Primordial Unleashed: Epic Progression Fantasy

That afternoon, Skippii worked on expanding his ordinatio under Cliae's guidance. He demonstrated the new evocation he had been working on–inspired by the temple's guardians.

"But I can't seem to keep it alive for very long," he said as the amorphous clump of mud lost its light and grew cold.

"Have you tried molding something more complex than a snake or a…" Cliae pointed at the pile and stifled their laughter. "A toad?"

"What does it matter what shape I make if it can't keep a flame?" he said. "I could spend an hour moulding a beautiful horse out of clay, but it would just crumble once I released it."

"Perhaps the form is important," they shrugged.

"Maybe…" Skippii's gaze drifted once more southward, down a path through the long grass which led to Nerithon. Slaves wandered the fields alongside cattle, but neither legion had made camp on the northern side. Anyone approaching on horseback would be easy to spot.

"Distracted?" Cliae said.

"Huh? No, I'm considering things."

Claie's smile vanished as they inspected their tablets. "Have you made any progress with the other areas I suggested?"

"Bassalt Gauntlet is about ready to give a plunge," he said, using the blacksmithing lingo they had adapted for forging new evocations.

"Show me."

With a single breath, Skippii brightened his Magmatic Core. The ground beneath his feet turned to sludge as its superheated core was pulled to the surface, focussed to a single spot. He plunged his fist into the ground and withdrew it encased in clay, quickly hardening it with flames. The result was a gauntlet with ridged knuckles that spanned his forearm, widening in the centre to form a small shield.

He admired the evocation–its simplicity and ease of summoning. "Is it how you imagined?"

"It is," Cliae said. "Could you do that to your torso?"

"Well, I can't move my hand in here. If I was to go past the joint, my arms would be stiff. Cover my torso with it and I wouldn't be able to move."

"Perhaps in sections," they said, inscribing their wax tablet.

"Perhaps," he said. "For now, I'm sure Hespera's tunic, combined with Blazing Armour, will protect me from most harm. You remember what Eirene said?"

"Only one more powerful than her can pierce it. But… we must admit, that's precisely our foe." Claie's eyes drifted over Skippii's shoulder and on the pathway to Nerithon. "Our guest arrives."

Skippii spun around and spotted a cloaked figure riding out beneath its grey walls. Suddenly, a stone fell into his stomach. He swallowed, and shook off the anxiety. He had nothing to fear of her anymore… then why did the feeling remain?

"Why not make it a flashy greeting?" Cliae said with a sly grin. "Flashfire Trap. How large can you make the area?"

"I don't know. I've never tried."

"Well…" Cliae hopped aside, retreating to a safe distance. "Let's experiment."

Kylinissa was still a ways off, but many paths led from Nerithon into the surrounding coastline and highlands. It would be wise to light a bonfire for her to find him… showing off was just a perk. Drawing heat to the earth's surface, Skippii spread the coals wide. The grass wilted as steam rose from the earth, spreading twenty metres in every direction. Then at last, he released its power.

A great flame whooshed around him. The flames licked his skin, stinging with a unique pleasure. Then came a plume of smoke, and the evocation was over. His flames diminished to embers, alighting the grass like a thousand fireflies. A stiff breeze parted the ash, and Kylinissa rode towards him. She dismounted and waved her hand. The air cleared with her simple command.

"Quite a fanfare," she said with eyebrows raised. "You're hard to miss. It's a wonder how you evaded my perception all those days in the legion."

He opened his arms, gesturing at the scope of his evocation. "I'm not hiding anymore."

"Is that what you were doing harassing those poor simple magi of the Coven of Junorxi earlier?"

"I hadn't meant to harass them," he said.

"Oh, but they make it difficult not to." She stopped a few paces before him. Skippii wondered what manner of greeting was proper? A salute? An embrace? They had faced death together upon the battlefield, was it such a reach? In the end he opted for a handshake.

She accepted with a wry smirk and an assessing glance. The simple handshake almost seemed like a game to her. "You have recovered well. That is good."

"Back to full strength," he said, straightening as though on parade. "And yourself, one of the coven now? How does it suit you?"

