Unbound - Chapter Four Hundred And Eighty Three - 483

Chapter Four Hundred And Eighty Three – 483

The winds above the Foglands were bitterly cold compared to the warmth of the Ghreldan Hills. True, they were flying high among the clouds now, but even within the Stronghold, Zara had felt discomfited by the sudden change in temperature. Traveling so far so quickly was as alien to her as flying through the sky was to the Glitterhogs down below. She could see them over the chitin railing, a herd of the monsters thundering over meadows and ancient, autumnal forest.

A simple life. One that reminded her of afternoons in meadows very like the ones they raced above. Those days were warmer too, at least in her memories—but heavy, and not nearly as simple as she liked to believe. Tsk. You are far too old to weep over lost things.

Zara turned firmly away from the gunwale and ran her Perception over the length of the Manaship. The craft was constructed well enough, if slightly slipshod in areas. The Risen that Michael—Beefhammer, she thought with a sigh—had sent with them had performed admirably. The ability for the boy to transmit his Skills through his Risen creatures was remarkable, and yet another Unbound accomplishment that had surprised the Chanter. What hadn’t worked as well was the Risen’s durability; after producing truly tremendous amounts of conjured chitin boards, the already withered corpse had all but turned to dust. That meant, of course, that Beef was not around to aid in the construction of the Manaships.

All that effort to learn Shipwright, only to have his servant crumble. Being so far away, there was no way to summon another. That had been a shock, but less so than the soon discovered knowledge that not one, but six different Yttin sailors had a well-leveled Shipwright Skill. A great many more knew enough that they were capable of aiding the construction process. And such a curious name for it. Vessel Taming.

The Yttin were known for their mobility in the desert, but it was less known that they built and maintained their own crafts to do so. Designed to capture the wind, the once-diminutive Race had even developed rudimentary Mana engines to supplement their speed. Or so the sailors told her when they had offered their services. They said little else. The Skill was a secret among their people, one that their various shamans across many tribes had worked to hold close.

The Manaship she rode upon, built to the scale of a true galleon class vessel, was only one of five. Each ship was constructed of Beef’s chitin, the craftsmanship of the Yttin, and everyone’s blood and sweat. Not to mention, each bore two Mana engines that the Yttin and mages managed to jury-rig into functionality. Building them in just a few short days was a challenge, let alone ensuring that they were sky-worthy—yet it was done, and Mana surged through the ships’ inscribed channels almost as well as their sails billowed with captured wind.

The Yttin, the Legion, the Frost Giants, and the Henaari filled all five ships to bursting. While many of those that left Ahkestria stayed behind in the Stronghold, there were hundreds now wearing the Burning Eye upon their breasts. They hustled to and fro, many helping with the sailing, while others were caught up in whatever strange training regimen Harn and Darius had devised. The trip from the Stronghold to Haarwatch took a week, and nerves were running high. It was a wise decision to keep them occupied.

Everyone knew that war was just over the horizon.

Two more dawns, and the red-gold Wall will rise before us. And how soon after will the Hierocracy pass through the Verdant Pass? The thought chilled her more than the autumn wind, but she suppressed it. They will arrive, that is all that matters. All we can do is prepare ourselves.

Aside from monitoring the piloting and general well-being of the Manaships, Zara had busied herself with working on the project Felix and Atar had started. A shield based on the principles of the Knights Ghreldan’s Redoubt, centered upon a Domain core and a unique crystalline matrix. It had proven a fascinating challenge considering the lack of information she had, but with enough inferences, prior experience, and Felix’s notes on the sigaldry of the Redoubt, it was surmountable. Barely. The notes Felix had left them were hastily scrawled and not always entirely legible. Atar could usually make them out—he’d grown familiar with the man’s odd shorthand—but he and his other half were entirely too wrapped up in their own special project.

Atar was another one that Zara had to monitor. He had changed since defeating the Highest Flame, and not only in his peculiar new Body—his Spirit was incongruous to his other Aspects. His core was still in repair, but what little she had seen raised more questions than it had answered.

Zara ran a hand along the main mast, letting her Affinity touch on the faint chorus running through the chitin. The song of the Corporeal Realm was wide and varied; as beautiful as it was chaotic. Yet that chaos, when taken on a grand scale, transformed into a majesty so overwhelming that only the gods could hear it in full. Through the decks, Zara could hear the glacial thrum of Mana crystals, slowly expanding in her cabin.

Should I work on the shield further? There was some more sigaldry she could add before the crystal lattice was completely grown, but it would likely not be finished for several days. Or should I find Atar again? Perhaps this time he will deign to reveal what exactly has been happening to him.

