[Tian] 1:20 (Patreon)

WE RETURN TO THORNTHISTLE.

The journey with the Websmith cut our travel time by more than half; she can banish any monster that tries to attack us, sending them away either through some sort of magic, or through her sheer size alone. Monsters are not foolish— even if they are relying on the pure instinct that something larger is more of a threat than something smaller.

As such, we return back to the city just before the false night ends. Once that happens, there is only one more period of false day— where only Rubrum inhabits the sky— until it sets and true night begins after. A crowd gathers at the gates of Thornthistle, cheering, shouting with excitement as we reach the tall walls.

“The Keepers of the Grove have returned!” someone yells. Nindran waves a hand, holding her chin high as the crowd erupts into another cheer.

There is chanting. The loud shouting of names. “Websmith! Websmith! Websmith!” The exhilaration bleeds over to the others— there are some calling out the names of Nindran, Beihal, and even Seiled as we make our entrance to the city. However, the loudest chant— besides for the Websmith— goes to the leader himself.

“Kalmat! Kalmat! Kalmat!”

I glance over at the man. He smiles and waves at the crowd, but it almost seems like he is doing just enough to appease them. In fact, I have noticed that he seemed bothered throughout most of the return trip. Does it have to do with what the Websmith said to him? If I am to guess, I believe it is highly likely the case.

Our procession reaches the den of the Keepers of the Grove. It is surrounded by people I recognize but have not truly spoken to before. Only Nelrel stands out amongst the faces. She steps forward, holding Kalmat’s gaze. The cheering almost stops, a hush envelops the watchers, softneign to a mere susurration.

“You’ve done it,” she says, her voice almost like a whisper.

The man smiles. His uncertainty from before vanishes. In a single motion, he draws his blade and raises it to the air. His Aspect flares up, forming a pillar that reaches for the sky.

“People of Thornthistle, heed my call! The Websmith has heard of our plight; the Esh and the En controlling our city have been defeated; and all those you see standing before you have been marked by the Elocunive. Utana has suffered under Galgom’s tyranny for long enough. Now is the time: rise up with us and we shall free the Pishitim, ending that monster’s reign once and for all!”

Whether it be due to Kalmat’s Feat or the Websmith’s presence, the crowd roars in agreement. Lifeblood gathers around the area— more than I have ever seen before. The large clusters that I usually see during battles grow even larger, joining together to form small clouds of the red blobs. There is so much vigor here, it is electric. It is like they are ready to fight there and then. And they get their chance.

There is a shriek as a blast crashes into a group towards the back of the crowd. My gaze snaps up, seeing the floating figure descending from Caerulum. An Esh— no, a swarm of Esh falls from the sky. Dozens of them fill the air above Thornthistle. From beyond the gates, an army of En marches our way. A gray tide washes over the Flourishing Flatlands. Galgom’s machines are back.

Panic and fear replaces the excitement from earlier. The crowd disperses as more beams of light rain down upon them. An Esh lands on a rooftop, its glowing blade held out at its side.

“EXTERMINATE THE INSURRECTIONISTS. PREVENT THEIR UPRISING FROM SPREADING ANY FURTHER.”

Beihal rushes forward, pulling out his lightshooter as Kalmat’s Aspect morphs into a spear. The pair take aim at the machine—

And it is swatted aside by the Websmith. Her scythe-like arms slices its body in half, sending two broken metal parts flying in different directions. For a moment, the Keepers of the Grove stop to stare at the falling Esh. One of Galgom’s elite machines, destroyed, just like that.

“EX— EX—”

Chunks of its body lands on the ground, with metallic bits rolling on the ground, bouncing with each clink, until the light goes out in its eyes. The Websmith walks forward, the clicking of her feet accompanied by her booming voice.

“Machines. Metallic constructs with no life. You have wrought destruction to Utana long enough. No longer shall the Pishitim’s people flee from your oppression. Return to your master. Tell him that his time has come to an end!”

Needle-like threads shoot out of her abdomen. They weave through the air like tendrils, each of them about the width of an arm. They pierce through rows and rows of the En, grounding the approaching mass to a halt, and aiming for the Esh filling the skies. The flying machines manage to mostly avoid the attacks, zipping around the threads, or blasting them out of the air with their beams before they are impaled.

The Websmith does not just crush them all in an instant. But this display of power— the way she is able to confront this army all by herself— draws the Keepers of the Grove forward. The elements blast forward at the reeling En. I watch as Seiled and Beihal fire their lightshooters at the joints of the machines.

