Shackled Exalted

Aoife

It hurts.

Everything was throbbing. Aching. On the verge of breaking.

Blood spilled from the open wound on her skull. Blood leaked from the fresh lacerations diced into her back. Blood drenched the insides of her mouth when she inadvertently bit on her tongue. It tasted bitter sweet.

Pain pulsed through her body. She felt a rush. The spike of adrenaline. The fluids inside her body fought to keep her conscious and alive. The sensation was novel. Strangely intoxicating.

It hurts.

Aoife wanted to close her eyes and pass out. To pretend this terrible night was just another nightmare. To forget all the ideas and revelations exposed by Kleine. The horrible man had overturned everything that she knew. She wanted to pry all those sickening thoughts out of her head. She didn't want to believe that what he said could be true. It was the only way she could cling onto this faintest string keeping her sanity intact.

But despite all the nonsense that spewed out of Kleine's mouth tonight, there was one thing that she couldn't refute.

"I think you're simply learned that it's okay to be helpless."

Those vicious words resounded like thunder.

Ever since the passing of her mother, Aoife secluded herself to the confines of that mansion. Alone. She sought out no one. She spoke to no one. She retreated into her own thoughts and books, immersed in self-imposed isolation. Time passed, but hers remained still, frozen in monotony, until the day she was suddenly legitimized into the royal family.

Even then, nothing significant had changed. She became a princess, but that was only in name. Like a soulless doll, she did nothing but obey. Never complain. Never refuse. Never lash out with her genuine thoughts. Just nod. Just smile. Just—

"Be a good girl, Aoife."

And look what good that did me, mother.

She cursed her naivety. How foolish was she to believe that the world would leave her alone if she had just kept to herself? Now here she was, paying the price for her ignorance and inaction.

She winced. Blood drenched her jade eyes. Viscid red smeared her vision. And yet, things never looked clearer.

I'm sick of it.

She was tired of being a doll.

No longer would she allow others to trample over her will.

I've had enough!

The thought trembled in her head. Her eyes suddenly shone a brilliant blue.

A foreign sensation engulfed her body. The pain vanished—replaced by a soothing wave. Like a gentle caress, the effervescent swell washed away all the unpleasantness. Aoife felt strong. Her body was light, floating, like she was drifting amidst a distant reverie. A flood of esoteric knowledge entered her mind, sharpening her instincts and imbuing her head with otherworldly secrets.

The moment lasted for just a second, but it felt so much longer. When Aoife opened her eyes, everything had changed. The ambient surroundings, formerly colored in a subtle blue glow, was now shrouded in airy wisps of azure. Specks in vivid shades and hues of blue dotted the air, blobbing up and down with a hypnotic cadence.

Mana.

She didn't need to question it. She just knew.

"An Awakening. And a natural one at that," Kleine declared, in awe. The disbelief on his face twisted into a vicious sneer as he took in the sight of her. "High ambient mana, an intense pressure to survive, and an unhealthy dose of trauma. Conditions to become an Exalted. Those bastards at the Council were actually onto something."

His words flew over her head, but Aoife didn't care about any of that. She pulled herself up from the ground. Her limbs were sturdy, devoid of weakness, strengthened by the new power dwelling within.

She vowed she would not hold herself back anymore. She promised to be true to her desires. And the first thing that she wanted to do was—

Boom!

Kleine let out an impressed whistle as he jumped back.

"Wow! Look at you! Suddenly all feisty!"

The walls of the catacomb stirred as Aoife pulled back her fist. Rock blasted loose by her punch crumbled to the ground. A hand-sized hole was left in the ancient underground structure. She gawked at her hands. No damage, even though she had just smashed her knuckles into stone. No pain. Her speed stunned her as she closed the gap in the blink of an eye. She just narrowly missed. A bit faster and she could have smashed the skull of this wretched man.

Kai hissed, his eyes wide with glee. "How does it feel to become Exalted?! This was what the royal family always wanted from you! But oh, it was just years too late! Can you imagine how things might have been if you had awakened a decade earlier? Maybe your mother would still be alive!"

"I'm going to kill you!"

Aoife dug her heels in, ready to launch herself at Kleine again. She heard a snap. An earthy groan echoed to her left. In her periphery, she noticed something large barreling towards her.

Crunch!

She raised her arm. A chunk of stone blasted into her elbow. Shockwaves shuddered to her shoulders. Her arm felt weak, throbbing with a paralyzing buzz.

Another snap.

More stones arrived. Parts of the catacomb were pried apart and transformed into missiles. Kleine continued his barrage with a smile etched across his face. The attacks were relentless. Each hit felt like she was being trampled by horse. She tried to find a path to retaliate, but the frequency of the projectiles gave her no room to move. Whenever she thought she had an opening, a missile would arrive from an inconvenient direction.

The Clash of Dawn suddenly came to mind. Aoife thought of Emil's battles. She remembered being in awe of his audacity. His boldness. His fearlessness. The actions that he took sometimes defied her understanding. But then the results would always speak for itself.

