“Well? How are you feeling?”
Kite wasn’t in the least surprised at Dragonfly’s sudden question while they were getting dressed and ready for the day, even though the bustling streets of the capital had felt like another world while the pair had luxuriated in bed for a while longer than usual after the revelations last evening, with discussions and speculations lasting well into the night. Since the moment they woke up that morning, Dragonfly had seemed a bit extra caring and almost cautious around him, and while it was nice, Kite also felt a bit relieved as she finally got around to asking.
“Assuming that you meant after yesterday’s talks about my potential heritage? Good. Surprisingly so. While there are plenty of questions that remain unanswered, and probably will for life, it was still good to give it some proper time. Thank you, Dragonfly. For staying,” he said earnestly, and even managed to hide the satisfaction at the slight fluster it still caused in his lover.
“Of course I’d stay. I wanted to know too. And I think your aunties have wondered a lot over the years as well. It’s just…”
“A bit more than one could imagine?”
“Mhmm…” she agreed, words temporarily garbled by a silken band which she held in her mouth while her hands were busy trying to wrangle her mass of curls into some semblance of order. Once she finally had it under control and was using said band to tie it off, she continued. “I would probably have reacted the same as Little Crow, honestly. It’s like straight out of a story. One last stand of a love not meant to be, still leaving its mark.”
“And it does explain how they could afford the essences in question. They went a long way for the symbolism of it all, too. The void essence surely isn’t a cheap one, given its rarity,” Kite agreed.
“So have you decided what you want to do about it?”
“Well, there is honestly not that much I can do,” Kite said with a shrug. “Just sharing my thoughts with family and others close to me feels enough for now. It really doesn’t change much in my actual life or my path towards the heavens. They - Tranquil Divide and Ardent Horizon Seeker - gave me life, even if it was mostly for the sake of their own principles and emotions. And they provided me with a start for my own climb towards the heavens. While grateful for both, I believe that will be it for now. Should I eventually manage to reach gold rank and meet with my suspected birth father, I might ask though. But given the story, it feels like the matter might be complicated enough to be best left alone.”
“The usual Kite then. Calm and collected. Almost annoyingly reasonable,” Dragonfly teased.
“Would you rather I went into pieces and immediately set off towards the sect in a desperate attempt to connect with my heritage and a man I only know through speculations and stories?” Kite retorted, amused. “Maybe dedicating my life to the Silent Horizon sect doesn’t sound that bad, after all.”
“Well, of the two of us, you’d definitely adapt to sect life the best,” Dragonfly giggled, fastening the last strap on her - according to Kite - most fetching outfit in the shape of a pale gold silk robe cinched tighter around her waist. “Still, I can surely pull off a robe when needed. What do you think?” she said, twirling as she finished.
“You are an absolute vision. Careful so that the contenders don’t get distracted and drop their clash to contend for your attention instead,” Kite complemented, honest in his opinions even through the hyperbole.
“Well, I guess I would have to contend with the no doubt ridiculous amount of courtesans and lovers that our most affluent combatants no doubt have fawning over them? No thank you. And besides, you don’t look too bad yourself. A girl could definitely do worse,” she retorted, straightening a sleeve of Kite’s own formalwear; a new iteration of the dark blue robes he had bought back in Bastion a few years back. “Although it feels a bit odd to dress all fancy to see a duel.”
“Had we been part of the masses watching, there would probably have been less need for it. But given that we will be seated with the Tengu clan, at least some eyes will be upon us,” Kite reminded her. “Besides, it's nice to get a reason to dress up every now and then.”
“Speaking of dressing up, is Glint coming with us? Or with the young master Monsoon?”
“Neither. From what I gathered, another young master of a different draconian heritage has apparently entered the fray, managing to impress Glint enough to have her accompany him to the event. It’s apparently starting to cause a bit of a stir in those circles. The draconian families of Heavenward are apparently quite affluent, enough to have their own court of intrigues.”
“Heavens, Glint. Lofty ambitions,” Dragonfly shuddered. “Just imagine it.”
“Oh I believe that Glint can, at least. From what Little Crow could gather from the clan members with their ear to that particular piece of the rumor mills, she’s apparently doing most well in gathering a reputation as a reclusive, lofty beauty with exacting standards in regards to propriety.
“I suppose that we’ll see her there, then. Trying to spot any foul glares from her other would-be suitors will probably be a decent past-time as we wait for it to start.”
“A most excellent suggestion, my ardent Dragonfly,” Kite said, offering his arm to her while indicating the exit. “Shall we? It’s not every day that one has the opportunity to see the king bare his blade. And from such prime seating too.”
