Hyperion Evergrowing

Norman had been having a bad month. The quadriad and the many preparations that needed to be completed prior to its commencement were a pain, though necessary. While Fracture boasted several powerful members and branches all across the vast territories of Merkys, they were far from the only power. For one of their own to hold the position of Spire Head at the Academy was a massive boon for their organisation, and much of that came from the direct increase in recruitment.

He had been scouted during his own tenure as a student, and after a brief stint as part of the adventurer retinue for a noble family, had ultimately accepted Fracture’s invitation. His story was not a rare one. His home, a small town in the capital province, had been attacked by monsters during their rushed harvest prior to turbulence. Norman still remembered how the ground had trembled, and stingers attached to scorpions the size of cows had burst up from under the feet of fleeing farmers.

As a boy of fifteen Norman had wet his blade for the first time, the sizzling blood of the monster he had taken down with four other men melting through the rapidly rusting iron of his sword. It had been the first time he had ever fought the hated enemies of humanity, the monsters who ate away at their territory, killing in an indiscriminate rampage across civilised lands. A week later two teams of adventurers had arrived from the capital, and together with the townsfolk who had fought back the scorpions, had found and exterminated the nest.

The memory of sounds of angry chittering echoing off the geometric walls of the vast network of caverns they had delved into to hunt down their quarry had been etched into Norman’s mind. How the smell of acrid blood had stained the cave’s floor, and how the soles of his boots had been melted through only an hour into the extermination. The day had earned him several levels, and his rapid rise had ultimately earned him a spot in the Empire’s most esteemed institution.

The Academy, while a place of education whose primary purpose was the raising and fostering of the Empire’s, and their allies' youth, was no stranger to politics and schemes. When the ancient and powerful families of the Empire arrived to spectate their spawn compete in the quadriad the unseen aspect of the Academy had burst to life. A warrior he may be, but during the competition his role was little more than a messenger. Vevosis wanted something important delivered, Norman would be the one given the task. The trust was flattering, but the work was not.

When one day he and the other Fracture members currently on the islands were brought into a meeting and told to prepare for the possibility of an attack, he hadn’t known what to think. Surely the Republic was incapable of such a feat. He had been on his way to give instructions to the Academy enforcers, men and women who’s association was with the Academy, not the order that sought to protect all of humanity, to heighten their alertness during patrols and personnel checks when a bald student had climbed through a window right before him.

And then everything had gone mad. A monster had infiltrated the Academy, which was unheard of. But the creature had also integrated itself into several aspects of life on the archipelago. It had somehow gotten wind of the expedition, joined without rousing any suspicion, then aided in the excavation of the temple complex. When Spire Head Vevosis had led Norman and several other Fracture members to the expedition site, it had managed to flee underground.

While the monster’s presence had lingered in the depths of the temple, another incident had drawn Norman and his allies away. The attack they had been preparing for in secret had come at the worst possible time. Caught flat footed, they had needed to scramble to defend Dimid from the invaders, even if it allowed the monster roaming the island to temporarily escape. But during the battle Vevosis’s priority had suddenly shifted, and having located the monster the Spire Head had directed them to capture it at all costs.

He hadn’t understood the reasoning, hadn’t understood why they would abandon their duty during a crisis. But Norman now knew. The prize was worth almost any sacrifice, and the ends would justify the means. So letting the creature escape after they had all but abandoned those they were supposed to protect had almost unmade them.

In the investigations that had followed in the days after the invasion Norman had lost contact with Vevosis and several other key members of their organisation. It was possible that their failure would cost them everything. When a blood copy of his master had appeared one evening with a set of written instructions, Norman hadn’t hesitated to depart. Strings had been pulled, favours turned in. They had to find the monster with amber blood, if they did, and if they could prove its value, then there would be no punishment.

Leaving the Academy had been the first challenge, and he and the few agents who had escaped most of the ire of the Academy’s council were unable to move freely. The imperial navy patrolled the seas, and traffic to and from the islands were heavily policed. But a ship had come for them regardless, Norman wasn’t sure how his master had orchestrated the ploy, but he had managed. A week after the incident he and his team had arrived on the mainland, and had reunited with several more of their people.

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Utilising private portal networks they had jumped from city to city, skipping north with frightening efficiency. Only when the blood clone they were travelling with had sensed the vague location of their quarry to their south had they started their hunt in earnest.