I have to take a hit.

She dropped her guard and pushed off her feet. A stone grazed the side of her head. Blood sprayed against her cheeks. She ignored it. Another stone blasted into her chest. She gritted her teeth and swallowed the pain, silencing the painful echoes.

She nearly closed the gap. Kleine was right in front of her.

A rock suddenly filled her sight.

"Ngh!"

Her head flung back. Stars clouded her eyes. Pain exploded from the bridge of her nose. Broken. Blood leaked from the orifice—the viscid sensation drenched her upper lip.

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Something suddenly seized her neck. Aoife felt herself being grabbed by an invisible force. Her feet dangled in the air as she was lifted above the ground.

She clawed at the invisible force. But there was nothing tangible holding onto her. Her hands swiped empty air. Her breathing was growing ragged. Her heart screamed. The grip around her throat slowly tightened.

What's going on?!

In the midst of her panic, she noticed subtle tendrils of mana agglomerating beneath her chin. It must have been Kleine's Gift. He had used it several times to control her movements. Whatever mechanism kept her afloat must have also been used to toss the stones.

But what do I do?! How do I stop an immaterial force?!

She suddenly recalled a conversation between Kleine and Karni.

"…Are you sure about this? Can't you just force her to be obedient?"

"Restraining her against her will be tough, even for me."

The exchange happened right before the worst experience of her life. She didn't want to even think about it. The rotten smell of rats. Their incessant squeals. The feeling of their teeth and claws scurrying along the folds of her clothes and her skin.

But why did he put me through that, if he could just restrain me with his Gift?

Him just being a sadistic monster was a possibility, but Aoife doubt it. There must have been a limitation.

She choked. Her throat burned. The pressure continued to build. Air to her brain was getting cut off. Everything was starting to blur.

No!

She can't fall here. Not when she finally gained her resolve. Panic turned into fury. Aoife screamed, fixated on a single thought.

"Let…go!"

Ambient mana swarmed her body. It seeped into her skin, surging through her limbs, soaking her vessel in ethereal energy. The mana controlled by Kleine scattered into discord as it was devoured by the large swell. Aoife felt the grip around her neck disappeared.

Air filled her windpipe once more. Her body relaxed. Her eyes cleared. She glanced down. Her arms—no, the entirety of her body was doused in azure flames. The heat felt gentle, comforting, not at all scalding despite its ravenous appearance. It was like a tender embrace from her mother.

Aoife landed on the floor. The pain from all the injuries and cuts faded. The blood on her face disappeared. Even the turbulent thoughts raging through her mind were silenced into oblivion. All of it were seemingly burned away by the radiant flames.

"Tan lei elohot."

Strange words echoed from her tongue. She uttered them on instinct. She was compelled. It felt right. It was part of the esoteric knowledge bestowed upon her during her Awakening.

Aoife's body began to change.

A gust of air rushed at her flanks.

She turned, finding herself adorned with a pair of white-feathered wings.

The azure flames swirled. She felt something adhere to her skin as the ethereal energy seemed to mend to her body. When the flames left, she was covered in a majestic suit of armor. A long blade rested in her hands. The size and weight felt perfect.

"Well, this is a surprise," Kleine muttered. For the first time since their encounter, he looked visibly baffled. "To think Gifts can even allow you to take the form of the divine. There are truly no limitations, are there?" He shook his head. A scoff of derision escaped his mouth. "How blasphemous."

He snapped his fingers.

A stone fragment barreled towards Aoife from her blind spot. She spun around and swung. The sword was light in her hands like a mere extension of her body. The blade carved through the rock like butter, shattering it into useless crumbs.

Kleine suddenly cracked his neck and stretched out his arms.

"I suppose I should be glad." He sneered. The confusion on his face turned into curiosity. "It's not everyday that you get to fight an angel!"

Emil

The eastern swordsman towered in front of the entrance to the ruined monument. His massive longsword was held with a single hand, brandished from the absurdly long scabbard attached to his belt. A sharp azure glow surrounded the blade.

Goosebumps raced down Emil's arm. The deep gash bored into the tree trunk behind him was disturbing. If he had been just a second late, then he would have been decapitated by the mana slash. While Diana could mend and reattach dismembered limbs, he doubted that ability extended to heads and necks.

Heavy armor clanked as the eastern swordsman adjusted his stance. His longsword was clasped in both hands as he dangled the blade in front of his body. His feet dug into the soil while he leaned slightly on his back leg. The intensity of his eyes, devoid of humanity, radiated the cold glint of a seasoned warrior. His face was impassive and still as if in deep focus, ready to capture any minute details of his opponents.

Emil let out a haggard breath. Cold sweat seeped down his back.

He's stronger than Melody. Much stronger.

His instincts were rarely wrong. But things were different now. He had Van to back him up. And he didn't intend to lose Aoife again.

Emil charged.

