Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

A thousand years… Had the old man really been alive that long? It felt like an unfathomable amount of time for one as young as Alaric. Were humans even capable of living that long? Had the demons been around for a thousand years… or more?

Alaric had so many questions, yet the longer their silence grew, the more questions spilt into his head. His guardian sent waves of comfort through their bond as she noticed his growing discomfort.

It was one thing to be aware of the void that was his past, and another to stare right at the possibility of gleaning what he'd lost. His fingers coiled around his friend's golden feathers, and he took a deep breath.

The High Sentinel let out a sigh as they drifted closer to the edge of the demiplane. "The past has a tendency to be noise, and I don't know everything that happened, so let's start with you. What are your ambitions, Alaric?"

Alaric chuckled. This old man, childish as he seemed sometimes, was actually rather wise. He held within his mind the power to shatter Alaric's very understanding of how the world worked, and yet he chose to tread lightly.

Maybe it was all noise and there was nothing of consequence in those memories, or maybe there was something in there that would put an end to his struggles. The location of some long-lost artefact or formation that could set the world right or give Alaric a way to do so.

In the end, Alaric didn't know what lay in his past, but he trusted Ungv'ak, so he answered the demihuman's question.

"That's easy," the boy answered, his voice as smug as he could muster, "I am going to bring an end to all demons. It's been my goal since the day my guardian awakened."

There was a slight tremor that went through the golden eagle's muscles before he settled, a heavy tension pressing on Alaric's frame. His smirk fell. He'd spoken lightly, and yet his words had brought forth a reaction he hadn't expected.

"Did I miss something?" the boy asked.

"No…" the old geezer answered, "It's a wonderful ambition, if not a bit lofty."

"Lofty?" Alaric mused, "I think it's possible."

"And yet it's never been done," the old man answered with a chuckle, "On the bright side, if there is anyone who can pull that off, it's you. After all, the demons only got as cocky as they are today because of your death."

Alaric tilted his head as his heart skipped a beat. A being strong enough to send shivers down the spines of demons. Strong enough to keep them in their place. Had Soren been that powerful? He couldn't imagine it.

"How so?"

The tension in the air faded, replaced by a feeling of warmth as the great golden eagle cut through the white clouds below the distant cyclone, "You'd be surprised at how much this world has lost since then. No Holy Barriers, cities bursting with prosperity, endless rolling fields of produce, Aether Beasts walking amongst humans without a care in the world, old grudges put to rest. Powerful guardians reduced to helpers and… dare I say it, therapists."

Alaric chuckled, "That does sound like what they are for sometimes."

"That is what they are for," the golden answered, "To guide humans and avoid great mistakes of the past. It was a time of bliss unlike anything the world's ever seen before. A blissful peace that lasted but ten years."

Alaric could feel the conviction in the golden eagle's words, as well as the great sadness that plagued him, "It took a while for things to settle down, but once they did, I found peace in building this little slice of heaven for my people, awaiting your return, as have all the others."

"Others?" Alaric asked.

"We, of the Stone Gate, are not the only ones who have been awaiting your arrival. Most of the surviving clans of Higher Ones have been waiting. While not all have thrived as well as the demiplane, they have been waiting all the same, crippled by the demon infestation and the need for the Holy Barriers," the great eagle continued.

Alaric listened intently to what his old friend had to say. A thousand years was indeed a long time, and from what he could tell, his death was somewhat behind all this degradation.

"Old formations and devices of a time of ingenuity went cold, vast lands fell to the Demon scourge, entire cities and populations wiped out, clans destroyed, the land… terraformed by aether, dark, wild and light alike. Dungeons emerged to protect ancient artefacts, wild aether zones spawned in the form of titanic storms, killing countless demons and people alike."

The list went on. Scouts had reported some of the carnage, some of it narrated by old friends upon death's door, memories saved inside Memory Crystals, while some he had seen for himself while scouting what were now ruins.

The more Ungv'ak spoke of the events following his death, the colder Alaric's heart grew. He didn't divulge the details as they were bound to create the 'noise' he was talking about, but he did hint at several things Alaric was meant to keep an eye on.

The uninhabitable Western Valeria, a well-known wild Aether zone that spanned the entirety of that section of the continent, was a zone that no slayer was foolish enough to brave unless, of course, they were trying to break through to the Diamond Temper Rank, and those were extremely rare.

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The ravaged cities, like the City of Wraiths and the Steel Sea, old mines, ghostly fields, and the remnants of ancient formations were scattered across the continent as a result of battles that had taken place after Soren's death.

"Where had all the demons been hiding?" Alaric wondered.

"Pocket dimensions, plain sight, underground… You name it, and they were there, bidding their time for the invasion that would leave this continent broken for a thousand years," the eagle responded with a sigh, "I was here when it happened. We'd just connected the Shimmering Creek to the demiplane, much to Rayana's complaints." He chuckled.

"A wave of aether blew through the Empire, carrying with it the coldness of a dormant domain. We all knew you were dead. There was no need for an announcement. It was as though the world itself had turned mournful and silent. The peace we'd fought so hard to protect shattered before the sound of blades and dark aether even reached us.

