Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

157. Ancient Wind Spell



Alaric tossed Dara'k's warning out the window. How bad could a single spell be?!

Well, there was that one time when he tried to heal himself and lost more than half his Aether Reserves just because he was too distracted to focus. Given how deep his aether reserves were, he had to spend the better half of a whole day actively replenishing them.

Alaric froze… 'Right… That one time.'

[ You have some distractions you want to get rid of… ? ] his guardian asked.

[ A few, ] the boy replied as he rushed up to the golden eagle that was just about to take flight.

"Can I prepare first? I want to be able to focus," the boy told the High Sentinel. The Eagle tilted his head with curiosity mixed with a hint of confusion… "Whatever works for you, human."

"Thank you…" The boy bowed.

He walked back to Lucy, disrupting a disturbing conversation she was having with Byron. The girl's brows were knitted as she listened to his words, only for him to stop mid-sentence and acknowledge Alaric's presence.

The blonde guard merely sneered and walked away. "What's his problem?"

"He's… always like that. Only person he doesn't disagree with is the Matriarch," the girl responded, "Is something wrong?"

Alaric nodded and pointed up to a nest further down the valley, "There is an injured Eagle up there. I would like you to heal him."

The girl nodded, and the Eagles responded to what they'd heard, lifting the nest with intricate wind magic until it rested on the floor where the humans could access it. To aid the girl in this task, he replenished her aether reserves, doing well to ignore her obvious shock at how much he still had to spare.

While she handled the healing, he walked up to Scarlett and sighed, "Scarlett…"

"You don't have to explain yourself," the girl stopped him, shaking her head. Her expression was warm despite the dirt that now marred her olive skin in patches, "I'm a former assassin. Trust me, if Schiller hadn't said anything about that, you'd never have known. We all have to survive somehow. We'll talk about it another time."

"Still friends?"

"Of course. You're not getting rid of me that easily," she smiled, "So… what exactly has come over you?"

Alaric opened his mouth to speak, then thought more on it. Wouldn't telling her about clearing distractions for a spell only give a malicious person the tools to harm him? Malicious, aka Byron.

"I'll explain it once we have the Storm Orbs," the boy assured her with a tight-lipped smile. "And finally, everyone, I just want to say this so it puts me at ease. If we don't get the Storm Orbs, I will pay you each compensation worth a single Storm Orb."

"That's stupid," Byron scoffed.

"That's fine by me. It's my way of saying 'Thank you' for everything," With that, Alaric spun on his heel and rejoined the High Sentinel, grinning from ear to ear. His heart was thumping heavily in his chest, with a rush of adrenaline sending goosebumps all over his skin.

[ That last jab was unnecessary. ] Alia sighed.

[ Let me be petty in peace, Alia. ] The boy replied giddily.

[ So childish! ] the guardian chuckled.

By the time he'd finished all these seemingly tiny and insignificant tasks, a few groans could be heard coming from the Eagles hovering around them.

"What's that boy thinking?" "He should just tell us if he can't do it." "Does he need his mother to remind him how to invoke the power of the Constellations?"

A chorus of laughter burst out from the crowd… but Alaric was unbothered by it. If anything, it reminded him of how similar Aether Beasts were to humans. They were honest though… Those were their honest opinions and emotions. Humans were capable of much worse.

Alaric reached the High Sentinel and nodded, "Now, I'm ready."

"Are you sure, human?" the golden eagle asked, this time giving Alaric pause, "I only know of one human that's ever been comfortable performing the spell… and that was a very long time ago. He had plenty of aether to spare but even then, it didn't seem like it was enough, as others with boundless aether had attempted the spell and failed."

Alaric considered the great Eagle's words. Perhaps there was something to the 'ancient spell.' Still, it changed nothing.

The boy frowned but still nodded, "I won't know if I don't try."

The golden beast narrowed its eyes at him, holding the tension for a few seconds before turning away, "Alright then… Dara'k, bring him."

The High Sentinel raised his giant wings and took to the sky in a single wingbeat. By the time the golden eagle flapped a second time, it was well past ten meters in the air, propelling itself even higher with each wingbeat.

