Crimson Ascension

The sun disappeared from the sky, falling down the horizon as if it planned on joining the earth's embrace. The sight concerned Draven, but he heard no impact, felt no quake in the ground—another mystery. The Old World was filled with them, he realized.

His group had climbed to the top of a ruined building, only tall enough for a Sovran to survive its collapse—a safe choice, if there was any such thing. A small fire crackled in the silent night, sending warmth to those sitting around its flickering flames.

Finn was fast asleep, immersed in Daesvor, if he had to guess. The earlier fight only made his impatience to become stronger evident. Draven knew his friend resented the absence of an Az'Tenri Circlet of his own, but there was nothing he could do about it; such remnants were not commonly found.

"I once urged you to wait for a better opportunity to open your meridians," Helvan broke the silence. "It was a mistake—one I am glad you did not follow. The noose tightens around our necks; careful choices are an unavailable luxury."

"It's fine, really." Draven waved him away, absently cycling the inner releases of his Dyad Vessel without frowning. "I just wish you told me what's ahead so I can prepare for it."

"Very well. Though there are things I cannot reveal, how to become a stronger Eminence is not amongst them." The raven-haired Sovran poked at the fire with a pensive frown. "First, however, we need to focus on raising each of your attributes to +5; that will unlock what are commonly known as traits."

"Traits, eh?"

"It is better if I show you," he said.

A foreign scripture popped into Draven's view. It was not as complete as Draven wished to be, which was undoubtedly Helvan's conscious choice.

Osenthar von Karth

PER: Eternal Moment [+100]

REL: Chrono Sever [+100]

The attributes are different. He wasn't joking about not finding other people with enhanced Durability and Recovery. Draven did not know what the acronyms stood for, but their meaning was not what Helvan wanted to convey.

"Eternal Moment and Chrono Sever," Draven muttered the words before the scripture vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. "It's like a Providence or something?"

"Not quite. Providences and Maledictions are a form of Az'Tenri Art that one can activate at will to achieve a greater effect." Helvan frowned, contemplating his next words. "Attributes remain active once unlocked. Some do require hexion to function, some do."

"Well, since you're in a talkative mood, what is a Malediction?" Draven pushed for answers.

"It is a double-edged sword. A curse and a blessing at once. Dyad Vessel, for once, has no negative side effects on its user." Helvan raised an eyebrow. "So far as I can tell. It only unleashes pain upon its wielder with explicit consent."

"Were it a Malediction, you would not have such a choice. Most often than not, the consequences to its user are harsher than to their foes." The raven-haired Sovran chuckled at the concern on Draven's face. "Still, power, another trick to turn the tides of a battle is always welcome. Make no mistake."

"I guess you're right." Draven swallowed his hesitation. "I'd be the one to choose when it activates, either way."

Helvan only stared, his eyes obsidian eyes empty.

"Tomorrow, we will push your Durability to +5. Once that is accomplished, I will teach you how to open your meridians in the way only an Archon can," he said before disappearing in the ruins.

Draven still felt both Helvan and Corvanis's heartbeats in the night. They walked around, sometimes descending into the ruins. One thing was certain: it was their methodical patrol that kept the dozens of other heartbeats at bay.

When he assumed a cross-legged position, intent on refilling his hexion reserves, anxiety refused to relinquish its viscous hold on his focus. He beckoned and imbued the hexion, directing it to the Az'Tenri circlet, all the while wondering if the four of them were strong enough to fend off all surrounding hexbeasts if they broke the impasse.

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***

The ground rumbled as a row of blood spikes broke the black, granulated stone, barreling through the earth and impaling two hexbeasts in the stomach. Draven jumped to the side, barely dodging as a red-scaled lizard pounced at where he had just been.

In a swift motion, he rotated his body and drove a punch at the creature's skull. His hexion-enhanced strike cracked the bone, but not enough to kill it outright. Dyad Vessel unfolded, melting the beast's scales and flesh near its chest.

