B6 Chapter 631: Ancient Witness, Finale
An endless, shallow ocean spread out around Xenanra from horizon to horizon. The sapphire blue waters hid nothing of the endless jungle of life only a short fifty strides below. Corals towered like oaks, sprouting glowing violet anemones as ribbon-winged fish flitted like songbirds through the waving tendrils. Just ahead, a basin held an overgrowth of blood-red water weeds, towering high enough they almost breached the furface. Waving in the current, shield-sized leaves and glistening white fruit parted to reveal the coil of a slumbering behemoth of ashen scale.
Twisting her will, she slid through the depths, racing through the midst of a school of passing orange fish. The water was freedom, and the warm embrace of home. Reaching out a hand, she slid it over the nearest specimen, grinning in delight at the creature darted out of reach.
It might have been an aeon since her world had been consumed in the fires of war, but it breathed through her as living memory.
Rolling onto her back, she stared up towards the surface, watching the sun glint off the water. Stilling to drift on the gentle currents that swept east-ward through this particular archipelago, Xenanra kept up with the fifty-seven different conversations she was having.
In one, she rested on the branch of a great tree of white blooms, speaking softly as a red-eyed man wept over his never-born son. In another, she listened and stirred a simmering pot of vehkmet tea, pausing every second rotation in the traditional manner. A woman sat across from her, pale and shaken from the mechanical simplicity of her first murder, so Xenanra offered words of bloodlust and passion to rouse the path-taker from her numbness. She could see the bitter twitch of rejection building in the woman’s eye, but that was the point. Sometimes catharsis needed a little prodding. In yet a third, she offered temper and wisdom, guiding one too young onto a Path that might see him return when he was ready.
Smiling in amusement, Xenanra willed herself to rise out of the depths. The wind swept over her skin with drying warmth. This world was so funny. All of the ones who had made it to her reach were beings of passion, driven and buoyed by a rare need to improve. And yet, there was so much caution and uncertainty! It was like they were birds who had never learnt to fly, yet had found themselves thrust over the cliff, terrified that they found the howl of the wind in their feathers joyous.
A strange thing, but such was the case with worlds which had languished in the first stage for so long. This wasn’t her first, and it wouldn’t be her last. If anything, places like this were the most satisfying. She found joy in helping the young through their earliest trials, and what better place to put her efforts than those that needed them most.
Plus, it was so much more entertaining! Worlds that progressed quickly were no fun. When the coming of the System still existed in living memory, or was even a few generations removed, the people still had their edge. They grew hard, and expected nothing while wanting for everything. They took the changes in stride, searching for every advantage they could — but there was rarely such a thing as joy in their hearts.
Much better when the people had grown fallow, developed expectations, and believed they were owed a life of sanity. So much chaos sprung from the moment the foundations of their worlds collapsed. Some wailed, some grew bitter, some collapsed, and some found a hunger like no other. That is what she loved so much.
Flipping back, Xenanra dived back down into the bright waters and enjoyed the taste of salt on her lips. For all her experience, she’d never encountered a world quite like this one.
Old worlds struggled, but she hadn’t seen one that railed against its own nature so strongly before. Something off had happened here, in its history. The natural mana of this place tinged so many of its inhabitants with a visceral rush when their natural energies were stimulated in times of great pressure and focus. That wasn’t the strange bit — this ‘bloodsong’ as the natives called it was rather common. But it was common in worlds that thrived in the Integration. She’d never heard of one where they stalled at the first stage for over ten millenia.
Oh, how she wished she could have clawed through time to bear witness to all that had led this world down its path. Alas, she was not the Watcher. She’d tried her hand at that path, but it was so dreadfully boring to be so limited in intervention. At least in a Crucible she could act in some small way — and the restrictions on her quintessence and Imperium were far lower.
Though, she was not entirely cut off. Surface observation was possible, and she had the small benefit of being able to follow those she’d personally had an influence in shaping.
Doubling back to circle around the basin of red waterweeds, Xenanra’s thoughts drifted to some of her charges. She was certain the change would come soon.
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Mere moments later, the world pulsed. She smiled, baring her triangular teeth. In an instant, she reached through her domain, sheltering those within from the blaring shock of the global notification. Her Imperium brushed up against something unbreakable, yet the system only moved to her demand. It was an intelligence beyond her: if she knew that the shock of the notification would be harmful to those undergoing the Crucible, so did it. Only with its acceptance could she block the notification. With all of her power, she was still a gnat before its might.
