Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM

“You seem troubled, husband.”

Jarvan turned from where he sat on the bed he shared with his wife, turning to give Fantina a look.

“Oh? I thought I kept my aura pretty much in check,” he said, adjusting so that he sat beside her instead.

“I am your wife, love. I don’t need an aura to see that there is something bothering you. Something beyond normal,” Fantina replied, in the process of brushing her long blonde hair before braiding it like she did every evening. “But yes, you weren’t as subtle as you thought.”

“Now isn’t that the story of my life,” Jarvan chuckled, giving his wife a quick kiss on the cheek. “But I do remember that you seemed to like me being a little bumbling and obvious even when I thought myself suave and subtle.”

“I also remember your tendency to try and change the topic with anecdotes, love,” Fantina countered, earning herself another laugh.

“Fine, fine! I surrender beneath your relentless skill of inquiry and perception,” he said, before turning more serious. “The surge is incoming.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Yes, but this is my first time when everything around me feels so unstable. I worry that the talks with the Descending Star sect will not bear fruit before the surge, and that this will spell trouble. My gut tells me that it would be bad. But on the other hand, going along with some kind of official sanction or confrontation will probably just make it blow up right away instead.

And then there was something else. You remember Kite?”

“Love, even if I was not a silver-ranker, I would have a hard time forgetting him. He did perform Nastille’s ritual of awakening, no?”

“True, true. With how many essences and stones he has sold me by now, we might just have to name one of these two-” Jarvan gave his wife’s round belly a fond caress, “- after him.”

“Not to spoil your plans, love, but they’re both girls.”

“Really? Fertility told you?”

“She was gracious enough, yes. This might be my last pregnancy, after all. I know that the vats are often necessary during gold rank but… it just won’t be the same,” Fantina grumbled.

“From what I heard from your fellow clergy, it is rather you who are the outlier, insisting on doing it the old-fashioned way for so long,” Jarvan teased.

“I still withhold that this is the best way for me to feel the closest to my goddess. And besides, at silver rank, pregnancy is barely even any bother. And you, husband, keep changing the subject.” Fantina pointed out. “What about young Kite?”

Leaning back against the headboard of the large bed, Jarvan looked up at the ceiling.

“He came back from a contract, carrying prisoners. Five of them, even, which is a lot more than I expected.”

“But…?”

“But he also reported an unsettling encounter. A disciple of Pain hunting down her fellow former sect members, seeking answers. And claiming to have glimpsed the hints of something. Something she claims was behind the whole debacle with the fallen sect from the beginning.”

“And you believe her?”

“No- or… At least not just her words,” Jarvan said with a sigh. “But what Kite told me, it did raise questions. Of why the sect acted the way they did. Their poor cohesion and morale. And that final confrontation rather than retreating and rebuilding. And that we never, not from any one prisoner, got closer to the identity of their actual leader, other than that she was a woman. Who apparently just vanished at the end.”

“And who this disciple of Pain claimed was behind it all?” Fantina asked, eyebrows creased. “But… why?”

“That is the same question I find myself asking, love. Why? Why try and rebuild a sect on such rotten foundations only to spend it like that with nothing to gain, only causing a bit of chaos? It does not make sense, as it should not leave this leader any more powerful or stronger.”

“Maybe she was just mad? Even we are not completely inured to such maladies?” Fantina suggested.

“It might be so,” Jarvan said with a shrug. “But I still find myself unable to let go of the thought. Even though there is little more I can do at the moment but continue to investigate. Discreetly.”

“But you will pursue it?”

“Oh, I will. At least for my own piece of mind. Can’t leave our little ones to grow up with too much lurking beneath the metaphorical bed, now can I?” he asked her with a smile.

“Then-” Fantina began, shifting over to straddle her husband where he sat. “-the least I can do is at least to give my husband a pleasant distraction, so that he can leave such thoughts for tomorrow.”

“Oh, love, you always know how to cheer me up.”

“Young master, there is a visitor here to see you.”

Resplendent Evening Mist, former disciple of the Descending Star sect, looked up from the scroll he was reading, scowling at the servant at the door to his study.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Send them in,” the young elven man urged, his words accompanied by a wave of aura which had the servant leave very swiftly to carry out his wishes.