Draven rolled to the side, dodging a wind blade aimed at his neck. Close. He clenched his fist, compressing a blood sphere until the refined hexion whistled like metal cutting wind, before launching it at the impaled hexbeasts.

Two down. He turned around, facing the victim of Dyad Vessel, only for a wind to strike him in the face. Shit! He raised a red sphere of protection around himself, anticipating a wound, but the ensuing wind blade only cracked the shield.

Draven scoffed at the hexbeast rage as it thrashed against the dome of crystalline blood, only to produce minor scratches. There's underestimating and overestimating, I guess. The three lizards that ambushed the group were at the Median Reverence realm, weak enough for him to handle.

Still, their ability to command natural elements with hexion alone was puzzling. It almost felt as if they did not draw their magic from the Six Paths, but from something else.

"A question for another time." Draven let the sphere of blood dissolve.

The hexbeast screeched, eyes red with wrath, before pouncing at him like a rabid animal. Draven positioned his body to the side, avoiding the bite while the Hemomorph's Mantle enveloped his arms and legs. He grabbed the creature by the neck, ignoring the pain as it thrashed, dug its claws into his chest, and broke its neck.

Three down.

"You are getting better at this," Corvanis walked up to him. "But your way of fighting is still suboptimal at best. Why are you not using the Art of Ruling to command their blood? Every drop of spilled blood is a weapon in your arsenal."

Draven frowned, considering the Sovran's criticism. Once, he might have taken the man's words as a personal attack. Now, devoid of the obscuring veil of hatred, he understood Corvanis only meant to help.

"I'm not sure," Draven confessed. "I never really got around to trying to master it… I was waiting for Myra to teach me"

"You are strong enough to do it, not to mention your affinity." The Sovran paced around the beasts, breaking their skulls with his bare hands before retrieving their black cores. "I have once almost died to a Mender."

"Oh?" That caught his attention.

"Do not take the rabble you fought as an example. Menders are a dangerous sort of people. The man I fought was blind, but he could track my movements better than any foe I ever fought." Corvanis shivered at the memory. "Even a scratch was enough of an opening to allow him to wreak my body from within."

"So he didn't just emit, he kept control over his attacks even after they hit." Draven nodded, the realization striking him like a bucket of cold water. "That's… I hadn't realized… I didn't even think of fighting like that."

"Most people do not." Helvan approached, carrying Finn's sleeping form over his shoulder. "That is why Hierarchy Stands are so coveted. The only way to become stronger is to challenge the strong—to venture outside of your comfort zone."

Draven grasped the three small cores in his hand and willed Dyad Vessel to absorb them. The fabric that made the obsidian core dissolved as its hexion poured inside the circlet. He felt rather than saw two new attribute points forming inside his awareness and joining the one he had accumulated in the last night's worth of training.

Just one more.

"Helvan, I'll need a few minutes," Draven said, looking around.

The hexbeasts surrounding them had grown to the near fifties, some of which were strong enough to make him hesitate. Most were in the earlier ranks of Reverence, but Draven could sense the ominous Presence of a Median Eminence. Assigning his attributes in an open field was risky, but the beasts seemed content with just keeping their distance.

Helvan sneered. "I have not grown so weak that I need the protection of a Lesser Eminence. Go on, boy, we will survive your absence for a few minutes."

Ignoring the mockery, Draven let his reserve pour inside the circlet, drown it with hexion. The remnant absorbed, draining his astra until barely a fifth of its capacity remained. The first attribute point had taken one core and nearly half of his reserve, while the successive ones took more and more.

Sweat drenched his back as he remembered Helvan's attributes.

With a deep breath, Draven sat on the ground, assuming a cross-legged posture and assigning all the hexion of his circlet to Durability. Pain broke his body in more ways than one. His bones were shattered and remade. His skin cracked and mended.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, welcoming it.

All at once, the surrounding hexbeast howled. What? The heartbeats that had been stagnant, calm, turned berserk as they charged at Draven's direction as if commanded.

Helvan drew the thin silver blade from his hip, all levity falling from his body like dust.