Kylinissa took a breath of the sea air, and peace shone from her face. "It suits me very well. Of course, my duties have changed very much, but now I possess the strength to execute a more grand design. Something I'd never dreamed of before, but life takes funny turns, doesn't it?"

Kylinissa spoke with a confidence that credited experience, but she could not be many years older than him. Then why in her presence did he feel like her junior?

"I wish mine would find a straight path and stick to it," he said.

"Spoken like a true legionnaire," she said, then dipped her brow and fixed him with a stern gaze. "Let us take a walk in the clear air. There is a more serious matter to address."

She led him from the burned grass out towards the cliff's edge. Skippii looked for Cliae, but they seemed to have left before Kylinissa arrived, likely to attend their library. Perhaps, with another intent to leave them alone. Beyond, the sky bruised and the first stars glittered as far west, the sun retired behind mountains.

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"You spoke to us, upon the temple steps," she said. "You know that right? We communicated through a window of Oylatun grace. Kylin herself was there in communion. That's how we reached you. That's how the coven's magia and yours united."

"I am aware," he said. "I felt it all."

"Our minds were linked. You sensed it as we did?"

"I detected many minds, maybe a dozen, but I was focussed on yours."

The declaration caused Kylinissa to take pause. "And you understand the significance?"

"It means we're not enemies?" he guessed.

"It means, the Gods joined hands with…" she extended a hand for him to finish.

"The Primordials," he answered. "Their ancient foe."

She nodded eagerly. "That was our best guess, but it's hard to believe. It defies all theology."

"Funny turns," he said. "In heaven and on earth."

She looked puzzled. "Yes. But I'm glad of the outcome, at least. The Coven of Kylin holds no more ill will towards you. Though, I must admit, Aetheria is stubborn to declare an alliance. She has drifted in Kylin's essence for many years; it changes one's mind. She is very quick to anger, as you know, and slow to forgive. But it eases us all to know that Oyaltun guides you."

"Something like that," he started. "Something like an alliance of power… could it happen again? Because, what I saw in there… I came face to face with it. A god. I can't fight that alone. And the firestorm we created was like nothing I've evoked ever before. I don't think I could do it alone. It makes all this burned grass look like a candle."

Kylinissa bowed her head in thought. "We would have to see what Kylin thinks of it first. We do not command her power, strictly speaking. We channel it, and her will."

"It should be a straight answer," he said. "Clearly, we have a common foe. My oaths to the legion will soon be the same as yours. The Imperator has declared us an independent, like the covens. Why not unite?"

"It is not my choice," she said.

"But why would the Gods choose any differently?"

"I don't know. I am not one of them."

"But you can speak to them. Entreat with them. Implore them."

She laughed harshly. "High priestess, I might now be, but that only makes me a more favoured servant. As we all are servants to the pantheon in some capacity. Except you."

"Except me and my companions," he stated. "They worship the Gods in their own manner, but I would not let them call themselves slaves."

"Servents," she corrected. "To a much higher power."

"A power so high that it allowed the world to deteriorate." Skippii felt his frustration grow and was powerless to stop it. "Now thousands have died besieging a city that should never have fallen in the first place."

"What do you know of history?" she scowled. "Of these first places?"

"I know complacency when I see it. The pantheon rules the realm? What portion of it do they rule, and why has it diminished? How much is left abroad unblighted by heresy–by the incursor gods. Do you know of them?"

She hesitated. "The Imperator counselled us recently. A league of heresy."

"Far worse than barbarians," he pressed. "Equals in strength to the pantheon. Greater, in fact. That would explain at least why they do not come down from the heavens to oppose them, and would rather send their servants. Send their legions. Sacrifice their peoples, but never risk their own peril."

"A heretic, you may not be," she said. "But blasphemous? You walk a fine line, Skippii."

"The whole world walks a fine line," he said. "I would like some clear answers, and a strategy, and to know who I can rely upon."

"You can rely on your allies, but don't suppose that you are above the decree of the Gods. You're an outsider, perhaps, but not their superior, not by a great margin."

"Oh, I'm tired of this." He turned and paced, shaking his head. "This politicking. This superiority, as though we're not at war. You don't politic on the battlefield."

"And we did not," Kylinissa pressed. "We aided you."