“Mistress, the King has requested your presence,” a servant who sat next to her on the palanquin murmured, mere moments after receiving a note from a runner.
The priestess of Discord didn’t look at the woman, only nodding her confirmation. A few more whispers and notes sent around among the staff had her means of transportation, currently carried by six fine jade constructs shaped like soldiers, diverted from its path leading towards one of Heavenward’s arenas exclusive entrances.
The constructs were part of Threefold guard; three hundred and thirty three identical silver-ranked magical automata left as a parting gift for all the regents that followed by the Queen of Jade and Sky upon her abdication after reaching diamond rank. The animated jade soldiers mainly served as guardians of the palace, but could be temporarily assigned to other tasks to show favor. And having six of them was a show of favor that was unique to the priestess and the priestess alone.
She soon arrived outside an even more exclusive entrance; one of the challenger’s gates outside which thirty more of the Threefold guard stood in steady vigilance. None of them responded at the palanquin’s approach however, and neither did they move when the priestess stepped down and entered. Alone, of course. Only she had been called, after all.
“Your majesty.”
A courtesan did not look at her liege without being given permission, gold rank or not. As such, the priestess had barely entered the opulent chambers in which the ruling monarch prepared themselves for a challenge before she sank to her knees, head bowed deeply with hands cupped in the ritual greeting.
“Rise, Ametrine. We are alone, and I have questions and a task for you.”
King of the Pure Firmament, the current monarch of Hua-Xi was a moderately tall man, his ascension through the ranks having left him with the whipcord body of a dancer rather than the more wide and powerful builds many others sported. But one in his presence could not deny the sheer command and danger in his aura; the feeling that the man always had a distinct advantage over you, a somehow innate superiority which he could bring to bear against you at any moment, should you displease him.
The king was currently seated in front of a mirror, in the process of touching up the thin line of dark beard that traced his jaw before coming together into an extended goatee around his mouth. While he could always have commanded servants to carry out his every whim, he had always preferred taking care of his own grooming even after ascending to the throne, letting none other intrude upon his self-care. With one exception.
“What would you have of me, your majesty?” Ametrine asked while gliding up behind her liege, feet resting upon a shimmering, conjured trail of smoke hidden beneath the hem of her robes. With a transition smoothed to perfection by gold-ranked attributes and years of repetition, she took over the exquisite razor, its blade never halting its exacting, precise motion along his jaw. Ametrine's other hand was placed lightly at the nape of the king’s neck, a light, circling touch just the way he enjoyed so much.
“I would know if there is anything more that your little wisps of smoke have been able to gather in regards to Breath of Valor,” the king said, his note of command growing a lot gentler at Ametrine’s close touch. “We know his path, but little of any changes since his time spent abroad. I sincerely doubt that the Valors would make a move such as this unless they thought themselves having an edge. And given how quickly the challenge was posed after his return indicates that it is an edge that would be much dulled should it be known beforehand.”
“The Valors have been most exacting with their security during the two months since their Young Master’s return,” Ametrine began, having expected the question. “But a recent development did allow my wisps to glean a bit more. But I will have to apologize beforehand, your majesty, as it is nothing encompassing.”
“We have turned even the most minute detail to our advantage before, Ametrine. Speak freely, and worry not.”
“I suspect that the Young Master Valor have come into possession of some kind of artifact, either something of a single use or something limited in scope enough to be easily counterable should one know of it beforehand. The few hints of it my wisps have gathered tells my instincts that it is something small and innocuous as well. Beware the venom of the small scorpion in ambush, my liege, as it might try to fell the mighty elephant,” Ametrine said, sparing no detail while taking care to keep her tone controlled and smooth as she laid the delicate shaving razor aside, moving on to gathering up the man’s dark hair into a topknot held in place with silk bands and a decorated hairpin that sat like a small, elaborate crown atop his head.
“That should be more than enough. My path will carry us both to the heavens, Ametrine, but even the mighty needs to keep an eye where he steps. No step towards the peak is without risk, be it the scorpion in ambush or the blade that you see coming,” the king replied, nodding gravely as he met Ametrine’s eyes through the mirror. “Anything else?”
“No, my King.”
“And the other courtesans? What is the talk among my harem?”
“Nothing of note, your majesty. While they sure have their uses in their scheming and intrigue, none seems to have been conspiring along with the Valors in this regard. The fall of the Lunar family is still fresh in the minds of those that would cast you down.”
“Excellent.”
Silence reigned between them for a few minutes as Ametrine finished up, leaving her monarch most ready to be seen by his people, be they loyally cheering or secretly scheming. Feeling content with her work, Ametrine stepped up to the king’s side, regarding him in the mirror as she leaned forward, letting a ringlet of her bismuth hair touch his cheek as her gaze once more met his through the mirror.
