathers had been dissolved, and acid had eaten deeply into various parts of his body. One hand had been severed just from what had gone missing, and he could see a section of bone that had rotted.
When Clacki had joined the team, Kahvin had been envious of that power. So simple in what it did, and yet it could fix anything given time. There was no more exposed bone, and the feathers were regrown in the areas that hadn’t been too damaged. Still, this looked less like recovery and more like torture. “Hey,” he grunted.
“Bertrar and Adva?”
“Grunt work,” Kahvin shrugged, trying not to hear the pain in his teammate’s voice. Clacki quickly rose when he heard this, and Kahvin winced as he saw blood begin to stain the bandages.
“Your dad didn’t-“
“No,” he quickly assured. “The Commander. She would have gotten to me too if she could. It sounds like they’ve been too busy to check in with you.”
Clacki chuckled lightly. “Not much to see here boss. What about you? I don’t know if I should be surprised you came this late or that you came at all.”
“How are you feeling, really?” Kahvin asked his friend, dodging the question. “If those idiots hadn’t left us to fight that thing alone we could have-“
“I’m good boss, really,” Clacki said, using the tone he always did when what he wanted to say was that his boss was being a bit much. Or that he should stop staring at tail feathers before he got smacked. “Just thinking about how everything’s changing. I heard what happened two days ago.”
“Everything’s going to be fine. I don’t know why everyone’s so worried,” Kahvin replied curtly, his words heating up towards the end. “Aurus isn’t going anywhere. That damned Crest isn’t going to-”
His voice broke and Clacki gave him an odd look, the Hero appreciating for the first time that one of the Berserker’s eyes seemed to have just finished reforming. “What are you talking about?”
“Why does everything have to be so hard!?” he almost shouted before remembering himself. If this had been somewhere public it would have been a disaster. “We were set for an easy life. A bit of monster hunting between kicking it up with some hot chicks and just enjoying the world. Why does this all have to happen now?”
The Berserker pondered that sage question before he just shook his head, unable to pierce through to the cosmic truth that eluded Kahvin. “I think you need some rest too, boss. It’s not going to get any easier.”
“Yeah,” he replied simply, hurt by the disappointment that was suddenly in Clacki’s voice. The Berserker was just too injured for him to make anything of it. Kahvin was too lost to either. He left without saying another word, but as he walked back into the secluded hallway, a fierce grip suddenly enveloped his arm. “No, wait, I-“
“Boy,” a harsh voice intoned from behind him as his father began to activate one of his powers. “It seems you need another lesson.” Both vanished before anyone could react, not that they’d been noticed.
…
The room was odd with respect to avianoid structural design. Fully interior rooms existed as a matter of course in any space large enough to require structural support, though you would be hard pressed to find any room without windows that people wanted to stay in for a prolonged period of time. This was one such exception, where Lagori Talongleam oversaw the finer points of his heirs’ education.
Levels gave and changed much, perspective chief among them. Lagori thought he might have reached the point where he’d stopped aging, or at least wouldn’t enter old age for a thousand years. A thousand years. He’d served Threst for two centuries without letting distractions such as a family life intrude on his devotion to his people, region, and gods. It was only when he’d ascended to his current position that he had considered other aspects of life. The only heights he could further aspire to were leading the Hunter’s Guild, or the regency itself. He had no interest in the former and up until recently had no chance at the latter.
So, time. Hourglass’ domain was the cruelest. Lagori had achieved all he could through duty alone and had thus set out to assure that his legacy would extend beyond his tenure in Threst, whether due to his climbing to the peak of his class or his death. His first son, and his first failure sat frozen in the armchair, bound by Valorous Expectation.
Powers were so versatile. Toralaw was showing an admirable understanding of this already, which further highlighted the failings of his older brother. His first wife had urged a measured approach to Kahvin’s upbringing and like a fool he’d obliged her to some small degree. Now he could see the consequences of that decision. The power he was using was nominally meant to inspire bravery in those fighting alongside him, empowering them in the way of Bardic music while cutting out all that was unnecessary.
