Brent Stinebaker
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30 Blessing
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 07:56:50 +0000 UTCThe Ascendants protect.
The Ascendants foresee.
The Ascendants bless.
As citizen of the Republic, you are to know no gods but the Ascendants, to accept no faith but the righteous faith of the truest light, and to smite all those who dare strike at our sanctity, culture, and harmony.
The world is a wilderness. The system demands bloodshed and strife. To face Integrated Earth alone is to call dooms upon yourself. But the Auroral Ascendants bequeath strength to your Path and guidance for the lost. And they do so straining themselves, suffering agony to cross from the divine realm where they stand to the moral dimension where the races of old man deal in folly.
But should you rise to meet your struggles, should you walk your Path with dignity and honor, then mayhap the Ascendants will offer you something more: Their favor. Their Blessing. To elevate you as one of their Earthly representatives. To bestow upon you a fragment of the divine.
-Edict of the Auroral Ascendants, Yellowstone Republic
30
Blessing
“Honored Mothers, Beloved Sisters, Blessed Subjects, lend me your ears,” the Composer began. She plucked melodic notes from a harp today—a grand, gorgeous instrument lined with gems and strings spun from web, glistening like dew kissed by dawn. “For today we mourn and revel. For today, Weave is safeguarded from the enemy and our sanctuary is preserved. But at the cost of life and peace.”
She plucked her first two notes at the same time. The heaviness of grief clashed with the lightness of victory, and twin moods seeped out from her divine music, altering the very atmosphere of her dimension. It was another level of bittersweet that came from her. The kind born of a mother proud of her children while grieving for many lost to bring such glory.
Shiv found himself standing on a platform in the Symposium. He was joined by the Speaker, Adam, Uva, and all those who participated in the tunnel raid. But they weren’t alone in this hallowed place. There were many others as well—Honored Weaveresses and Cherished Sisters who held high positions in Weave. Families of the fallen. The Composer’s innermost stronghold was more crowded than Shiv ever remembered it being, and somehow, the atmosphere fit.
Even Adam, who suffered when enmeshed in large crowds, seemed enchanted by the music.
As the initial assortment came to a close, the Composer sighed. “And although this is a time to celebrate, it is also a time to rage. To rage against the surface for striking at us again. To rage against New Albion for its ill-ways, its ill-culture, its perverse need to infect and control. Rage!” She struck her harp hard and several strings shattered. Shiv felt a divine echo strike out, impacting everyone present with the snap. Yet, despite feeling the immensity of the blow, Shiv felt fortified instead of wounded.
Adam, meanwhile, swallowed. He was wearing a new sky-blue ensemble Uva got for him. “Shiv,” he breathed. “You didn’t tell me she would be so… immense.”
“She’s a goddess,” Shiv whispered.
“Yes, but is there a rule that they must be so… big?”
The Composer briefly eyed the Young Lord, and Shiv heard Adam suck in a harsh breath. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being big! Big is impressive! It is imposing!” Shiv clenched his draw and held back a laugh.
The snapped string from her harp twirled through the air, gliding in a circular path and passing above all those present, standing on the attendance platforms. Then, as the echoing vibrations of rage passed, a softer series of notes followed, and the Composer’s expression turned somber. “And mourn. For many lost their lives. And many were even lost to us without us knowing. Their lives not only taken, but their noble service and names besmirched by the enemy.”
Clamors of anger sounded from the crowds. The air grew taut with anger, and the name of New Albion was invoked like one would a slur.
“But in our anger and sorrow, we must also take in another note. A note of hope. A note of heroism. A note of justice and optimism that defies the relationship norms we had with the surface.”
Suddenly, Shiv felt more, and more eyes shifted to him and Adam. The Young Lord handled it well, rounding his shoulders and adopting a resolved, stoic demeanor. But Shiv never knew attention like this to be positive. Every cell in his body screamed for him to run, to avoid the mob before it massed and buried him under thrown objects and snarled curses. He could see the those around him—though some held suspicion in their gazes, many more seemed grateful; some even star-struck.
But old instincts died hard, and Shiv gripped his left hand with his right to stop it from shaking. It wasn’t helping. The tremor was a bit worse. He needed to move. Maybe if he—
“Calm,” Uva’s voice echoed through his mind. She channeled the very emotion into him, and he felt his shakes start to dissipate. “Calm. The Composer is here to honor you. I am here. No one wishes you harm.”
Shiv replied with a thought of gratitude. “Just not used to it, I guess.”