A sudden thrill of warmth pulsed through Zara’s Spirit, forcing a shiver through her entire Body at once. Her senses flew, expanding outward in a sharp wave from the Chanter, but almost immediately impacted a blade of harsh melody. Sailors and soldiers winced and stumbled, some even passing out entirely as a thrust of Intent echoed all around them.

Child. Attend me.

The call was two steps from stentorian, and Zara clamped her Willpower and Intent around it’s echoes like a leaden box. Immediately, the pressure vanished, and the people around her looked around in confusion.

“Lady Zara? What was that?” asked a shaken soldier. Olia, she recalled. One of the Fiend’s Shadows. “It felt as if a spear had been driven into my chest…”

“Your newfound Affinity opens you up to many new sensations,” Zara explained, more than a little distracted. “Have you been practicing your exercises?” Olia nodded, and Zara gave her a smile. “The benefits are slow to accumulate, but soon such a thing will not bother you in the slightest. You must only stay the course.”

The Dwarven soldier saluted, fist to chest. “Aye, Lady Zara. Will will.”

Zara left the soldier and a gathering, dizzy crowd, hustling across the deck and down several flights of stairs. The galleon class was not as big as the carrack she’d formed in the Shadowgate, but that had been more of a memory of a ship than a true vessel. Still, she descended three entire flights and squeezed through a hundred strides of narrow corridor before she reached her cabin. The moment she did, Zara secured the door and conjured a series of spiraling wards with nothing but the Chant and a thread of her Mana.

Only then did she unveil the small copper basin that stood atop an elegantly carved wooden stand. She touched the sides of the hammered metal and felt a harsh blaring as her Mana was seized by the contraption. The bowl was immediately filled with the aquamarine glow of her liquid Mana, spinning rapidly in a counterclockwise motion. Zara sang a single, reverberating note. Blue and gold briefly flashed in her vision as the System noticed her song, and the swirling Mana rose out of the copper basin. All at once, it formed into the shape of a skull. It was followed by tendons and muscle and skin forming over the skull, layering over itself until it formed a facsimile of a floating, withered head.

“Mavim. You should not have called. Things have changed—” Zara started, before the withered head let loose a scoff.

“How long should I have held my tongue, girl? After I sensed you departed from the open water, it was all I could manage to convince the others to wait on you. But that was days past, and still there was only silence. We have unrest boiling across the Continent, not the least of it is in the Dwarven strongholds—” The wizened face of her mentor frowned. “What do you mean, things have changed?”

Zara swallowed her annoyance at Mauvim’s incautious blade of Intent, and tried to listen to her mentor with an open heart. It was true, she should have reached out to the Cantus as soon as they had returned to the Stronghold. Yet there were countless tasks that ate into her time, and, were she being honest, she did not wish to report on recent events. “Felix Nevarre has , destroyed a captive Primordial, and defeated a Grandmaster in a duel for Authority.”

“What?“

“He has also claimed the Seat and Seal of Ahkestria, restored an ancient sea to the entire Territory, found and secured both Isla and her Unbound, and,” Zara took a breath before continuing. “And the majority of the soldiers around him have somehow gained access to at least one Harmonic stat.”

Silence reigned for longer than Zara had ever experienced with her ancient mentor. Mauvim’s tiny simulacrum of Mana appeared stunned, wrinkled jowls twitching in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and outrage. “Truly?”

“All of it true. I would hazard a guess that almost all of them heard your call, which nearly deafened them all.”

Mauvim tutted her tiny tongue. “They are not properly trained? What have you been doing since they awakened to the Harmonics?”

Zara repressed a sigh of annoyance. “The standard exercises for all of them. But when I say the majority, I do mean that. At least three hundred have unlocked Affinity and Resilience by my last count.”

“How?”

“Felix’s influence, we believe,” Zara said.

“That is not possible. I know that is not possible. A single man’s presence cannot affect the Grand Harmony in such a way.”

“I cannot offer explanations. Not yet. And perhaps not for a while. We ride now to war.” Zara winced as Mauvim’s small projection swelled, more than doubling in size as Mana was drained from the copper basin.

“WHAT? You are bringing two Unbound into—what war?” she demanded, before realization set in. “The Hierocracy. They have finally dispatched an army, haven’t they.”

“They have. Several thousand strong, and among them at least one capable of shattering the Enclosure array.”

Mauvim’s eyes closed. “Dissonance and Damnation.” Slowly she deflated, returning once more to her original size. “The world in an uproar. All of it is balancing on the edge of a knife, Zara. All of it.” Mauvim breathed forcefully from her nostrils. “Bring them to me. I would speak with them both.”

Zara opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again before she managed an apologetic grin. “Ah. About that.”