"So aid me again. Train with me. Lend me your strength-"

"I have said, it is not mine to lend."

"I would like to know what plans your Gods have if these incursors are victorious? If the legions fail in freeing Philoxania. If they build their strength abroad and march once more to Auctoria's gates? What then, when all the world is under their domain? Will the pantheon entreat with them? Bargain and join forces?"

Kylinissa scoffed loudly and bawled her fists, turning to face the sea. The wind picked up about her, whirling in her anger, lifting her cloak as an eagle unfurls its mighty wings.

"They share more in common with one another than they do with us. With humanity. If we are their children, then why don't they protect us?"

"Ridiculous," she would not look at him. "Our relation to the Gods is a unique one. It goes beyond parent and child. It is creator and supplicant."

"Admit it, Kylinissa. They are willing to lend a portion of their strength, but they will not descend to these lowly battlefields and wield it for themselves."

"Unlike you, I do not assume to know the minds and strategies of Gods." Her voice was deadly cool, and she turned her sharp eyes on him. "I do my part with what strength is granted me, and ask for nothing more."

Skippii considered his next words carefully, and found that he said all he could on the matter. Clenching his jaw, he turned to the sea. The night was deepening. The silence between them weighed heavier with each crash of waves below.

"I don't mean to offend," Skippii said finally. "I just want to speak plainly."

"That is no excuse for blasphemy. You must know, Skippii, I am bound to Kylin wholly now. When you paint her as a fool or a coward or a traitor…" Her face twisted into a grimace. "You paint me that way. And I do not appreciate that."

Though it pained him to see her so distraught, he did not regret his words, and so kept his mouth shut.

"Well," she started. "This meeting certainly has been illuminating. I hope that a professional alliance between us can go on, despite…" Her eyes fell slowly to the earth at his feet, then drifted seaward. "Until next time," she said without looking, and departed.

Skippii paused, then took a breath. "Arcanus- Priestess. Let me speak with Kylin. If you cannot entreat with her, then I can. I represent the Primordial force of Cor. Is that not a high enough station for her regard?"

"Were you not so insolent just now, I might consider it. But the choice is not mine alone. It would have to be agreed by the whole coven."

"Then consider it," he said, and just when he thought he might win her back, they were interrupted. A horseman rode over a shallow crest and blew a small horn for their attention. He raced over and heeled his horse to a stop.

"High Priestess. Heres. You are both summoned to the Imperator's war counsel, to begin in half an hour."

Forgoing goodbyes, Skippii set off at a run for his dwellings. Sick with frustration at Kylinissa, and an embarrassment he could not place, he poured his emotions into Boiling Blood. The air wooshed as he pelted across the fields, heart racing, lungs heaving. He arrived at their tower in a red sweat, and walked in on his companeight playing cards.

"It went that well, aye?" Cur grinned at the sight of him. "Tenoris told us you had a date, but I didn't take you for one to work so fast."

Skippii growled to himself and fetched a bucket to wash.

"Oof," Cur said. "Maybe not."

"Tenoris, I've been summoned to the Imperator's counsel. Will you come with me?"

The big legionnaire shot up from his seat at the game. "Of course."

"I will fetch Cliae, then we shall go together. Meet me by the southern gate."

"Just Tenoris?" Kaesii asked, cards in hand.

"For now," he said carefully. "It will be busy if I take you all."

"For I am his vassal," Tenoris said proudly.

"I might yet be the trumpet-guy," Kaesii protested. "None of us have tried it yet, but we have bets on who it will be."

Despite his mood, a smile broke Skippii's lips. "Tonight, maybe, if there's time. Don't retire too early."

Drusilla scoffed. "I haven't seen the sunlight in a day. Too much drinking."

They all grinned sheepishly, except Orsin, who sighed.

"I won't be beaten by you younglins. Even if it kills me."

"It might finish you off tonight, old man." Kaesii chuckled low. "Shall we visit the Brenti again?"

"Give it a rest," Orsin said. "But a little wine… sweet wine, would take the edge off."

"Looser fetches it?" Kaesii said, placing his bet.

"Be quick," Skippii said, fetching the cloak which the Imperator had gifted him, and fixing it with his mother's broach across his chest. "We are already late."