“Then, today is a new experience.” He caught a slight smile on Uva’s face as he turned to stare at her. Ikki peered over her shoulder, sporting a huge grin. Shiv snorted a quiet laugh.
“I’ve been having a lot of new experiences.”
As the ceremony continued, the Composer gave an accounting of what had happened. She described the plot to bomb Passage, and to Shiv’s relief, viewed Yunni to be as much a victim as any of the fallen. The blackmailed Umbral’s son had been found and returned to her. And he wasn’t alone. A good fifty Umbral children and five unhatched Weaveress eggs were hidden in a warded chamber used by Aviary.
After a series of successful raids by a few Weaveress Shadow Cells, all the kidnapped children were recovered—and an Aviary Jump Mage was taken alive. Supposedly, they were meant to shuttle all the victims out when Passage fell and spatial magic became uninhibited. How New Albion intended to use the children was a question to the Composer, for the Curse of Light still afflicted every child of the Abyss. But the only one capable of answering this managed a near-impossible escape.
Lady Eileen Harkness. The owl. The woman in white. A Pathbearer now Legendary due to a moment of desperate valor, made so by an attempt to survive her own mana bomb. Shiv grinned at the mention of the owl. Despite her cruelty and the threat she posed, she was a very good whetstone for his own progression. And he was getting closer. He couldn’t even wound her at first, but by the end, he made her bleed.
Next time, he would do more than that. It didn’t matter if she was a Legendary Pathbearer now. He was going to break her in battle, he was going to kill her, and then he was going to cook a feast to celebrate her passing from the world.
“I hope I am beside you when the day comes as well,” Uva said, mind twitching with scorn. Unlike him, all she felt against the enemy Psychomancer was a sense of cold hatred. Harkness had been too much for her this time—nearly leaving Uva dead in the struggle. But she intended to turn that around next time. However long it took. She owed it to her Esteemed Sisters and Honored Mothers.
And as the Composer’s notes began to slow, she turned her attention to Shiv and the other heroes of the day. “And finally, I would like to recognize our heroes. Two in particular: Adept Adam. Master Shiv.”
“Godsdamn you, Shiv,” Adam said from the side of his mouth, keeping his expression otherwise controlled. Shiv just smirked. If the Young Lord was being honest, he wasn’t that far from a Master-Tier Skill either, he just needed a bit more time with his Awareness. Just a shame he couldn’t keep dying and improving like Shiv could.
The Composer continued, flicking her humanoid fingers across every string at once. Shiv could feel his soul shake from the sound. “Though you came to us in unusual and… even initially hostile circumstances…” She smiled at Adam. The Young Lord began blinking rapidly in response. “You have proven yourselves gallant beyond words. Gallant beyond song. For it takes truly virtuous souls to ride to the aid of a people not your own and give your own blood and more to ensure their safety. I, and all of Weave, owe you a debt of gratitude.”
A pause followed, and to Shiv’s surprise, it was Adam who bowed first—and he executed the gesture perfectly this time. He did it so promptly and well that all the Umbrals and Weaveresses looked on at him in surprise.
Well, he did go to the capital, Shiv remembered. That probably came with its own mess of rituals and decorum.
Shiv followed Adam’s example, though he did it slower. When they finished, a series of gasps sounded as the Composer returned the gesture to them as well. “You honor me with your service.”
“It is only right to repay a hostess for her hospitality,” Adam said, speaking the words as if he had done so countless times before. “And this is a deed well delivered. Should, the divines protect us, this moment come again, I will enter the fray once more, at whatever the cost.”
And now Adam practically sounded like his father. For a moment, Shiv thought he was looking at Roland Arrow. But then the parts of Adam’s mother seeped through, and Shiv found himself turning away.
The Composer laughed. “You delight me, Adept Adam.” She looked to Shiv, as if expecting him to say something too, but despite how comfortable Shiv felt in private conversation, he was a bit out of his element when surrounded by so many people. So, he defaulted to who he was: blunt, true, and honest.
“The quest might be done, but my mission isn’t,” Shiv declared. “Lady Harkness is alive. But someday she won’t be. And I’ll make sure of that. For the people she killed, for the lives she hurt, and because the way she used her Psychomancy really pisses me off.”
“May more of my people bear your determination, Master Shiv.” But the Composer wasn’t done. Finished regarding the surfacers, she turned to look upon the surviving sisters and Weaveresses who emerged from the tunnels. “And my children. My greatest, most beloved children. How much you have given for this home. How much you honor me.”