We mobilised all our members and left the demiplane to confront whoever would dare attack the Guardian Emperor, but we didn't get far. There were so many demons, and we fought for many weeks before we could rest. They killed with no remorse or care for their lives, tirelessly and viciously, unlike anything I had ever seen before, and that was this side of the empire. I heard many more gruelling stories from the rest of the empire.

It was in those battles that my wife was injured. She died three hundred years later, after holding back the dark curse that afflicted her for so long. Holy Magic had to advance as our world was broken and changed into the sorry excuse of an existence you were born into."

Alaric felt his stomach twist as a gnawing realisation surfaced in his mind. A single tear pricked his eye, "J—Jack's…" he couldn't finish it.

"Yes," the old man answered, "Aptly named as the resting place of the Pillar of Will. Jack's Fall was where his last battle flung him. Where he 'fell', and fought no more. I heard that the man was fatally injured in the battle that grounded him there, but I don't know the details. Some say his meridians were shattered, but I find it hard to believe that it could happen to a Pillar at the cusp of the Diamond Temper Rank."

"How about I ask him the next time I see him?" Alaric suggested, and the old man nodded in acceptance.

It was then that he chose to dive into the storm wall they'd been gliding past this whole time. Alaric ducked close to the golden feathers so he wouldn't get blown off, but the wind never touched him as they cut into it and flew high. He'd been expecting them to vanish and appear on the other side of the storm, and yet that didn't happen.

Instead, they were inside the tyrannical storm, flying through winds that should have been powerful enough to grind concrete to dust like it was a gentle evening breeze.

The eagle pumped his wings against the storm current, shooting through the wind and sending off gusts of wind powerful and disruptive enough for Alaric to go pale at the sight. Here in the tyrannical storm, the golden eagle tapped into part of what made him Saint Rank to brush off the power of the storm and bend it to his will.

'The wind from wings blows away lightning bolts!' he internally screamed as he watched tendrils of lightning curve and get blown off by the gusts of wind coming off the High Sentinel's wings.

[ I guess this is part of 'Challenging the Storm'? ] Alia tried.

"Are you calmer now?" the High Sentinel asked.

"Calmer?!" Alaric hissed, "I thought the storm was going to kill me."

A soft chuckle echoed over the howling of the storm as they shot through the callous winds and kept going up, against a power that should have been strong enough to flatten a mountain, yet the High Sentinel cut through it with ease.

That was until they spotted a boulder… No, an island of rock. It was a massive edifice easily the size of the Sisters of Fragrance building, large enough to be something's home, spinning slowly through the wind, carried against its will.

The High Sentinel vaulted over it to reveal structures of even more massive size, some as large as small hills, all spinning inside the storm. It was like a mountain had been ground down to bits and caught in a typhoon.

"What are these doing here?" Alaric mused, his heart skipping a beat.

"Part of the Barren Mountains was broken off by the storm and sent into the sky. These rocks form a part of the Stone Gate, too," the High Sentinel answered.

'The Stone Gate?' Alaric mused, finally catching up to a pattern. Was it some word to denote the entrance to the demiplane? Logical as it sounded, that assumption felt wrong.

What was more important was why they were up here, in a place not fit for a human of his 'soft' nature. Alaric was about to ask when he spotted a streak of white and gold. Up here, trapped among a tempest of floating rocks, was another of the High Sentinel's kind.

Alaric followed the blur and saw it practically get splattered onto the side of a large boulder, the force of the wind having proven too strong. The eagle coughed up blood and several blue shards, which Alaric assumed to be pellets. Not even the might Storm Sac was helping him up here. Either that or he just wasn't strong enough yet.

[ Ah. So that's what Challenging the Storm should look like. ] Alia corrected her initial assumption.

Recognition flashed through Alaric's eyes, both from the guardian's words and the familiar wave of aether that hit him for a brief second in the wind, "Is that?"

"Dara'k," the High Sentinel's voice rumbled, "He's entering the final stages of Challenging the Storm. See up there?"

Alaric looked up. There was nothing but a dark void, but he said nothing and squinted even more. Perhaps that pitch darkness was it.

"Should he make it through to the top of the storm, he'll ascend and become a Higher One," the High Sentinel explained, "A powerful one with a solid foundation."

Alaric looked on in awe at the sight of the first friend he'd ever made in these mountains, forcing himself to fly against the storm. The eagle stood up against the massive storm edifice, his frame horizontal against the wind, and leapt off. He shot off and flapped his wings, pushing stubbornly against the storm with all his might. His wingbeats were steady, and the aether coming off him was powerful and thick, and yet, once the power of his jump faded, he grew stationary, pushing through the wind with enough energy to keep himself from being slammed back into the stone edifice he'd launched himself from, but still stationary like an infant trying to move a mountain.

Dara'k was like that for a whole minute before he began progressing, slow as a snail, forging ahead towards the next stone edifice at least half a mile away. He coughed up more blue shards, but did not relent.

"That looks extremely painful," Alaric whispered.

"It is, especially this early in his training… but it is also the price one has to pay to put an end to a curse. Dar'ak will emerge from this trial as the most formidable Higher One of the younger generation in the demiplane… If he can make it through, that is," the High Sentinel answered, "At that point, I will entrust him to you. As I aided Soren a thousand years ago, Dara'k will aid you in your mission."

Alaric stared at the struggling eagle in the distance, his mind torn. Was he even worthy of leading one of such raw determination?