Not long after, Mist felt an aura flare at the door, the guest announcing his presence before entering.

“Disciple Soar!” Mist exclaimed, rising to his feet. The former inner disciple looked about the same as when Mist had last seen him, albeit that the sect insignia remained a clear sign of his demotion after the embarrassment at the base camp after the end of the war where they had tried, and failed, to ambush that heaven-cursed outcast to get their just revenge. “At least he was not unjustly expelled,” Mist thought, stifling the ever-familiar searing anger within him at the thought of his own fate.

“Young master Resplendent,” the disciple greeted, albeit that his bow was a bit more shallow than Mist would have liked. “You seem… well.”

Mist did not miss the slight hesitation, and half snarled in frustration. “You need not force your pity on me, disciple. Just Mist will do. And just look at what that outcast trash and traitorous grand elder has reduced me to!” He gestured dramatically at himself. “A core-using administrator for heaven’s sake.”

“Yes, surely you can only suffer,” disciple Soar noted a bit dryly, eyeing the rich interior of Mist’s study.

“But don’t you see, disciple?” Mist asked him, a bit of rage seeping into his voice. “That bastard- that heaven-cursed trash broke my path. The one that was meant to reach the heavens, now cast down because of his defiance and failure to know his place and accept his lot. It’s not right!” Mist’s final outburst was accompanied by him smashing his fist down into the top of his desk, the wood cracking audibly. While he had only reached bronze-rank with the help of monster cores, the raw strength it gave was still the same.

“That is actually why I have come today, Mist,” disciple Soar said, the words halting the young elven man from further destroying the furnishings. “Because I heard that he is back.”

“He- he is?” Mist asked, expression blank.

“Yes. He was seen entering the city over a week ago now. One of our disciples, Shrike, encountered him without knowing his identity. And there was an altercation where the fifth son of the city lord came to his aid.”

“Well, there you have it,” Mist said sourly, sitting back in his chair. “Even if he is back, so what? He is friends with the son of the city lord, student to two of the local silver-rankers and even that bitch Meridian seems to have his back. At least enough to forsake one of her own sect’s students to please the masters of that trash.”

“Yes, I have had the dubious honor of briefly meeting his mentor, the forest walker. The man just walks about like he owns the place, even though he is just some mediocrity who took almost two decades to reach silver rank,” disciple Soar agreed. “But even if Meridian is willing to look the other way, I came to tell you that there are many of us - true followers of the sect and its teachings - who still refuse to forget. And we are biding our time to get vengeance. For you and me both.”

“You- you are? For me?” Mist asked, stunned.

“Of course. Because there are those of us who do not forget someone who loyally served the true path of the sect. Who stood tall and demanded justice for slights to the honor of the grand institution that is the Descending Star sect.”

Mist looked a bit taken aback at the disciple’s words. Almost a bit moved. “Disciple… I-”

“If you want to reclaim your path, Mist, then I will call for you when it is time. During the surge, when all of the trash’s crutches he calls mentors are busy with their own assignments and contracts, we will find the opportunity. We will show him that the honor of the sect and its members will not tolerate him walking these lands anymore. Kite Flown in on Winds of Fortune will pay for what he did to me. To us.”

As disciple Soar of the Descending Star sect left the Resplendent family compound in Gilded, he left in his wake a young man who was attacking the training dummies of an inner courtyard with renewed vigor and purpose. Mist swore that, cores or not, he would be ready to teach that outcast brat that Resplendent Evening Mist still remembered the injustice inflicted upon him.

“Uncle! Welcome home!”

Brave Walker of Paths stopped at the door to his tiny apartment, taking in the sight of his wayward little Kite now standing before him once again. The young man had grown in power, that was for sure, but just a bit more in terms of aura. There was a slight rigidity to it now that had not been there before, like a shield that was slightly battered but still somehow held up even stronger than ever before.

“Someone so young should not have an aura like that,” Walker thought, unable to help a wide grin spreading across his stubbly face. “But this is a world where our young ones need to grow up fast.”