Those behind Adam and Shiv saluted their goddess again. Some even wept openly at the honor bestowed upon them. Uva was filled with warmth—and also control. That was something grew more and more apparent as Shiv spent time with her. Most Umbrals were disciplined to some extent—but Uva was driven to master herself, and it took a substantial effort to make her show how she truly felt.
That, or just good cooking.
“As the ceremony concludes and Weave hears this decree, I wish for all of you to keep hatred, grief, joy, and triumph in your heart at once. To hold too strongly to any single note will make the symphony go awry, and to know them all will grant you the fullness of life, and prepare us for the trials ahead. Thus have I, your Composer, played for you this day.”
As she began playing a series of rising notes symbolizing the end of the event, she looked to Shiv and the others as her expression flickered. Shiv caught sight of something he didn’t expect. Uncertainty.
Could a goddess even feel uncertain?
“Honored Guests,” the Composer said, halting before they could leave. “Might you stay a while. The ceremony might be over, but I have debts to pay and gifts to offer.” She looked to her subject and smiled brightly. “Sisters. Mothers. I will see you out personally to grant my favor soon. Await my summons, and look upon yourselves with pride. Your deeds will be exalted among our people, and your rewards will be plenty. But I daresay some among your number have already tasted novel delights in the aftermath…”
Ikki’s grin turned absurd. All the other Umbrals and Weaveresses—especially Uva’s team, regarded her with teasing stares. Uva’s left eye twitched. That was all she gave them. She gave Shiv a bit more. “Help…”
He winced. He sent her what calm he could, mirroring her support earlier. And it seemed to do something for her control, but nothing for her embarrassment.
“They are going to be torturing me with this forever,” Uva groaned.
“Getting prodded is just part of life sometimes,” Shiv said, thinking back to the kitchen. “For what it’s worth, I’m not embarrassed about how much I like you at all.”
“Shiv. If you make me blush right now, I will never forgive you.”
Shiv backed off, despite feeling the desire to play with her further.
The inner Symposium emptied out. As Uva and the others departed, the pathway sealed behind them, leaving Shiv, Adam, and Valor with the Composer herself. Alone, Adam drew a deep breath and started talking before the Composer could. “When I made mention of your size, it was in astonishment and reverence. Also, your song—it was very good, I almost wept several times. Do you know that you look extreme beautiful as well? And the incident at Cradle, you must understand—”
The Composer threw her head back and began to giggle girlishly. Adam, not expecting this, flinched. “Shiv. Shiv! What’s happening?”
Shiv looked at him and shrugged. “She finds you funny, I guess. Good that someone does.”
“Oh, why did I even bother asking you,” the Young Lord spat under his breath.
As the Composer controlled her self, she leaned in closer, her massive face approaching them like a descending mountain. “Oh, Adept Adam. I am very glad that I exercised restraint during your little mental mishap at Cradle. And I appreciate Shiv asking me to hold back and allow him to speak with you first. It would have been a shame to deprive us of your company.”
Adam blinked several times, then looked to Shiv. “Wait, you asked her to…”
“What?” Shiv said. “I didn’t want them to kill you. Even if I did think you were an asshole.”
“Did think?”
“You’re still an asshole, Adam. Don’t get full of yourself just yet. You’re just… mostly an asshole to me. You’re fine with other people. Hells, the Composer here even finds you charming. Imagine that.”
Adam opened and closed his mouth several times, battling between an outraged comeback and genuine surprise. “I hate you… for possibly being the reason I’m still alive, I hate you for being so aggravating to talk to, and I hate you for your bullshit Path.”
“Well. Feel free to try and kill me, Young Lord.” Shiv grinned. “If you succeed, I might even hug you.”
“Ha! Find some other food to feed your abominable—” Adam trialed off and narrowed his eyes at Shiv. “Although… since you can’t stay dead… and you’re like a brick wall. Hmmm.”
“What? You wanna test some arrows?”
“Maybe. And maybe a few other things as well.”
“And so it begins,” Valor hummed. Shiv looked at the dagger, currently hanging off Adam’s belt. “This shall be good.”
“This shall be grand!” The Composer said, clapping her hands together. A shockwave formed from the impact. “Ah!” She cried out in alarm as a wave of force slammed into both Adam and Shiv. Before the former could be flung off his feet, the latter seized him by the arm and applied his Might of Mass while using Momentum Core to drink in some excess energy.
Core feels half full, Shiv thought. Probably need to go discharge at some point. Don’t want to do that anywhere full of people… Shit, it’s a great skill, but it’s really inconvenient for daily life.