“As his majesty seems to be out of questions, what task did you have for me?” she asked, already knowing the answer. Her providing him with the information that her network of ‘wisps’ gathered was just a natural part of their dynamic, after all. A given.
“The clash is still some time away, and as usual I find myself wanting for company. And distraction.”
While the words seemed composed and commanding at first glance, Ametrine knew the king’s mind and aura well enough to already having sensed his burgeoning lust; a habit before most, if not all, of the previous important trials he had faced during their time together. She had already been setting things up, gentle touches and presence deftly wielded towards this very outcome. Ametrine was most invested in his success as well, after all. Her king was both a sword and shield, to both Ametrine’s person as well as her deity’s grand undertaking during all these years.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
As such, no more words were needed. Ametrine just slid around her liege and into his lap, a small surge of mana opening hidden clasps within her formal-looking exquisite robes to lay most of her bare for him. And while she was a lot more than a mere companion; so much more than the powerful man currently drinking her in could realize, Ametrine could also be most distracting when she chose to. It was her path, after all, and one that she would wield for both herself and her deity until the very peak.
It wasn’t until half an hour later that she once more emerged to her still waiting palanquin, her look once more pristine. Ametrine ignored the poorly hidden spies of the other courtesans noting her return, knowing the frustrations that would spread among the other ambitious ones yearning for her favored spot at the King’s side, thinking it within reach if they only played the games well enough. It was a foolish notion, but one that both Ametrine and the king needed to keep alive in order for them to remain useful. He would always choose her, after all, as he had long before he was known as King of the Pure Firmament.
“And long before I held the name Ametrine Dreams wreathed in Silk, I suppose,” she mused, still most content with the name she had been given all those years ago. “Still, it will be most satisfactory to see the others’ carefully schooled faces during the clash, knowing that I was once again called. It will make them plot even more furiously, a false hole in our defenses that some foolish enemies might try to exploit again in the future. And a way of serving you, omnipresent Discord.”
“An offering that remains most delectable, gardener,” came her deity’s response, an answer given to the thought prayer. “Keep your heart steady as you help the garden spread. The grand undertaking continues. My garden will soon be more than a mere constant backdrop to the others.”
“Of course, my God,” Ametrine thought back even as she outwardly showed only dignified detachment while her palanquin entered Heavenward’s grand arena, heading towards her viewing box. “Today is just another step for us. It will be a pleasure to watch my chosen shears prune this next in a long line of weeds that will inevitably spring up as we draw closer to another blooming of your garden.”
As Kite entered the Tengu clan’s seating area in Heavenward’s grand arena, his first instinct was to stop and just take it all in. Only the flow of people around and behind him kept him moving, following in the wake of little Crow and Dragonfly to find his seat. Or rather, his place to lounge.
“Please, get comfortable!” Little Crow called happily, gesturing to the spacious viewing box that could easily hold a small party for over fifty people while leaving plenty of room to mingle. Only the stair-like nature of the space kept it from feeling like some kind of banquet hall, the sloped nature allowing for a good view of the arena below from almost anywhere within it. It was filled with different seating arrangements; from recliners and sofas in groups to piles of pillows around low tables. Food was plentiful as well, and the general air of festivity belied the fact that the event that was to unfold down in the arena could change the course of the Country’s history.
The members of the clan hadn’t waited on any kind of signal or permission, spreading out to talk and eat while they waited. Kite and the others did follow their examples, and soon found themselves seated with a great view.
“Have you ever seen a pair of golds fight?” Little Crow asked, popping a grape into his mouth. “It’s a good thing that you are all silvers, otherwise the majority of the clash would mostly be a blur. The gap between ranks only gets more and more pronounced, after all.”
“No, this will indeed be the first time,” Kite admitted, with Dragonfly and auntie Crow shaking their heads as well. “But if I may ask, how will the rest of the spectators manage? Most aren’t silver rank, after all.”
“That depends on how much money they’re willing to spend,” Little Crow explained. “While such an important historical event is open to the masses, most won’t get anything out of the experience other than to claim bragging rights to have been there. Not unless they spend a good amount to rent enchanted glasses or other similar solutions. What this boils down to is that the clash is, at its core, meant for those wielding actual power themselves. Is it the most sympathetic way to do things? Definitely not. Would it have been more available in a proper mirage arena? Yes. But these clashes have so far been kept to corporeal, as the still living tradition holds firm that one will need to be willing to bleed in order to reach the heavens.”