Speaking aloud, he said: “Kite! And little Glint! How long have you been back?”

“About a week and a half,” Kite said, already having gone off to the small kitchen area of the apartment to brew tea. “Your assignment must have been a substantial one, seeing that you were gone for so long.”

“You forget that your uncle is an old man, little Kite,” Walker chuckled, sitting down at their small table. “And even a silver-ranker needs to take his time and take in the scenery every once in a while too.”

“In other words, you found more silver-ranked monsters than you expected?” Kite asked a bit teasingly.

“Well, at this rate you are going to catch up to your poor uncle sooner rather than later. Will you really deny your poor uncle his last chances to feel like he has something to teach his little chick?”

“Oh, I would not worry in that regard, uncle,” Kite said, pouring tea for the both before putting the steaming kettle on the table between them. “Also, what do you think of the blend? I picked it out while in Bastion.”

The two quickly fell into the rather lengthy process of telling stories of what had happened since their farewell at Gilded’s city gates over half a year ago. Walker seemed to mostly have been busy with contracts, traveling far and wide over the Autumn lands and even a bit beyond to help prepare the many villages for the upcoming surge. But Kite was also happy to hear that he had kept in touch with mistress Dew as well, the icy warrior still working to whip Walker’s fighting into something ‘worthy of a proper silver-ranker’.

In turn, Walker listened attentively to Kite’s retelling of his time in Bastion, the young man sparing no details even if he knew that some of the events would deeply trouble his uncle.

“Oh, little Kite. One would almost be inclined to call you a troublemaker,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe you used up all of your good fortunes before leaving Gilded? Fighting a silver-ranker by yourself? Even for just a few minutes, it is quite absurd.”

“This young one humbly apologizes,” Kite said with a mock bow. “Next time, I will strive to make it an hour at least.”

“Such a cheeky young man,” Walker lamented. “If your auntie Dove heard such talk from you, she would probably put you on indefinite house arrest. And before you ask, your aunties are doing well. I would not be surprised if at least one of them reached silver during the surge too, the way they have started to push themselves again. Dove, in particular, seems extra motivated.”

“Oh I can imagine. She was alway the fiery one, both in magic and in spirit,” Kite said, his smile eventually fading as he brought up another subject. “But uncle, what do you make of the disciple’s words? I will admit that they still trouble me quite a lot.”

“The young woman with the chains?” Walker asked, looking thoughtful. “You said that the director seemed to take your report rather seriously?”

“He did. I am not entirely sure, but he looked troubled.”

“Then, young man, I think that the wiser path would be to let the director and his ilk look into it. You may be a bronze-ranker now, but to the wider world, you are just a fledgling; one easily crushed underfoot should you chirp too loudly,” Walker said, looking quite serious as he spoke.

At his words, Kite felt silent for a while before looking up at his uncle. “Uncle, I- I’m not sure if I can just leave it at that. Not anymore. While I may be just a bronze-ranker to the wider world, that is not where I am. I am here, where a bronze-ranker can matter. Sometimes make all the difference. And while I have not grown so prideful that I will believe myself able to just start changing things, I at least feel like I start to get close to that realm of possibility. To see if my path is strong enough to start enacting its will and intent on the world around me.”

Walker sat in silence, a bit surprised at his young one’s sudden stoic defiance. Of him looking so driven.

“Or rather, resolute might be the most apt description,” Walker thought, and couldn’t help but smile, even if it was a bit strained. “Well, little one, it seems that you are trying to grow in more ways than one. Part of me is terrified while the other wants to applaud you. I will admit that I do not know what the Pain-cultists words meant, and that it is honestly beyond the scope of the questions that your old uncle asks himself. Beyond my ambitions, really. Please, Kite, be careful if you try to glimpse the games of the mighty. For if her words hold even a kernel of truth, just that glimpse could be dangerous.”

Deflating a bit, Kite leaned back in his chair. “I… Thank you, uncle. I will. Even though I am not sure in what way yet, it still feels like there are things I would like to be different. But you are right in that I need to get even stronger if I want to have any chance of succeeding.” After speaking, Kite took a thoughtful sip of tea, continuing as he thought of something else he wanted to discuss with his uncle. “But speaking of changes…”

“Oh?” Walker asked, sensing a ripple of excitement in Kite’s aura at the change of topic.