“Thank you,” Adam grudgingly said, as he readjusted his new jacket.
“Don’t mention it. I told you in the tunnels: I’ll make sure no one kidnaps you. Still applies now.”
The Young Lord eyed him and huffed. But there wasn’t so much heat in act anymore.
“I… I am very sorry,” the Composer said, holding her hands over her mouth. “I get excited sometimes.”
“Don’t worry, we can take it.” Shiv paused. “Well, I can take it. I’ll just have to take Adam’s portion, too, since his child-sized body isn’t strong enough to resist a strong gust of wind.”
Adam growled. “Shiv! You bastard!”
And then the Composer snickered again. “Were you two always like this? It is quite the relationship.”
Shiv and Adam shared a look. The Young Lord looked away, no longer interested in the conversation.
Shiv, meanwhile, never much had the taste for feeling from discomfort. “My parents murdered and sacrificed his mother and unborn sister in a horrific ritual. That ritual might be the reason why I have my Path. That’s the bedrock of our relationship.”
“I… uh…” It took a lot to make a goddess seem uncomfortable, but right then, Shiv managed.
“You didn’t need to tell her that,” Adam said, an undercurrent of anger in her voice.
“I don’t see the point of hiding and pretending about problems,” Shiv replied. “She’ll probably found out eventually anyway.”
The Young Lord wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Shiv grimaced. Couldn’t be helped. Maybe he should have thought about this a bit more. Considered if Adam wanted this information aired. “Sorry,” Shiv said, using his mind mage. “I’m just used to speaking for myself.”
Adam chose to stew in silence instead of replying.
“I’m sorry if I caused this,” the Composer said, seeming more like an ashamed child than a goddess. It occurred to Shiv that she seemed very young most of the time. “I didn’t mean to bring up such terrible wounds.”
“It happened. We face it. We live.” Shiv shrugged. “Now. What did you want to talk with us about?”
The Composer let her gaze linger on Adam for a moment longer in concern, before speaking. “I wished to bestow upon the two of you my Blessing.”
Suddenly, Adam was no longer sulking. “B-Blessing?” He looked at Shiv with a wonder struck expression. “B-B-Blessing?”
“Does that mean something else on the surface?” the Composer winced.
“No. I think Adam is just having a moment.” Shiv said.
“How are you not having a moment?” Adam asked.
“Because I don’t really know what a Blessing is supposed to do?” Shiv admitted.
Both the goddess and the Young Lord stared at Shiv.
“But… how? You have gods, no?”
“We have an entire pantheon!” the Young Lord almost snarled. “What do you mean you don’t know what a Blessing is supposed to do? Haven’t you attend… attended…”
Now, it was Adam’s turn to wilt under Shiv’s glare. “Attended what. Finish the sentence.”
“The… the sermons at the Auroral Church…” Adam winced.
“I might have. But when a War Priest and his congregation beats you within an inch of your life and leaves you bleeding and whimpering on the steps when you're barely ten, you get the message that you’re not wanted by the gods.”
“You should have reported that,” Adam muttered. “My father—”
“Wouldn’t need to hear it from one of his guards. And they’re more likely to continue the beating than to help me.”
The Young Lord was now borderline ashamed. “This isn’t who we are. When we save Blackedge… there will be changes. My father—”
“Things are already changed,” Shiv said, rolling his eyes. “I have a Path now. Composer: Explain what a Blessing does to me.”
“A Blessing is an infusion of divinity upon a soul,” the Composer began, her fingers nervously fidgeting against her harp. “It allows one to call upon miraculous powers: power that is beyond even the confines of a system.”
“Beyond the confines of a system…” Shiv breathed. “That sounds… potent.”
“Yes. And exhausting.” The Composer sighed. “In your time here, you must have noticed some faults in my culture, in my city. I have yearned to do more. And even succeeded in some regard due to my unique nature. But the system is absolute here. Though we are not fully born within its boundaries, we remain its conduits. Anything we do in these lesser dimensions strains against its might, and to push overmuch against its power often results in dire consequences. Even for the divine.”
“That’s why you can’t just change things?” Shiv asked.
“Partially. The other reason is…” the Composer’s lips quivered slightly. “Do you find me an incompetent goddess? A blind one?”
“What?” Shiv said.
Adam looked at her in surprise.
“I failed. I did not notice the vermin living in my web, feasting on my children—wearing their VERY SKIN!” She shouted suddenly in a burst of anger. Shiv casually stood in front of Adam again, blunting the effects once more.