Alaric climbed on top of Dara'k and, with a couple of graceful wingbeats, they followed. His party members, albeit reluctantly, were each allowed to ride atop a Heaven-Crested Eagle to speed up the process. At once, the large group of Eagles surged like a flock of migratory birds, venturing deeper into the mountains.

The magnitude of aether humming in the air threatened to turn Alaric deaf. Each one of these creatures was a master at controlling the wind. In a way, it made them stronger than other creatures of the sky yet also reliant on their abilities.

Marvellous as they were, the journey had much more to offer his eyes. He looked around at the nests they flew past.

Heaven-Crested Eagles of all shapes and sizes peeked out from their nests. Some nests were on the small side while a few others spanned large enough to fit a small house, holding families of these marvelous creatures within them.

He caught glimpse of their young as well, birds with feathers whiter than snow with only the slightest hints of gold to them. Their beaks were also smaller and where a rainbow-coloured crest should have been, there was a red line instead.

The boy's curiosity piqued the deeper they flew in. Deeper into the Barren Mountains, he saw the clouds get darker. Flashes of lightning illuminated the Barren Mountains with the winds getting more and more unstable.

There was a storm brewing.

"Hey, Dara'k… I've been meaning to ask. Where do you get Storm Orbs?" Alaric asked the eagle as he passively observed the storm clouds looming in the distance.

"Hah… Why would I tell you that, impudent human?" the Eagle snapped at him, then turned to the other Eagles flying with them, "Hey guys, this weak fledgling of a protector wants to know how we 'get' Storm Orbs."

Laughter erupted through the Heaven-Crested Eagles.

"Perhaps he thinks we mine them from the bottom of the Barren Mountains," another quipped, rousing even more laughter.

Alaric's eyes went wide, "That's not what I think at all. How can you say that in the Old Tongue? That's a lie."

The Eagle that had just spoken turned to Alaric with a dangerous glint in their eye, "We don't lie in the Old Tongue."

"Then how did you claim something that wasn't true?"

"Did you hear me 'claim' anything, lad?" the Eagle squawked angrily.

"Hey, Jarg'an, backup. You don't want to get into trouble with the High Sentinel," Dara'k hissed at the agitated Eagle, banking upwards so his body would shield Alaric's, "And you… Weird kid! Don't go saying things you're not aware of. The Old Tongue might stop us from speaking lies… but it doesn't inhibit Speculation."

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"Speculation…?" the boy repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a foreign concept he'd never heard of.

[ Yes, Alaric. Speculation is the faucet of the Old Tongue I left for you to figure out. You mentioned it back with the naiad but didn't even realise how powerful it truly is. ]

Alaric paused… 'Wait… Speculation allows… misdirection?'

[ There you go. ] The guardian chirped, [ So be careful about what you hear. Watch for the tone and context. A brilliant liar can have everyone around them speculate and lead themselves down the wrong path, all to conceal the truth, even in the Old Tongue. ]

Alaric didn't have to think much about this as they reached their destination shortly. Looking back, he saw his friends on the backs of Eagles, keeping their distance.

He looked in front and drew a sharp breath. He'd seen large nests before… but this. This trumped them all.

This was a dead gigantic tree that had been repurposed, bent, pecked, scratched, twisted and weaved with logs, branches, twigs and leaves until it submitted to the skill of the flying weavers, making the largest nest Alaric had ever seen in his life easily competing with the size of the Sisters of Fragrance, the largest building in Melbourne.

It had four entrances, each at least four times larger than Alaric. One greeted him, two were on the sides, while the last was at the top, tilted to the side to create a makeshift shade that protected the inside from rain.

Despite the grandeur, something was wrong with this one. Despite its logic-defying build, it was, in a way, the weakest of all the nests.

The High Sentinel hovered above it, his voice thundering, "A Storm Orb in this nest detonated just a day ago… and we find ourselves unable to fix the nest, let alone replace it in time for the next storm."

"Replace it?" Alaric wondered, then his eyes went wide, 'Wait, detonated?! They can detonate?!!!'

"Yes, replace it. Storm Orbs are the cornerstones of our homes. They protect nests from the powerful storm winds when their masters can't—while we sleep," the High Sentinel explained.

Alaric nodded…

"Why can't you replace the Storm Orb? You're the only ones known to have Storm Orbs in the whole of Valeria?" Alaric asked out of curiosity.