The assassin’s explanation did answer some of Kite's follow-up questions, as he had wondered why the duel was held within this fine but old structure of enchanted woods protected by layers of defensive arrays. During his contracts with Gauntlet, he had witnessed the grand mirage arenas of some of the most affluent cities in the world; works of architectural wonder which left the structure Kite was currently in thoroughly in the dust. Still, while he wasn’t overly traditional, he had to admit that it did feel like the building had a spirit of its own ingrained in the old, lacquered wooden planks.
“Speaking of power -,” Little Crow continued, “- it would seem that Glint is creating a bit of a ripple, being seen at the side of young master Ever-Jade like that. He guided the other’s gazes around the different seating boxes dotting the higher reaches of the stands, pointing out several different draconian families where more than a few took every chance to throw withering glares towards were Glint sat next to a green-scaled silver-ranker who might risk tipping backwards if he was to hold his head any higher.
“Most of the important names are here. We have the Valors, of course, coming in force to see how their bid for the throne will turn out.” The assassin followed it with a rapid-fire introduction of the other power players in local politics, their families claiming old and lofty concepts as part of their names. “And over there - see that cluster of smaller boxes there? - is the King’s harem. The biggest one is usually reserved for the one courtesan currently most in favor by the current regent. While most monarchs, starting with the Queen of Jade and Sky, had the position shift rather frequently, King of the Pure Firmament has been surprisingly loyal with his affections. See the celestine woman with the shimmering hair? That’s Ametrine Dreams wreathed in Silk. She has held her position for the whole of the King’s reign, basically the closest thing to a co-regent we’ve ever seen in these lands.”
“Really?” Dragonfly asked, looking closer. “Heavens, she surely has the looks. She’s a gold too, right?”
Kite took a good long look too, agreeing with Dragonfly’s assessment. The celestine possessed an almost terrifying perfection, her poise most proud and dignified where she sat on a glittering cloud of smoke which beautifully complemented her many layers of robes.
“Indeed, which should tell you a lot about the King’s relative loyalty. Raising a core-user to gold rank isn’t done without great expense,” Little Crow agreed, continuing his introductions. “And as you can see over there, the branch director of the adventure society is here in person too. Of course, you’ve already met director Temren, Kite. I’ve always found it rather amusing that the seating of the sects is so close to them. Maybe it is to keep the glaring at a minimum-”
Little Crow continued his presentation, but Kite soon found himself giving the introductions only partial attention as his own gaze had stopped on a man which he had previously only beheld depicted in an inanimate painting. Ardent Horizon Seeker sat among his sect, clad in the flowing, formal robes bearing the colors of the institution. His face was even a mirror of the expression in the painting; a kind of somber intensity in his blue eyes as he seemed to be looking at nothing in particular where his seated form floated a good meter above the floor of their viewing box.
“Well, little Kite, while I already believed your telling, seeing it with my own eyes only makes me ever more certain,” auntie Crow noted from beside him, apparently having noted where Kite’s gaze was lingering. “Had I not been a silver-ranker, I wouldn’t have been able to make out enough details at this distance, though.”
“Is it that obvious then?” Kite asked, snapped out of his thoughts by her words.
“I would say that only someone intimately familiar with the looks of either of you would have a chance to notice without the direct comparison. But having spent quite some time looking at you while you grew up, I do believe that I fall into that group,” his auntie said with a gentle smile.
“I suppose that you and auntie Dove would indeed. But then, neither of you have been anything but the most caring of parents,” Kite retorted, briefly squeezing her hand in thanks.
However, any further commentary was interrupted as a deep resounding gong was struck somewhere out of sight, its reverberations easily carried throughout the entire space as it made all of the thousands of people gathered in the stands fall silent.
Unlike the mirage arenas Kite had visited briefly during his own travels with Gauntlet, there was no announcer to work up the crowds or to similarly comment on the proceedings. But the gong did cause a slight reaction, as in every one of the partitioned viewing boxes, a single individual stood up and walked up to the railing. Some were silver-ranked, but most were gold; from high priests of local temples to the matriarch or patriarch of local families. The sect leaders of the capital were present, as well as director Temren and the red-masked member of the Tengu’s clan which Kite so far only knew as ‘senior brother’.
None spoke, yet all clearly knew their role as their actions acknowledged the two combatants that entered the arena below, the gong’s continued, rhythmic beating their only accompaniment.
And while Kite had never laid eyes on him before, he instantly knew which of the two men who were his monarch and ruler.