Even knowing the phase change would come soon, Xenanra had to admit she hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon. Despite all the oddities of this world, there really were some truly remarkable individuals lurking.
Technically, anyone who reached and bested a Crucible in the first tier was talented, but only in the general sense. That said, there were always a few in every integration that caught her interest. This time, her crop had been bountiful. Already, she’d met over a score who were worthy of notice. Of those, her first four and her most recent had been fascinating.
A small part of her mind flitted to a silver-haired giant slipping through a forest of towering trunks. He gripped the rose-wood hilt of his overlong blade, somehow both more and less burdened by it than he had been only hours before.
Taer had been driven in a way she hadn’t expected. He was old; far, far older than those she normally dealt with. Yet his age was no demerit, for he had remained at a low tier out of inordinate preparation and dedication to his cause. Good, tempered steel that one — he’d practically flown his way to embodiment. He would go far, maybe even to the very end.
Her focus shifted to the others she had found interesting. A single group. Her first. Xenanra’s smile turned impish as her gaze bore through the veil that separated her from Kaius and his team. Ancient magic and draconic power dripped from their bodies, yet one and all they stood frozen in sheer disbelief.
Kicking once to breach back into the sun, she watched the emotions warp. The simple confusion was best, as they slowly wrapped their head around the implications of someone else triggering the next phase. Gods, to be young again.
Kaius and his team were talented, perhaps inordinately so — but a world was a large thing, and old ones often held hidden depths. This would, she hoped, be the twisted knife in the kidney that they needed to hone their focus. The third phase was particularly brutal, and they would only continue to get worse. Even front-runners could stumble if they did not dedicate themselves to maintaining their momentum.
They had much to learn if they wanted to fulfil their grand ambitions.
She paused, flitting through her memories of their journey since leaving her care. At the very least, they hadn’t slacked. A good omen that they had slaughtered those criminals upon leaving the Depths. It proved that they had the edge to crush those that moved against them. She’d been worried for a bit there, given the nature of some of their Aspects. They’d need that steel in the days to come.
It had been fun to follow them. Their return to Deadacre had been a delectable treat, especially watching them delve into the ancient imperial ruins beneath the city — though she had wanted to scream when they’d destroyed that data bank. Her understanding of the history of this place was incomplete, but it was plain that the Empire had a great hand in the oddities of this place. Only more so, after what she had learned recently.
At the very least, Kaius and Porkchop had gotten beaten within an inch of their lives by that Mythril automaton for their idiocy. For a moment there, she’d been certain that would be the end of their Paths. But no! Fate had been with them that day. She’d known, of course, that Kaius’s heritage was an old one — but who would have guessed he had ties to an imperial duchy that just so happened to have a hand in the creation of the very automata that attacked them?
Their conversations with the creature, and the recording of the ancient duke had given her more of an insight into the history of this place than everything else she’d seen combined! By the System itself, she couldn’t wait until Kaius got the opportunity to properly search for the remnants of his ancestral holdings.
Even better, a Tyrant had struck right as they left! What a slaughter it had been, one that had pushed the team to the first stage of refinement so soon after they had left her care. Of course, Deadacre itself barely avoided being reduced to a smouldering ruin, but such losses were acceptable and expected for an Integration. Ascendancy mattered above all else.
It was after that the troubles came. The team had wandered to Dawntown, languishing in the mountains for what felt like an age. There was, perhaps, something to be said for the way they had encouraged the young and growing — but pedagogy was a task for the old and experienced, where progress came in infrequent spurts, not those who had barely started their own Path!
At least things had picked up when they’d made it to Baanswell. Delightfully pretty, that place — full of the blooms that she enjoyed most about her home. Especially the Wyrdwall. There, they’d had their first brush with true intrigue. Brawls with petty nobility, and the discovery of Ianmus’s old mentor’s disappearance had invigorated them once again. It was quite the opportunity they muscled their way into.
So many firsts in such a short time — their first brush with an Adamant being, close to the peak, an insight-focused Place of Power, and slaying a draconic greater beast! They’d even managed to find something of a lead towards the killers of Kaius’s father, thanks to their brush with that Gold void-user. A tale well worth their station, one far better than hiding in the mountains for a month.
Xenanra sighed, watching the distant youngsters scramble out of the underground chamber of the Wellspring. She hoped they could keep it up. The Proving was not a trial for the weak, and there would be plenty of strong contenders for them to clash with.