"Yes… We are the only ones, indeed. The process of making one is long, though. So we don't have any Storm Orbs to put here," the High Sentinel explained.

Alaric tried his best to keep from gawking, 'Make…? Wait! They MAKE THEM?'

[ Bees make honey. I don't see you hounding them. ]

'Right,' he coughed, 'Must maintain composure.'

Oblivious to this short commentary, the High Sentinel continued, "There is, however, another way to save this nest."

Alaric nodded in understanding, "The spell."

"Yes… We have an ancient spell we've kept around for over a thousand years. It's powerful enough to nullify the need for Storm Orbs in a nest. This nest should have more than enough Storm Orbs in it for your party… Cast the spell and they are yours for the taking," the High Sentinel's voice rumbled.

It sounded so simple, 'There must have been a catch, right?'

He was helping the Heaven-Crested Eagles save a nest that could hold quite a few of them and in exchange, they would give him the Storm Orbs inside it. What was he missing? It was pure give and take.

No matter how he put it, no hidden twist came to mind.

"Sooo… how does the spell go?" Alaric asked the High Sentinel.

Sighs, scoffs, snickers, and a whole plethora of reactions filled the audience of Eagles, most of them wondering what gave the human the nerve to think he could handle this ancient spell.

'Is it the word 'Ancient' that makes them praise this spell so much?' Alaric wondered.

"Put your hands out to the nest and repeat after me, Protector…"

Alaric paid attention and pronounced the words of the Old Tongue while holding his hands out.

"By the name of the Constellation of Wind: Patron of the Skies. I cast a barrier unyielding to the Storms, Gentle to the Breeze, Life Nourishing and Forever Tranquil, Storm Shield," the words rolled off Alaric's tongue with the fluency of a firm poet.

There was a moment of silence before the boy's eyes went wide as aether stormed out his reserves in chaotic torrents and into his hands to fuel the demanding constraints of the spell.

The spell was well-worded. A shield that would let in enough wind to nourish life, pay no heed to gentle winds, yet hold off the fiercest of storms. These conditions, however, were each demanding in their own right.

[ Concentrate, Alaric. Steel you resolve…]

Alaric followed his guardian's instructions. This time, there were no distractions. It was just him and the spell that would bring him the handsome reward of Storm Orbs. His resolve was absolute… It was unyielding. He would see this through to the end.

He put his hands forward and pushed against the pressure the spell exerted on him. Dara'k swayed but didn't complain, struggling against the warping forces coming from the boy on his back. The Eagle flapped his wings and cast intricate wind magic to keep them as stable as he could manage.

[ Breathe… ] Alia's guardian's voice soothed the boy, distracting him from the torrents of aether rushing through his system.

The wind was picking up in response to his spell, fighting the change that was being carved into the world, resisting his influence. It felt like his very mind was at war with the laws of the nature, like it was banging against a steel door with an axe.

[ Now, let your Will be known to the world—for it is yours to command. ] Alia's words stuck in the centre of Alaric's mind, steering him forward.

There was a palpable shift in the air as Alaric closed and opened his eyes. The surrounding swarm of Heaven-Crested Eagles screeched in response to the sudden influx of tyrannical aether, flying around the boy but keeping their distance as they watched streaks of light start to engulf the gigantic nest.

The arcs of light were chaotic but brimming with power. They grasped at different sections of the nest, trying to engulf it all in a chaotic frenzy, like a blind, hungry virus. Alaric could tell this wasn't what he was trying to achieve with the spell.

He did know, however, that the light was the very essence of the spell he'd just cast and that it was trying to achieve his goal through whatever means necessary.

Under normal circumstances, this was okay for Alaric. He was fine with a result like this… but this situation was a bit different.

He was casting a Wind Spell… and if there was an element Alaric knew at the back of his hand, it had to be the Wind Element. Not because he was fond of using the element. If anything, he was fond of using fire much more than wind. What made Alaric knowledgeable about the wind, though, was the connection he'd shared with SwiftWind on his journey back to the Five Hills six months ago.

The flying stingray had taught him much more than his ability. He'd taught him the very essence of flight. He knew how to cut the current, how to catch powerful updrafts and even zip through storms as though they didn't affect him.