The Composer flinched again. “Oh, I’m—”
Shiv held up a hand. “It’s fine, but if you have another moment like that, I need to ask that you contain me, because my Momentum Core’s almost full. I don’t want to go through all this trouble shielding Adam only to leaving him a smear on the ground in the end.”
“That… might be merciful right now,” Adam said, wiping away the blood that was pouring out from his ears.
“Ah,” the Composer moaned in apology. She quickly played a few notes—melodies that washed through the Young Lord and bathed him with light. Adam’s expression went from pain to relief to euphoric quickly. “Sorry. Sorry again. I am just… Infuriated. About how they can just… break into my home and do this thing right in front of me! And how I failed my children! I was supposed to see! To know! And it took… took blind chance and the goodness of two literal strangers to come upon a quest and halt the crisis.”
A long sigh escaped from the Composer. “I wish I was… wiser. I wish I was older. I wish I was stronger. I wish many things when my people pray to me. They think I am more mighty than I actually am. But at times…” She clutched her harp tighter to her chest. “At times I am more lost and fearful than they.” She looked upon Shiv. “I praise you not when I say I envy your resolve. I wish I had your strength of heart.”
Shiv nodded. He looked at Adam—and thought back to the last day. He felt a similar way, wanting the Young Lord’s Reflexes Skill Evolution so he could carry Uva across the sky. “I understand. We can be powerful. Far more than someone else. But we can still be the wrong person for what’s needed.” He paused. “You are what they need.”
The Composer paused. “Am I? This entire ceremony it felt like… like I was just playing to the crowd. It was a performance. And they didn’t even question me at all. They just accepted my words… Only my anger and my gratitude and my grief is genuine. And the owl… I should have struck her down.” Shiv opened his mouth to speak, but she continued. “It matters not that she is now a Legend. I am divine. She was in my home. I should have protected it.”
“We all should have done many things, Composer,” Valor said. “Right now, what you need to do is learn. And improve. This moment will return again. The system demands that we all struggle and war. Your worry and torment at present is good. It shows you the way. But do not drown in it. Without you, there would be no Umbrals. Remember this. You have a Path you must walk as well.”
The Composer’s lip curled slightly. She never looked more a child than in that very moment. “Oh, Valor. If had told me that I would be so comforted by your words some four hundred years ago, I would have laughed and tried to flay you with my songs.”
“Ah. But things are different between people when they are not enemies, no? Circumstances change. We grow stronger. Or we prove the fool and find ourselves sealed by our own children. But enough of this for now. Young Master Shiv and Young Adept Adam should be rewarded for service. And I have chosen to take disciples.”
The goddess’s eyes widened. “You have…” She looked at Shiv and nodded. “This one… He definitely has passed your Trial of Death-Descending, but the other…”
“The other will,” Valor said. “In due time. There is much he needs to learn—they both need to learn. But one has the potential. And the other might just have the mind.”
Shiv nodded. “I think he just called you stupid, Adam.”
The Young Lord punched Shiv in the arm using a limb constructed from water magic. It broke apart without budging Shiv. “That just means I have potential.”
“The potential to disappoint.”
The Composer eyed the two surfacers as their bantering resumed. A relief passed over her features. “Yes… I… Here. Witness my gratefulness.”
“Wait. Hold.” Adam said, his expression flickering. “I… I thank you, and am honored but I cannot accept this.”
“You can’t?” Shiv asked.
“Why not?” the Composer asked.
“Because I am a child of the Republic, my goddess,” Adam said, decorum returning to him. “Though I understand now, after staying here for some time that there have been… misunderstandings held by my people. And what we know about the Abyss. I am still sworn to the Ascendants. They are the gods of my people, and my family is favored by Thaen, the Starhawk. To bear the divinity of another god within me is an affront to my gods. I humbly beg to be rewarded another way, if it does not offend.”
“Ah, I see,” the Composer said, her expression turning severe. “I feared there would be a matter such as this…”
“It is not a matter,” Valor scoffed. “Boy. You can bear Blessings from multiple ‘gods’ provided that you have the strength. It will not break or taint your soul otherwise.”
“That is not the issue. The issue is the declaration.” Adam’s posture was unyielding. “I am sworn to the Republic. Faults and all. And so I will not turn or spite our protectors. No matter the consequence.”
“They are not real gods,” Valor practically growled. “I wished to tell you this in better times, but the Starhawk? I knew of him in ages long past, when he was but a man, when the world was still—”
“Valor.” The Composer’s statement was heavy but serene. “It is fine. I understand. And can honor this request. I will not force anything on you. I will not force anything on anyone. That is not the kind of goddess I wish to be.” Shiv looked at the Composer, and read a slight bit of hurt from her features. But she bore it well. “As for another boon… Ah! I have just the thing.”