Their attacks knock off the limbs of the En, literally disarming them for other Elementalists to destroy. Keshiy sends a pillar of flames crashing down at those that are still standing, while Nindran uses her Feat, the Ray of Esh, to bring down one of the flying machines above.

Kalmat’s Aspect forms into a wing. It does not carry him up, but it lets him glide through the air almost like a bird. He leaps into the air, boosted by a jet of flames, using his black wings to guide him as he cuts down the Esh under the watchful guidance of Caerulum.

It is almost one-sided— Galgom’s robot army is utterly powerless against so many of those marked by the Elocunive, as well as the Websmith herself. As such, I mostly keep away from the fighting. I use my own Ray of Esh to defeat an Esh that tries to attack me, but more seems to come my way. I escape their attacks with Void Walk, only to appear right before a hail of golden blasts from the En.

I narrow my eyes, glancing at the oncoming barrage. Then I bring a hand up, speaking softly.

“The Guardian’s Blessing.”

Gray, glinting threads rise up from the ground, sewing itself into a sphere around me. It becomes almost like a ball of yarn, except with me in the middle, protected from any outside attacks. Interesting… and useful, I think to myself as I hear more explosions coming from beyond this barrier.

Eventually, it recedes back into the earth like rain into mud, and I can survey the battlefield once more. The En and the Esh lie defeated, filling the streets of Thornthistle with thor broken parts. The sounds of fighting are replaced by the cries of victory. It is a crushing defeat for Galgom’s forces.

The Websmith stands over a pile of destroyed machines. Kalmat slowly floats back to the ground. Nindran seems to be goading the people of Thornthistle into shouting more praises, while Keshiy goes around trying to reassure those in hiding that it is over.

We have won.

***

Kalmat lays out a map for us to see— it depicts the world of Utana. All four of its domains are there, split into four quadrants. The Flourishing Flatlands, where we are at, lies on the bottom left of the map. On the bottom right is the Desolate Caverns. Top left is the Frosty Mountains. And the final quadrant, all the way at the top right, is the Blazing Desert.

The point where all four domains meet is where the Pishitim awaits, held captive by Galgom. His Hive apparently crashed there, over Crimsonhome. Was it by accident or on purpose? It does not matter. He is there. The city under his rule. And that is where we strike.

“The journey to Galgom’s Hive will not take long— not with the Websmith leading us,” Kalmat explains, marking a line across the map. He glances over at Keshiy. She seems exhausted. It is a day after the attack on the city, and she has been working non-stop, recruiting more members to our cause. “How many Elementalists are willing to make this trip with us?”

“In addition to the new members we got since we left, we have…” Keshiy says a number.

Nindran whistles. “That’s a lotta people.”

“It is!” Seiled excitedly pipes up. “And we have both Tian and the Websmith on our side now. By the Grovetender— Galgom stands no chance!”

“Nothing is for certain just yet,” Kalmat says, crossing his arms. He eyes me with a raised brow. “How many of those ginsoul pills do you have left, Tian?”

“Eight.” I rest a hand on the novacloth pouch. “However, I would prefer not to use more than half of them in this upcoming battle.” It is better to err on the side of caution— even if Galgom is truly defeated this time around, it does not imply that I will be able to make an immediate return to Jhisie.

Kalmat nods, accepting my statement without argument. “And with the Websmith aiding us, the chance of losing to Galgom himself is slim.” He rubs a hand on his chin, in thought. “Our goal should not be to slay Galgom— not after our failure the first time around. It should be to restrain him. Prevent him from ever making a return.”

“The Websmith’s threads are tougher than iron,” Beihal adds from the side. He wears a confident grin on his face as he taps a finger on his lightshooter. “It’s stronger than even the Esh’s adamantine. As long as she can catch Galgom, he won’t be able to escape.”

The Websmith herself is not present in the room— she waits aboveground, almost being reverently observed by the people of the city. She is like a watchful sentinel, filling the streets with order as the Heavens in the night would with their light.

“Can you do that?” The question from Kalmat draws my attention. I smile politely. Confidently.

“Of course.”

“Alright.” He glances away from me, turning his attention back to the map. “Now with Tian and the Websmith’s role settled—”

The discussion ends with roles assigned to each individual in the room. Anyone with the Mark of the Elocunive is given an important task— be it leadership or direct combat. I wait in my room, meditating quietly to myself until I hear the rapping on the door.