So much so that Alaric knew where these streaks of light were meant to go to achieve an optimum Storm Shield. The lines froze for a bit before convulsing under the pressure of the boy's will.

They snapped and shifted, arranging themselves in a neat grid-like dome. Moments later, a perfect sphere surrounded the nest, and the wind went still. The world had been remodelled, and because this remodelling followed some kind of order, it was acceptable.

Alaric breathed out with a smile, comfortable with his work. The spell worked… and he knew it. With this much focus, he'd even managed to drop the aether consumption considerably, saving himself the severe backlash waiting for him at the end of Aether Depletion.

The spell was done. It was a success.

A perfect sphere stood before them, pulsing with aether flowing through it, powering it to do its job.

'Take that, ancient spell!'

Gasps and murmurs of awe and surprise could be heard milling through the surrounding Eagles. Several clicks away, far beyond Alaric's range of hearing, his party watched with varied expressions. Scarlett had gone numb watching Alaric perform one feat after another since the day they met. Lucy looked concerned for the boy, seeing as he'd been using aether for some time now. Bottomless as his reserves might have been, he should have been approaching his limit.

LionHeart looked unbothered while Maple and Bumi struggled to understand what was happening. Sariah turned to the large man, "You said nothing about this."

LionHeart raised his hands. "He shocks every time I take another look at him, too. He's never performed a spell like this one, I swear."

Bumi muttered under his breath, "Damned Black Generation."

Byron tilted his head with a complicated expression, "It becomes more and more clear to me why those men want to get their hands on this boy so badly."

Alaric, oblivious to these discussions, was now done admiring his handiwork. He lowered his hands, only to raise them back up, contorting his face in an expression of pain… His aether had started moving fast again. In a few more seconds, it would run out. Alaric gritted his teeth and his breath hitched, 'Spoke too soon!'

He rose to his feet and kicked off Dara'k's back, summoning a power he'd never used before. His skin turned azure in time for him to hover in the air. At the same time, all the aether around him started to pool into him like he'd just become a drain.

"Get away, Dara'k," the boy yelled through gritted teeth, "You wouldn't want me to drain you of all your aether, would you?"

The Eagle, feeling that he was telling the truth, flew back and joined its friends.

[ Something's wrong with this spell. ] Alaric told his guardian.

[ What do you mean? ] Alia asked.

[ Just now. As I tried to let go of it, it was going to deactivate, ] the boy explained.

The guardian thought for a moment before saying, [ That sounds about right. ]

"No, it doesn't. The spell is supposed to stay on indefinitely. Have you forgotten that we are taking the Storm Orbs?" Alaric responded.

[ No, I haven't. Although, from what the High Sentinel said, I figured you were going to carry the burden of supplying that spell with aether until they replaced the Storm Orbs. Wasn't that your plan? ] The Guardian tried.

[ NO, THAT WASN'T THE PLAN. ]

[ Ah! Now it makes sense why you couldn't understand why the Eagles were laughing. What did you think was going to happen? ] the guardian raised her voice in disbelief.

[ I thought they were going to give me a spell that's self-sufficient. ]

[ There is a reason they called it 'ancient', Alaric. It's powerful, consumes a lot of aether, but most of all, it's primitive. They probably use that spell in storms only ] the guardian surmised.

Alaric gritted his teeth. He'd never had this much aether go through him at once. What was he supposed to do? How could anyone assume he would maintain this spell indefinitely? It burned through more aether than any spell he'd ever cast, and even now, he felt himself drawing closer to Aether Depletion.

The only reason he was still standing was the somewhat dense aether of the Barren Mountains that he was using to fuel the spell and slowly replenish his aether reserves. For now, he was okay…

But he couldn't stay like this forever. He needed a way out of this… and yet, none presented itself.

'What did I think I could do with a spell like this one?' he thought to himself. Surely there was a reason behind his confidence… Or perhaps he'd gotten ahead of himself because of his talent and abilities.

High in the air, a deep voice chuckled with mockery, bringing him out of his thoughts, "Are you ready to give up? Are you ready to break your promise like you did one thousand years ago, Soren?"

Alaric's heart skipped a beat… 'Soren?'


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