Suddenly, the Composer dove, reaching into the silken threads that lined the walls of her home. Every strand she touched gave an utterance of noise, and Adam regarded Shiv in the meantime.
“You will accept her Blessing?” Adam asked.
“Don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.”
“It will be seen as heresy…”
Shiv sneered. “Oh. So nothing changes for the Omenborn. Adam. Let me make one more thing clear. I’m doing all this for you and Blackedge. Georges. The people who don’t have it come. Your father. But the Republic and the Ascendants are nothing to me. Just as I was nothing to them. After this is done… I’m my own man for good. I’ll do what I want and go where I wish.”
The Young Lord studied Shiv for a moment longer. And gave a brief nod of acceptance.
“And here!” The Composer said. She bore a large grin as she held something clutched in her massive hands. As she brought it closer to Adam, the Young Lord took a step behind the Deathless, hiding his body behind a Diamond-Shelled shield. “Oh, come now, don’t be scared. You’ll love it! I heard the sisters say you are practically a master with a bow! That they haven’t seen someone shoot so fast, so quick, and so accurately all at once.”
Adam paused behind Shiv and stepped out with his shoulders back and head held high. He took a step closer to the Composer, like a child drawn forth by praise. “Well. I am not even a Master of the bow yet. Not like my father. But the bow is in my blood. And name. We earned the name, Arrow? Did you know that? It became our name due to the deeds of my ancestors.”
“Well, then… a heroic lineage deserves a Heroic weapon.” She opened her hands and Adam gasped. There, like a speck atop the Composer’s immense hands, was a finely made bow. Its body was made from nightglass, and it had an entire ensemble of strings. Each string also shivered with mana. Shiv could feel Psychomany, Biomancy, and Pyromancy fields expanding out. To his astonishment, each of the strings were of Adept as well—nearly ten times the size of his Biomancy’s mana field right now. “Now, each string is infused with an Adept-Tier mana enchantment, so it took some time to assemble this weapon, but I have been told that you are versatile, wise, and have more than few magical skills—eh, Adept Adam, are you crying.”
“No,” Adam said, coughing hard. “I just… My eyelash is in my eye.”
“And a tear is on your cheek,” Shiv muttered.
“You shut up,” Adam said, pointing at Shiv without looking at him. “Your lies and slander are not needed right now.”
The Composer’s grin turned smug. “It is okay. It flatters me to be so good at gift-giving.”
Adam looked up at her, and she nodded, allowing him to walk on her hands. “I will petition the Auroral Council to recognize you as a god of the Republic if I can,” Adam said, hiding a sniffle as a sneeze. “They will know of your boundless generosity and… and understand the kindness of spiders. I’ll make it illegal to step on them. I promise.”
“Oh, that’s very sweet of you. But we’re… not actually entirely spiders…”
“I don’t care. That’s how much this means to me.”
She smiled down at Adam.
When the Young Lord returned, Shiv saw that the bow was magnificently sculpted as well. It bore the shape of a Weaveresses limb, and it had a lens on the side. As Adam looked through it, he sputtered. “Farseeing? This bow has Farseeing?”
“Well, your father is the Dread Horizon, so I thought…”
“I will build a temple in your honor in the Republic. Even if it takes centuries!”
Now the Composer was blushing.
“Now. Master Shiv…” the Composer began.
“Let’s see the Blessing. But… this won’t allow you to misshape my soul or anything, right?”
The Composer cringed. “That is… beyond both my desire and ability. It also sounds horrible. No, this is just a gift. An infusion of my favor and melody upon you. Here. Listen carefully.”
And she began to play, strumming specific notes on her harp as they pulsed through the world. Then, strings began to snap. One after another they soared through the air, snaking like winged serpents, until they circled around Shiv. Adam took a step back, stepping out from the enclosing strands as they coiled around and finally sank inside the Deathless. But even after the Composer stopped playing, Shiv could hear the melody inside himself—tense, frantic notes that drove his focus to new heights.
Blessing Gained: Song of the Vigilant - Allows the Pathbearer to maintain absolute focus while the song is active. The song will expand out from the Pathbearer as a web and form a Resonant Perimeter.
As the song settled inside of Shiv, he called upon it, and it began to play aloud within his being once more. It was like the strings were in his very soul now, bound to him on some fundamental level. He found his attention sharpening with the notes, his mind focusing, pushing aside all sensation, all distraction.