===

“Something is wrong.” Palen said, and while Norman couldn’t see her face from under her crimson hood, he could tell by the tone of her voice that she was scowling. “Look, there’s too much activity along the northern wall.”

Norman pulled on the reins of his horse, the sturdy beast’s trot coming to an end. From their position atop a nearby hill, Luriem looked more active than he had ever seen it before. The grim times they were living through either made the nightlife of a city boom, or in the case of Luriem, die out almost entirely. He was tired, having spent the past day riding hard, trying to follow the blood trail of their quarry. Whoever, or whatever this Leif was, they were a pain to locate, even with the blood clone possessing a sample with which to track the monster. .

A second horse came to a stop beside his own, Palen raising a spyglass to her eye as she scouted the city. To his right, a third rider sat silently on their own steed. Hooded and dressed in red like him and Palen, the third figure was hardly normal. Vevosis’s clone couldn’t speak, and its sanguine presence was distinctly unnerving.

Not that I’ll ever say it out loud. He thought, watching as the robed clone lifted a hand, pointing towards the city. No, not the city. Beyond it.

“What is it, my lord?” Palen asked, her eyes as fixated on the movements of the clone as he was.

‘It’s here.’ It gestured, its hands moving in a complex pattern. ‘Less than two hours. Went north. Find contacts in city.’

Norman saluted, hand to chest, Palen copying him a moment later. She retrieved a communication crystal, relaying their findings to the larger team still a few hours west.

===

“What did you do? Tell me, subhuman!” Norman yelled, one hand firmly holding onto the collar of the muscular, grey skinned demikin.

“We attempted to apprehend the target. Things simply got… a little out of hand.” Kurt replied, his expression bland, almost uninterested. A bandage covered one half of his face, and his features were more gaunt than Norman remembered.

The musky room located below a tavern of middling quality was large enough to comfortably hold twice the number of people within it. The tension that hung in the air was suffocating, and Norman had to fight down his irritation to not accidentally extinguish every flame in the building.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” He said through gritted teeth.

The demikin shrugged. “What can I say, we failed.”

Norman’s fist connected with the other man’s nose, the lantern hanging from the ceiling snuffing out, plunging the room into darkness. With a flex of will he returned the flame to its proper place, and glared at the demikin with unhidden hatred. The large man had taken a step back, and he didn’t raise a hand to wipe away the blood slowly oozing down over his lips.

The demikin didn’t react, but his companions did. A curvaceous, one armed woman lounging against the back of a couch raised a hand, and the tension in the room turned acrid. Norman felt the hairs stand on end, and he tasted death in the air. Palen drew steel, and the handful of thugs in the meeting did likewise, though whether that was to try and fight against them or the woman Norman couldn’t tell.

“Don’t touch him.” Maline drawled, her eyes gleaming. “His beautiful face has already taken enough punishment tonight.”

“Another word from you and I’ll burn the venomous tongue out of your mouth. Norman spat, kindling dark fire between his fingers. “Maybe you’ll learn your place with both arms missing.”

Kurt tensed, the threat causing him to react more than the physical blow had. He opened his mouth, only for his teeth to clack together as the blood clone shifted in place. The demikin, his traitorous woman and every other sell-sword and thug in the room stiffened, and Norman knew from experience that an icy cold had lanced through their veins.

He glanced at the clone, and it messaged him through gestures. He nodded, turning back to their esteemed company. “No more games. You were offered a substantial amount of coin to provide information as to the whereabouts of the target. You were not asked to capture them. But you did anyway, and now the army is sniffing around where it doesn’t belong. You have wronged us, and that was a mistake. We will give you a chance to replay the debt you now owe.”

Fury built in the demikin’s eyes, but he remained still and silent even after regaining control over his body.

“Gather the strongest among you, retrieve your weapons and armour. We have no need for the weak, they will only serve to empower our target and make our task more difficult. You will join our hunt, and this time you will not fail us. If you do, there will be consequences. If you don’t, there may still be a reward.” Norman said, crossing his arms.

There was an elongated moment of silence as his words were processed. Palen’s communication crystal pinged, and Norman felt anticipation build in his chest. Finally, after almost a month of nonstop travel, this would soon be over. He glanced at the clone, which made a gesture that it had repeated several times over the past hour.

‘Unmoving. Close.’

“Fine.” Kurt said, rolling his shoulders. The demikin glanced around the room, earning reluctant nods. “When do we depart?”

“Immediately.”