“Come in,” I call out, getting to my feet. The door swings open, and Kalmat walks in. I eye him as he stops to take in the simple layout. “Did you need something?” I ask, drawing his attention to me.

“I came to check in on you.”

“To ensure I know my role?” I tilt my head up slightly. “I do. And I very much look forward to defeating Galgom a second time.”

“I am aware.” He shakes his head. “It is about your Aura, Tian. Have you still not unlocked your Aspect?”

“Ah.” I place a hand on my abdomen, feeling only the Qi cycle through my body. “Unfortunately, I have not.” Glancing over at him, I raise a brow. “Do you know of a secret technique that may help with it?”

“If only,” Kalmat laughs. “I do not have anything else to offer you, Tian.” He pulls over a chair and takes a seat. “Nothing but some words of advice.”

I settle down back on my bed, fixing my gaze on him. “What is this advice?”

“It’ is the same one my mentor, Granvil, told me.” He speaks name in a morose voice. “And how he taught me to realize my Aspect.” I listen as he leans forward, regaling a story. “I always believed that Bladewielders were supposed to be some of the greatest heroes of Utana. That they had to be brave.

“After all, they would lead Elementalists into battle, slaying the monsters that threaten our towns and cities. So, when I started down the path of a Bladewielder, I thought that was what I had to be. I trained my spirit— I faced down creatures as a child, monsters that were twice my size and could gobble me up in a single bite, hoping that I would overcome my fear of them.

“Granvil had to save me multiple times. I was a helpless boy, barely even able to conjure up a ball of fire, let alone anything strong enough to kill a drakenwyrm. Finally, after I nearly died to a patrol of En, my mentor sat me down and ordered me to never do something so reckless ever again.

“I asked him, ‘Why? Why can’t I unlock my Aspect? After everything I’ve been through? Am I too weak?’ He told me, ‘No. You are not weak, but you are a fool.’ I’m sure you can imagine how caught off-guard I was by his words.”

Kalmat chuckles, relaxing slightly. I narrow my eyes, a hand covering my chin. “Truly. If you had died then, how could you possibly have challenged Galgom in the future?”

“That’s what I thought too.” He stares at the palm of his hand, almost nostalgic. “Until Granvil explained that I would never unlock my Aspect with what I was doing.

“I had assumed that my Aura would manifest its powers as long as I fought like what I thought a Bladewielder was. It was an ideal I pursued. But it was not my ideal. Not the reason why I wanted to fight. It was only something I realized when Granvil told me the reason he was fighting Galgom. The source behind his Aspect.”

“What was it?” I ask, curiously peering at Kalmat.

The man smiles. He faces me, the expression on his face unchanging. As if he is a child keeping a naughty secret from his parents. Finally, he speaks.

“Granvil was afraid,” Kalmat says simply. “He was afraid of dying. He was afraid of what Galgom would do to Utana, the Pishitim. And because of that, he could fight.”

I frown. “Was that it?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, there is silence. I sit on the bed, letting my Qi cycle naturally as I consider this. When I do manage to gather my thoughts, I only have a single question to ask.

“What about you? Where do you draw your Aspect from?”

“Me?” Kalmat’s gaze wanders over to the ceiling. His arms drop loosely to his sides, hands balling tightly into fists. “I am mad; mad at Galgom for all that he has taken from me; mad at all he has done to the others; and mad at the world for falling under his rule.” He takes a deep breath, facing me once more. “This anger— anger at the injustice of it all— it gives me strength. It makes me strong, so that I can protect the weak, so that I can save those that are suffering.”

Placing a hand on his chest, Kalmat finishes.

“It is this passion that lets me draw my Aura, turn it into a weapon— into my blade— to fight with. My Aspect would never have manifested if I never realized that.”

“A passion?” I whisper, looking down at my hand. That is… interesting. “I never would have thought cowardice would be a source of power.”

“Perhaps not in your world,” Kalmat says, getting to his feet. “But it is one in Utana.” He starts for the doorway, before facing me one last time. “I hope this helps you, Tian. I really do. I would prefer you to be as strong as possible for when we assault the Hive.”

“That is not a worry to have.” I face him confidently. There is still time for me to tap into my Aura, unleashing my Aspect out. However, even if that fails… “I have defeated Galgom once before, I will do it again. I am certain of it.”