This’ll make shaping spells much easier, Shiv thought. His spells had been broken more than a few times by him getting hit or dying in the middle of combat. This might just resolve that issue. What he found more fascinating was the Resonant Perimeter. It was like a musical web of vibrations mapped over the world. Judging from Adam’s blank expression as he followed Shiv’s gaze, the Deathless was the only one who could see the web. The perimeter seemed to expand as far as the song could travel, and it layered over everything worth noticing. More than that, he felt the movements and positions of various entities in his very soul.
Was this how the Composer perceived the world on some level? No wonder she can see so much. But it didn’t let her sense New Albion’s agents… It’s good, but it can be fooled. And it only extends as far as the song. After a minute of playing, Shiv also felt an extreme exhaustion pulling inside of him.
“You will need to let yourself recover when using a Blessing,” the Composer said. “It grows easier to channel a spark of the divine when you rise through the Tiers across multiple skills. But overchanneling can lead to some… ugly consequences.”
Shiv shrugged. “I’ve died before.”
“But can your soul reform from being shattered?” the Composer asked.
That made him pause. He stopped the song, but the strain still remained. “How long does it take to recover?”
“That also depends on your strength. Be wise and careful, and my song shall reveal you all dangers, visible or hidden—and give you the vigilance to strike them down.”
“Thanks,” Shiv said, grinning despite the strain he felt inside. “I think I’m going to get a lot of use out of this one.”
“More than you think,” Valor finally said. “Composer. Our arrangement.”
“Hm? Oh, yes? The soul fragments. Now, I said before, only have a few—”
“Give me what you have on hand,” the dagger declared. “I need this cage loosened. Otherwise, I will not be able to render proper instruction to my pupils. We will reclaim the pieces that remain in time.”
The goddess merely nodded, and descended again.
“I don’t know about you,” Adam said, still marveling at his new bow, “but I feel like I got a better deal.”
“We’ll find out soon, won’t we?” Shiv said.
Adam paused. “What are you implying?”
“I don’t imply. You wanna see if that bow can put a hole through me.”
The Young Lord’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I do not want to hear any blame if I slay you, Omenborn.”
“I’ll do my best to leave your limbs intact when I get my hands on you, Young Lord.”
“You will not be striking and beating each other like wild animals,” Valor declared, his voice stern. “There will be a way to this thing.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I told you before, I am academy trained, dagger. If there’s anyone who needs instruction—”
“Here they are,” the Composer breathed. As she rose, Shiv felt a surge of something in the air. Something that was almost like the warmth of vitality. But it was changed. It was more. It felt almost like how he did when he was a Revenant. “Two vessels containing pieces of your soul. They took a while to fully stabilize, but you may bind with them now.”
She released something into the air. Both Shiv and Adam cocked their heads.
“Is that…” Adam began.
“A skeletal arm and a skull?” Shiv finished. “No… They’re shaped like it, but I can’t sense anything with my Biomancy.”
“That is because they are made from a substance yet unnamed, taken from a gate connected to a dimension with far higher mana than ours.”
And then, Shiv felt a flow of power rush through the air. It surged, binding the skeletal arm, to the skull, and the dagger. Slowly, all three parts came in alignment, with the limb socketing under the skull to clutch the dagger in its hands. Shiv watched as a rippling spell of pure white flashed along the blade, and magical veins crept up, fusing all three vessels into one.
Immediately, a sphere of mana crashed into Shiv. He could feel a new presence now—one of Adept-Tier Pyromancy. Pyromancy that ignited twin fires within the skull’s sockets and let it hold itself aloft by constantly projection a stream of propulsion from below. “Ah. Finally. I can move and see…” A tone of muted satisfaction came from Valor. He bowed first to the Composer, and she returned the act as a cheerful smile.
Then, Valor regarded both Shiv and Adam. “Ah. Finally. I lay eyes on you.” Shiv watched as the magical flames with the skull cracked to a new intensity. “Shiv… you are… larger than I expected.”
“It’s kind of a newer development,” Shiv said. Might of Mass’s continued progression had made him twice as muscular as he used to be, and well over ten times heavier when he really drew on the skill.
“Hm. Not optimal. Too much strength before technique will create bad habits. And the mass will affect balance. And you. Academy trained Adept. Show me what they taught you.”
Adam looked at Valor. “What do you want me to do?”
“Shoot me, and I will call you my master instead.”