“Do you remember my thoughts of using at least some of the power made manifest by Sage to see if I could change things around me? Small things? Like-”

“Like sowing some seeds of karma and potential, hoping that they would grow to be beneficial both to you and the region?” Walker finished. “I may be old, Kite, but your uncle does tend to remember such well-intended declarations. And it seems like you have started out to realize that ambition, no? With both Brook and that Sun-fellow.”

Kite smiled as he couldn’t help but feel a little bit validated by his uncle’s acknowledgement. “Yes. And I am happy that I did. For both of them. But the idea I would like to broach with you is a bit larger in scale.”

“Oho? Then this should be interesting,” Walker said, leaning forward to listen.

“Uncle, when I have traveled around the villages of the Autumn lands, do you know what I almost always hear?”

“The grumbling that adventurers seldom come around and that it was about time that you finally showed up?”

“Well, yes,” Kite admitted. “But they also speak of a certain Brave Walker of Paths. Of how your constant travels across the region during these past years have made sure that they survived, or even thrived. From what Adelaide helped me glean from the adventure society’s records, you have taken on the vast and absolute majority of any and all courier contracts here during the last two decades. Contracts that are vitally important to the villages of the area, but are often shunned by more martially inclined adventurers.”

“Well, little Kite, your uncle has worked hard, after all,” Walker replied, puffing out his chest in pride.

“And it shows,” Kite agreed. “But from what Will has told me, the region does continue to grow. And while you remain the ever-benevolent pillar to help the region prosper, what will happen when it outgrows even your silver-ranked prowess? Or you find that pressing issues forces you to leave? If you want to continue to grow, but find the region lacking? Or, gods forbid, something happens to you?”

Walker nodded along with his words. “I see what you are getting at, little Kite, as it has troubled me as well. But you said it yourself; most adventurers want a different kind of life, and if they can grow strong enough, they will leave. Also, most adventurers are already people of means, as not everyone will just receive an inheritance of essences when they come of age,” Walker finished with a pointed, playful wink.

“Indeed, uncle,” Kite agreed, chuckling. “But what if a certain little chick wanted to see if we could change that? Or at least, plant a seed with that potential?” To punctuate his words, Kite retrieved a tree essence from a spatial bag, plonking down the cube on the table. Unsurprisingly, a tree in full verdant splendor seemed to grow within.

“You know these lands better than anyone, uncle, and it should not surprise you that when Sage manifests an essence around here, it is often one of nature. With what I currently have, or should be able to trade for, I should be able to sponsor three iron-rankers with essences and some awakening stones to get them started. And I mean for these people to walk a path similar to yours, at least initially.”

“An interesting thought, little Kite,” Walker mused. “But what is to stop these lucky individuals from just taking their good fortunes elsewhere? You can rarely, if ever, force a path upon a person.”

“Well, I have a certain adventure society director who owes me more than one favor,” Kite said, eyes twinkling. “And he readily agreed to assist me with this venture. Because, uncle, I do not only wish to shove essences into strangers and leave it at that. I would like to form a guild. Gilded’s first guild, in fact. And I would like to ask you to lead it.”

At Kite’s mental assent, a vortex of colorful lights appeared, swiftly forming what turned out to be a shield. Its outward surface looked to be made of the same kind of stone which covered cliff spinners, unsurprising as Kite and his team had just exterminated not one pack of them, but five in quick succession. This made it rather unsurprising that his looting power manifested said shield, having easily been filled to capacity during the carnage. The shield even had a series of small spider legs which allowed it to clamp onto the arm of its wielder, or even scuttle around on its own if directed.

“A bit amusing, but it still goes into the ‘Peony-pile’,” Kite mused, depositing the item into a dimensional bag. Turning to the rest of the team resting up nearby, Kite walked over to sit down and join them.

“Anything interesting?” Whisper asked as Kite sat down. The older man had taken a great interest in both Kite’s looting power and Sage’s ability to cause manifestations.