But there were other ways to use it. The power gave people an example to live up to. If they couldn’t, and if he pressed, then this would happen. All Kahvin had to do was stand out of the chair and he would embrace the man his son had become, but it wasn’t to be. Not today, but Lagori would give his son every chance to improve. Heroes never left anyone behind.
“I was clear in my instructions,” he declared after Kahvin had suffered the costs of his transgression for a full minute. “We are not to be seen with failure. We are the hopes of the common people, their bastion. It does not do to show them the cracks in the wall.”
Lagori eased the tension slightly, allowing Kahvin to speak despite how poorly he fit the ideal in his mind. It still took him a moment to compose himself, a sign of the imbalance in his attributes he had still yet to correct after all these years. “I’m sorry.”
“Insufficient.” His son’s words broke over Lagori like the talons of a monster who thought it knew the meaning of ferocity. “I had been content to watch your path, hoping to see you finally mature once given responsibility. My hopes soared with your bravery against the ripair hawk, and yet it would seem to be an exception rather than a development. It confounds me how recent circumstances haven’t shown you the way to greatness.”
Lagori clicked his beak in a tsk and moved to his desk, withdrawing a piece of parchment before writing on it with a quill made from the preserved feather of his own tragically glorious father. “Then you proceed to be humiliated by a foreigner who has only tasted the sky. In full view of a Fate, no less. It sounded as though you hardly fought back.” He could sense Kahvin trying to speak, resisting the power on him, but the attempt was feebler than an immature chick failing to break out of its shell.
“You are fortunate I was able to intercede, doubly so given your rival’s backing.” The scratching of the quill paused as Lagori turned contemplative for a moment. “Ruins. I have heard certain rumors of divine portents surrounding that Artificer, and yet their lineage is questionable. Too crossed with speculation. Fitting, considering the only avianoid following him is a mongrel unfit for a true name. The daughter of a traitor.”
He sighed and turned back to face Kahvin, who was now looking in horror at the parchment. “Too much is at risk for me to allow weakness to fester in the heart of Aurus. The hand of the enemy moves to claim our people and turn them into its pawns. How fitting that of the only settlements outside of Aurus to survive relatively unscathed, the Sojourn and that foreigner were at each?”
Lagori took a seat himself and moved a table between the two of them through Force of Will. “I know somewhere in that hormone-addled mind you have seen the same signs. I refuse to believe that Hammer would abandon us to the likes of Cloak, especially with the fall of Rikendia. We are the top contender for a new center of the kingdom, and yet, another god comes in his stead. Spiritualists have shown their hand in Aughal, demonstrating how easily they turned the weak-willed duskers of the city to their end. You must have wondered if they could do the same with a church.”
Kahvin saw the words on the parchment now and did manage to vocalize something, but it could barely be considered a whine. “This isn’t the time for indecision or weakness. It is time for us all to make a Noble Sacrifice, my son.” He waited, but as he thought Kahvin wasn’t a willing target of the ability. “I see. Then, perhaps it would be best for you Reminiscence on Failings.”
Despite his development of novel uses of his powers, even Lagori wasn’t sure why this worked the way it did on Kahvin. It was meant to be a way for Heroes to relive past mistakes and learn from them, and he had made use of this power many times to beneficial effect. And yet, it seemed Kahvin could not help but relive that one duel years ago when he clearly wished otherwise.
Gadriel Cross was a coward who’d gotten what he’d deserved, of course. Using a cheap tactic in a duel was unbecoming of any proper Hero of Threst, not that the human could have ever aspired to be so. That wasn’t to say humans didn’t have their place, but avianoids were simply optimized for the region. Other races could live here quite fine, but when one dared to threaten the fate of a true master of the sky?
Lagori felt no qualms about helping a fellow Hero find a place elsewhere where he could truly shine, though it had to be said he despised the mark he had left on his son. Kahvin was panting as he came out of the trance, temporarily out of the effect of Valorous Expectation before it was pushed back onto him without issue. His mental defenses were truly atrocious. “Have you changed your mind?” he asked simply, closing his eyes as he sensed the answer. “Then we will have to do this again. Do not worry, my son. I know you will find true conviction eventually.”
Well immune to the pleading he saw in Kahvin’s eyes, Lagori used his abilities again as he mentally prepared for a long lesson.