His body ignited. Stone armament fortified his limbs. He conjured both Blaze and Bulwark from the beginning as he sprinted at his foe. There was no need to conceal his Gifts any longer. Not when Aoife was so close.

The swordsman slashed. A shrill hum cut through the air as a burst of ethereal energy erupted from his blade. The azure light barreled towards Emil with the intent to kill.

The speed and power of the energy blade was too much for Emil to counter. Instead, he threw his body towards the ground. Mana strengthened his legs as he skidded across the ruined earth. Rock fragments were tossed aside as the energy blade loomed close. Emil flung his head back, feeling the sharp pulsations of the blade's vibrations as it slashed the space above his face.

The risky maneuver brought him directly in front of the swordsman.

"Devour!"

Flames swelled. The ravenous beast lunged at the new prey—its insatiable hunger on full display.

"Fragment!"

Emil seized control of the loose fragments from his earlier maneuver. Both flames and stones alike filled the airspace, threatening to tear his foe asunder.

"Bloom."

The word echoed in Emil's ears. The swordsman's chant sprung mana to life. He swung. His blade traced a crimson arc through the air. A storm of energy accompanied the trajectory of the sword before spontaneously exploding. Waves of rose-colored strands spread, blooming exponentially into the maelstrom of flames and stones. The strands weaved themselves through the tiny gaps of space, attaching themselves onto the embers and projectiles before snuffing them out of their power. Emil watched as his attack was suddenly swallowed up.

He stomped the ground, creating a bastion of stone to shield himself from the imminent burst. He felt threads of shadow tendrils wrap around his body. Van's Gift. His senior was trying to protect him. The storm of energy suddenly burst.

Light engulfed his eyes.

His ears rang.

He felt innumerable cuts slice against his body. Flesh tore. Blood spilled. Luckily, the combined fortifications of his stone armor and Van's shadows were enough to prevent any lethal injuries.

The light soon faded.

Emil strained to open his eyes. His vision was suddenly filled with a deluge of plum blossoms. Slowly, the petals descended from the skies, glistening with a rosy hue under the moon's glow. The sight was mesmerizing. He stared, in awe. For a moment, he forgot he was in the middle of a fight.

Heavy armor clanked in his ears. It snapped him out of his daze. The swordsman lunged—his blade flying at him in a lateral crescent. Emil raised his arms in a cross guard.

"Ngh!"

The weight of the blade crashed into his elbows. The empowered steel cleaved through the protection provided by stone and shadows. Emil dug into his heels, forcefully trying to alter the trajectory of the blade before it could eat into his flesh.

Clang!

The blade was deflected. Momentum carried it off to the side. The swordsman's stance was suddenly open. An opportunity.

Emil stomped forward to counter attack.

His instincts suddenly screamed.

In the corner of his eyes, the deflected blade suddenly came roaring back.

Huh?

His mind blanked. Confusion dotted his brain at the incomprehensible phenomenon. He had properly parried the sword away. His senses made sure of it. The weight of the massive blade should have made it impossible for the swordsman to follow up. Not without Mana Arts or some sort of enhancement Gift. But there was none of that. Emil didn't catch any surge of mana with his eyes. It was a feat of pure strength. It didn't make sense. It defied logic.

Monstrous strength.

In hindsight, maybe he should have considered that possibility. He was dealing with an Exalted who possessed the makeup of a pure-bred warrior. His enemy's physique alone should have made him wary, much less their prowess with the blade. But ingrained habits were difficult to kill. Emil had never encountered someone who could instantaneously flip the trajectory of a moving sword on demand.

I'm going to die.

His legs instinctively pushed him back. But he knew. It was too late.

Clank!

Shadows engulfed his sight. Emil felt his body being dragged down as a metallic ring screeched in the air. He glanced up, finding a colossal shadow tendril in the path of the sword. The edge of the fibril was trembling, on the verge of breaking, barely able to hold the sword in place.

"Miles!"

Van didn't say anything else, but Emil already knew his intentions. The intonation of his voice conveyed everything that he needed to know. Without another word, Emil pulled himself up and sprinted towards the entrance of the monument.

"Umbra!"

Darkness swallowed the vicinity, snuffing out all light, sound, and smell. Emil felt himself in a deep abyssal void, drenched in the absence of senses. He couldn't feel a thing. He wasn't even sure if he was moving. But he trusted in his body and kept a calm mind.

He experienced this dozens of times before. It was Van's secret weapon—his trump card to instantaneously change the momentum of a fight. Umbra shrouded an entire area in darkness, indiscriminately stealing away the senses of everyone within its range for a few seconds. It was a devious move. Robbing someone of their ability to perceive in a life-or-death fight was guaranteed to shake even the most seasoned warrior's composure.

His senses soon returned. Emil found himself inside of the ruins. The dank smell of rot and moss covered the chilly air. He ran, not bothering to look behind him. Van trusted him to complete the mission, and so he'll trust him back to stay alive.

Behind him, the sound of fighting rumbled.