“A shield, this time, but not one for my path,” Kite said, producing the item and handing it over for Whisper to inspect. “But Fortune did smile upon me a bit more, as Sage helped produce both a web essence and an awakening stone of the spider.”

“Oh, splendid. Thank you once again for letting me record your powers for the paper I am writing,” Whisper said, happy as could be. Having spent more time together, Kite had learned that the older man was also a member of the local magic society, studying local magical manifestation patterns in addition to his work for the adventure society.

Contrary to Whisper, Will did not look as pleased with the day’s events. “While I am happy for you, Kite, I still can’t help feeling a bit frustrated that this has been the third lead which was either monsters or just nothing at all.”

“It was to be expected though, and we did the surrounding villages a favor too,” Kite countered, gesturing to the little cluster of cliffs surrounding them. Most were still covered with the crystalline webs of the cliff spinners, as the different groups of arachnids had started taking over the area. “But they had such numbers… How bad will the precursor signs get before the surge is actually upon us?” His question was more directed towards Whisper, the only one present who had been an essence-user during previous surges.

“I must admit that this feels very similar to what I have experienced just before previous surges,” Whisper noted as he too looked around. “While the magic society does its best to predict the surge, it is still only a vague guideline at best. We better prepare that it could start any week now, rather than the months of the earlier estimates.”

“Which will make our own task all the harder,” Kite noted. “While our contract is important, I would still be surprised if it made us exempt from surge-protocols.”

“Then we best press on!” Will exclaimed, rising. “We have two more locations to investigate within a day’s travel, after all.”

Nodding along, Kite directed the group to mount up. Even without Grim and his portals, they could still make good time as one of Whisper’s powers from his paper essence allowed him to create up to five lizard-like beings seemingly made from folded paper, making decent mounts as long as they were not forced into any combat scenario. This allowed both Will and Serene, lacking their own means of transportation, to not hold the group back in regards to travel speed.

Over the following day, the group found yet another area where the suspected clues only turned out to be monsters, this time something so simple as iron-ranked rummager hounds who had manifested into packs large enough to brave sneaking into one particular village and stealing everything not nailed down. While the villagers had been supremely grateful for the group directing them to the large pile of missing things where the hounds had made their lair, this had done little to improve Will’s mood. But the grouchy elf scion looked to receive a windfall the following day, when Whisper returned from a scouting trip.

“The leads in this area seem to be on the mark,” the older man said as he appeared at the edge of their camp, ripples of flowing ink dissipating around him as his shroud was broken. “While quite well hidden, we seem to have a hideaway from Undeath’s church here. At least my ritual indicated a significant concentration of death affinity mana.”

“Finally!” Will exclaimed, not needing to stay silent due to Serene’s shroud of silence which she had the habit of always keeping around them as they traveled, allowing sound to enter but not exit.

“Any ideas of what to expect?” Kite asked Whisper, who shook his head.

“I did not dare go deeper by myself. While my shroud is decent, it does not make me enough of a specialist to perform solo-infiltrations.”

“Then we shall enter together, this time, staying shrouded for as long as possible before engaging,” Kite said, a bit of self-recrimination in his voice.

“It is better to make a decision and act in unison than stand paralyzed before the unknown,” Whisper pointed out. “When those monsters started going more active, it was an understandable choice. How could you know that the beast masters had been engaged by a third party?”

The comment related to Kite still being disappointed with himself for immediately wading into battle when the beast masters had called their packs back in the forests south of Gilded several days ago. While Whisper’s words did console his conscience somewhat, Kite still couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if the Pain cultist had been forced to tangle with even more beasts. If she would have been able to escape at all-

“Rumination does little good while the present calls,” he inwardly chided himself, returning his focus to the task at hand. “Then please shroud us and lead the way, Whisper. Me and Will at the front. Glint, please guard our backs and delay any ambushers. If Undeath’s clergy is indeed hiding here, then we shall hopefully be able to bring along more prisoners as we return to Gilded.”