The Young Lord gave Shiv a look and shrugged. “Well. I was intending to try out this new bow on the Omenborn but—”
Valor’s eyes flashed. A burst of blinding brightness made both Shiv and Adam cry out. As the blindness cleared from Shiv’s eyes, he saw Valor clenching the strings of Adam’s new bow, with a dozen elemental arrow nocked at the Young Lord.
Adam blinked and growled with anger. “That—you—”
“Ambushed you? Blinded you with a trick and surprised you? What do you think this is? A duel? A sanctioned match? Who do you think I am? Would you expect mercy for someone who cares nothing for you? From the raven who broke your limb and took you as a slave from your home even with that armor of yours?”
The Young Lord clenched his teeth. The Composer looked on at the scene with a hint of distaste.
Valor slowly let the strings go slack. “No. Your problem is simple. You have lived a life that was too kind to you in practice and discipline. And that armor has made you careless. There are habits I must break in you. And a strength I must build. And we will do this in the dark. As I did when I was but a boy.”
Valor dropped the bow back on Adam and turned to face the Composer. “Exalted Composer. I have one final request. Tell us where the Compact gate is. I suspect it will take some training for them to be ready to cross. We will need to lay eyes on it in the wilderness in the meantime. And they must be honed in a place that is… less protective. Shiv?”
“Yeah, Valor?” Shiv said.
“Are you ready to die?”
Shiv shrugged. “Sure. But I won’t make it easy if you’re going to try to kill me.”
Valor chuckled amiably. “Good. Good. Go get what you need. Let us take a walk. And maybe… maybe bring the Psychomancer with you. She has experience of the wilderness beyond this dimension, but nothing of her enemy’s true nature. This will be good for her as well.”
Comments
SirWins
Giovanni was spot on with that feedback. It was very odd for a goddess to open herself to a bunch of teens. Very very odd. Why would she ever even think of showing a vulnerable side to surface dwelling humans? And the reassurance was even more laughable. Like what? An 18 year old giving reassurance to a centuries old goddess? Just odd. I feel like the composer is overrated. She was hyped before we met her through the exposition. But man is she a disappointment. There is no gravitas to her. In godclads all the powerful formidable being had aura/gravitas to them you could feel it in the writing.
Brent Stinebaker
Hi, thanks for the criticism. I am not bothered by it at all. I'll look through these details as well. One thing to note is the MC glazing. This is something I've been doing a bit more deliberately for this story (maybe a bit sloppily at times) mainly because it adds a bit more of the feel-good kick to things. I'll try to think of a more effective way to present this sometimes, perhaps. The character moments, I'll look over and consider.
Giovanni Compagnoni
Hello there, love your work! Here however some criticism with the hope of highlighting a trend I found in the latest chapters that lower the quality of the story in my eyes. “Do you find me an incompetent goddess? A blind one?”' Now the question is, if I were a multi-centenarian old goodess, that has kept together, protected and inspired millions of people for a long time, that has fought and bested legendary individuals, surely with a well qualified circle of advisers, why would I ever care about the opinion of an 18 year old with a very limited experience of the world out there that I met 3 days ago, on a conundrums regarding self worth and the responsibilties/obligations of the Divine? So, two things, characters acting in opposition to what their background and logic's been shown to be, such as MC being so keen to start a friendship with his bully, or saying that he cares about the city as much as the son of the lord of said city for the wack reason of 3 people didn't spit on me during the 6580+ days I've lived there (now that i've been away for a week or two). I feel some aspects and priorities should be adjusted, motivations and insights tweaked. Or the villain assassin, head of a group of elite assassins monologuing instead of finishing the job, and physically attacking only the tank, or mentally attacking only the person with mental defences and MC with mental help - or not incapacitating the obviously resurrecting person instead of killing him. Or not taking the super important knife you were supposed to secure. Utter incompetence! If it was the only way of making this encounter work, it's probably too early to add it to the story, because it felt very unsatisfying. Or the aforementioned Goddess, that is not asked but _told_ to explain what a blessing is, with no reverence or respect, and doesn't act upon the disrespect/smite down the mortal - not that every god should be the same, but the setting was shown as 'everyone only expresses utmost respect and social anxiety when communicating with the goddess'. The second thing is that I find that making MC important and relevant in every situation is also lazy writing, like repeatedly glazing him for things that should be nothing special from the point of view of the people voicing those comments, such as 'wow MC your mind is really something' said the legendary immortals killer, that has faced and met by definition geniuses and outstanding people for millennia. I hope the criticicm is taken well as I mean nothing less than the success of the story! Best regards!
Dar-Angol
Now we're cookin!!