King of the Pure Firmament wasn’t overly tall or broad of shoulder, yet exuded a bearing of command and control as he strode across the floor of the large arena; dark hair held in a warrior’s topknot kept in place by a crown-like hairpin and the thin beard that traced his jaw and mouth neatly groomed. He was clad in sleek white and gold metal armor that mixed plate and scale, and what first looked like a long flowing cape soon gave hints of being a mere illusory enchantment to add the flair without hampering movement.
His opponent was a larger man in both height and stature, carrying a similarly powerful presence in his own way. While both were gold-rankers, showing the agelessness that came with their level of power, Breath of Valor still somehow looked younger. His blonde hair was kept short and while his scarlet armor was most distinctive, it too bore the design of a suit that was made for combat and combat alone; a heavy plate that probably required the supernatural strength of a gold ranker to even move about in. And where the king so far looked to be carrying no weapon, a huge glaive with a heavy, curved edge was hovering at his side while wreathed in what looked to be a very localized whirlwind, complemented by another blade at his back and several daggers and similar weapons glimpsed at his waist.
“As you know, our Young Master down there is today’s challenger,” Little Crow murmured, their box’ enchantments keeping the worst of the noise from the gong at bay. “A fine warrior in all accounts that we’ve heard, having spent a surprising amount of time abroad for one of the local scions. He returned just a few months ago with tales of heroism and victory in the wider world.”
“Well, he sure is a pretty big guy,” Dragonfly noted. “Feels a bit like Gold with all that plate. Is that part of his path?”
“In a sense,” Little Crow confirmed. “Breath of Valor essences are might, swift, iron and juggernaut. Common essences all, as you might have noted, thus making him a great example in that rarity of concept does not make the warrior. And while all of his powers aren’t widespread, he has fought enough duels in his younger days to at least be a relatively known quantity. Or at least he was, as the man was silver when he left and gold on his return. Perhaps that was even the ploy all along? While you will soon see it in action, I will give you a hint; all that heavy equipment of his sure won’t seem that way when he uses them. But will it be enough to face the King? I will admit that I have my doubts, but the Valors wouldn’t have made this gambit if they didn’t think they stood a chance.”
“And the King?” Kite asked, seeing the two men sizing each other up at a respectable distance.
“Our dear monarch has ever been an ambitious one, or at least that is what the histories imply. There are a lot of essences out there that lend themselves well to dueling, with you Kite being an excellent example of certain combinations resulting in something unexpectedly potent. His majesty’s, however, isn’t as much of a surprise. Flesh, mirror, omen and nemesis. While it is a rather rare confluence, a path that adapts to be the antithesis of a foe does lend itself most well to the singular focus of the dueling arena.”
Kite could only nod along in agreement, having read of that particular confluence during his training with Gauntlet. While he had yet to face someone carrying it, it was most advised to do so with a team at one’s back so that the numbers and varying powers of the group wouldn’t give the shifting powers as much of an advantage even if the opponent in question had backup as well.
“And he is a swordsman?” Kite asked as he remembered what Little Crow had told them beforehand. “At least I would assume such from his name before ascending the throne?”
“Ah, yes. Thousand Blades as One does give it away,” the assassin agreed. “You will see plenty of blades before this is over, I assure you. He-”
Little Crow was interrupted by a spiritual poke from his gold-ranked senior brother who remained standing to witness the proceedings.
“It is time,” the man with the red mask announced softly, proven correct as Breath of Valor started calling out his challenge.
“I, Breath of Valor, the Descending Meteor of the Sundered Pass and Young Master of the Valor family, challenges you, King of the Pure Firmament, to a clash of paths. As a prize, I would have your throne and this kingdom, in accordance with the traditions dating back to our founding.”
His voice was like a clarion call, easily piercing the remnant echoes of the now silent gong which still echoed faintly in the arena. The king somehow matched it in volume, even though his voice was deeper, his tone one of surety rather than challenge.
“And in accordance with the traditions, I accept your challenge, Breath of Valor. You come before me knowing that the prize of failure will be exile on a quest of my choosing, the face and honor of your family at stake. Thus will our traditions continue, standing the test of time and the corruption of the outside world. May we both find tempering in the conflict to come, and may Hua-Xi stand stronger no matter the outcome.”
Even though Kite knew the words to be part of the ritual, they did carry the proper gravitas. All the crowds had remained silent, and it felt like one could hear a pin drop in the now silent arena. Then came the first signal, as all of the representatives of the mighty gently pulsed their auras, although carefully enough so as to not start knocking any observers unconscious. Then came the next, the second of what felt like spiritual heartbeats of pure anticipations. And finally came the third, slightly more powerful than those that came before; a surging signal of power that made the air feel heavy and thick, as if lightning would strike at any moment.
There was no fourth pulse, only the thunderclap of battle being joined.