Unlike the stone-shaped tunnels of the last hideout of Undeath’s followers Kite had visited, this one was a series of natural caverns hidden behind a shrouding formation. Kite felt quite pleased that he had been able to both identify and disable the alarm formations accompanying those hiding the entrance, even though he knew that someone like Braid could accomplish the feat by sneezing.

Creeping into the wet caverns, a trickle of water almost constantly running toward the entrance, Kite once more had the feeling of reliving the past as the cloying, chilling sense of death was all around them. Combined with the damp, stale air of the cavern, it took him back to Verdant steps and his first outing along with Serene. And rounding a corner, the sense of deja vu intensified manifold.

“It would seem like the scouts of the society missed an effigy in their sweeps after the war,” Kite murmured, peeking around the corner and into a larger cave. It was indeed the calcified, deathly effigy from his past, but over six additional months of growth had turned it into something else entirely. What had earlier looked like a gray-white dread tree in the process of growing now dominated the whole cavern, a central calcified pillar over two meters in diameter, with tendrils growing out along both the floor and ceiling. Every piece of it seemed to consist of the bones of previously living beings, making this the largest concentration of corpses Kite had seen so far in his career.

But unlike the last two times Kite had faced such an effigy, the cavern around was also bustling with activity. The living dead, mostly zombies of different varieties but also a surprising number of necrotic piles of undulating flesh lined one of the walls. While they were only iron rank, a quick count showed that there were over three dozen of the undead minions. On the other side of the cavern, a small camp had been erected, complete with two tents and a small cooking area. Having so far remained unnoticed, the team could take their time to observe the trio of bronze-ranked essence users going about their business, one sitting down in what looked like prayer while the other two were busy with cleaning a skeleton through a simple magical ritual. All of the three had Undeath’s symbol on prominent display, leaving no doubt as to their identity.

Had there only been those present, Kite would have suggested an immediate assault. But from experience, he knew that something definitely awaited within the effigy as well. Retreating a bit back towards the cave entrance, the group stopped to discuss their options.

“While I will always entertain the option of a tactical retreat, it would not sit well with me to leave this behind. It feels like they are growing something here,” Kite said, voicing his feelings.

“I agree,” Serene chimed in. “While I can sense several auras from within the effigy, there seems to be something more there. Something not yet finished.”

“But there are quite a lot of them,” Whisper noted. “And the priests of Undeath are almost always prone to strengthen their lord’s minions.”

“Then we strike them down. Simple and direct. Darkness cannot stand against my Heavenly shaft,” Will proclaimed. “Besides, we have dealt with these unliving things before.”

“While true, we must still respect their power. And have a plan.” Kite’s voice was grim, as the encounter also brought back memories from the war; the frantic battle-turned-ambush and the gut-wrenching fear for his uncle’s life in the days that followed. “And speaking of plans, I do have a suggestion.”

“I’m sorry, Dragonfly. They are still out on a contract. Left a few days ago,” Adelaide said, putting a consoling hand on the young woman’s shoulder when seeing her dejected look.

“I understand,” Dragonfly sighed, having expected the answer. Returning to Gilded had felt great. Beyond great even, seeing the familiar streets and returning to her own little cabin next to the house owned by master Force. But her enthusiasm had been slightly dampened by each of her friend’s usual hangouts being empty, Adelaide finally confirming it.

“Thank you anyway, Adelaide. It still feels great to be back,” Dragonfly said, giving the functionary a hug before leaving for the exit.

“There are always contracts here if you need a way to pass the time!” The functionary called after her, causing a laugh to bubble up from within Dragonfly as she only waved over her shoulder in response and exited out into the fresh summer air.

“Hopefully they are not in too much trouble,” she mumbled, before shaking her head. “Who am I kidding? Of course they are.” Looking out over Gilded from the vantage of the seventh peak, Dragonfly could all but envision her friends; Kite’s solid stability as he dissolved the magic and strength of their foes. Will, myriad spears already striking out towards their foes. And Serene, so calm and placid that you barely noticed here, yet always present through wind, renewal and sonic death.

“You all better not be doing overly exciting things without me!” Dragonfly over Sun’s Reflection called out into the empty air of the early summer evening.