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The Exalt - Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 676: Renn's Decision
🕑 Added 2024-03-22 03:26:05 +0000 UTCOn the oasis's shores, as the blazing orb's light oppressed his back, Renn knelt and dipped his head down, sinking deep while the cool waters rose past his ears and up his neck. Thirsty, he took several big gulps, unable to believe water could taste so sweet, sweeter than the honey his mother fed him when he was a child. His parched throat trembled in satisfaction. The refreshing touch of water he had not had for so long massaged his face, refilling the dry cracks along his brow. Raising his head, he inhaled deeply and shouted in relief, immersed in the droplets of water trickling from his hair onto his back and chest, tiny beads of pure liberation and delight tickling his nerves.
"The water's great, Gloria. Drink." Renn regarded his sister with a downcast gaze. Five feet away and sitting on a boulder, Gloria darted her eyes elsewhere, focusing on their surroundings as she carried a hopeful gleam before lowering herself in clear disappointment biting her lips. She irritated him. Jabbing his hand in the water, Renn splashed a hefty amount on Gloria, drenching her frazzled hair and worn-out clothes. Before her usual complaints could escape her rowdy mouth, Renn shoved her forward and pushed her into the oasis.
"Renn!" Gloria gurgled and then spat out some water as she screamed his name. She gripped her staff and swung it widely in his direction as if bolstering her confidence while dragging herself closer, the waters thrashing and foaming from her forceful steps.
"It's been around a year now. Give it a rest." Renn poked his sister's cheek. "If Aunt Maia doesn't want to be found, there's not much we can do." He shrugged and dodged a quick swipe from Gloria, her staff hitting the sand and nothing more.
"She can't just save us, then go away!" Gloria stomped on the wet sand, digging a deeper hole under her heels. Tired of her unruly display, Renn sighed heavily, lifted her, ignoring her yelps and complaints, and carried her on his shoulder. She pounded his back, but her fists purposely held back since he knew her full strength well enough from other tantrums. Soon, she fell silent, music to his ears, but sobbed out a whimper, "Why did she ignore us?"
"Why did Mom not tell us about Aunt Maia's past? Why did Dad never speak about the war or why his legs don't work?" Renn added to Gloria's questions. Climbing up the slopes of sand, he answered for her, for them, "Because they have their burdens to deal with. It's bothersome, I know. But our role is to wait until they're ready to talk."
"Bah! You're just unbearable…." Gloria mumbled out the last parts, still audible to his ears.
"Says the one throwing a tantrum!" Renn scolded his sister. "I swear, Mom and I must have spoiled you too much! Name a single Marshal Exalt and a woman over ninety who acts like you do?! No one." He might have been too harsh. Hearing his sister grow quiet, Renn raised a hand and patted her back, her forlorn state unbearable for him to witness. "Be a good girl and wait patiently. Don't cause too much trouble. I'm stressed enough as it is, dammit."
"I'm sorry…." Gloria squirmed off his hold and grabbed his arm, tugging it like she had always done as a child when apologizing or wanting help. She needed both. Renn brushed her wet hair aside and flicked her forehead, inducing another yelp of pain from his adorable little sister. She said in all grievances, "Now what?!"
"Leave it to me," Renn smirked and rustled her hair. Sweat beaded down his face and formed on his hand. Truthfully, he couldn't stop worrying for them, too, but he had to be the confident elder brother and son, no matter the circumstance. Secretly, he swept his gaze over the horizon, past the great dunes, sand flowing endlessly in tides from the strong winds that brushed past. Surely, Aunt Maia was out there, watching them, protecting them. He cracked a smile, though, glad that at least she was still there for him and her.
In a large leap, Renn escaped the basin and frowned, a rich stench of blood flooding his nostrils. Several bodies sprawled over the desert, dyeing the sands red in their blood. A few had been scorched black, crackles of lightning burning any unmarred flesh as the remaining bodily fluids seeped out into sickening fumes. A whiff of the foul smell scrunched his stomach, and Renn gathered himself and peered through the thinning fog of unsettling origins. Three shadows moved back and forth, piling bodies into a mound.
'How did I notice this battle? Unless they were killed so quickly and silently, but is that even possible?' Renn gripped the handle of his sword, signaling Gloria to prepare defensive spells. There was no chance of winning, so they had to escape. But Auren was also gone, probably already in the enemy's hands.
"Young master, young miss. We have found you at last." A man swiped his hand, clearing up the fog. Renn recognized the blond hair and blue eyes, the distinct features all depicted in the images provided by old gramps. The man bowed and reaffirmed his identity, "Marcus, the First, here to serve and protect."
"Kragg, the Fourth, here to tear apart our enemies." A large, burly man with spiky red hair that dragged down to his waist bowed.
"I can't believe we ran into you two!" Auren patted his chest and laughed heartily. "No one can defeat us now!"
As Marcus chided Auren for his overconfidence, Renn locked his attention on the third one, a man with white hair slicked back and gray eyes, wearing strange attire with suspenders over his linen shirt. The man smiled and waltzed over, studying Renn from head to toe, then Gloria. Slowly, Renn unsheathed his sword, his heart racing, pounding like a hammer in his chest. The man's smile grew wider, as if pleased by his defiance, and smacked his shoulder.
"Good man! So you're both little brother and sister's adopted children. Not bad at all. Certainly more handsome than your dad, and your beauty matched your mom's." The man laughed, the Ein from a mere laugh constricting Renn's body. He couldn't believe it, but a simple laugh completely trapped him in place, any resistance gone. The man smoked from a pipe and exhaled a puff of smoke, "I am Adam. In a way, I'm your uncle."
"Huh?" Renn and Gloria exclaimed.
As the day shifted to night instantly, they made camp by the oasis, a precious source of water in this seemingly endless desert. But the night winds blew a chill that crawled on their skins and struck their bones. Huddled near the fire, Renn listened to the self-proclaimed uncle retell a story of his parents' time in the Burning Valley and how they fought against heinous foes and triumphed in uniting an entire land. A yearning welled up in Renn and crept into a smile, a desire to have been there, to fight beside them. He was too young to fight in the war and too weak to influence the battles in Fallen Heaven.
"Mom and Dad have done a lot. I hope they're together here." Gloria leaned back, staring at the starry night, the slight exhale escaping her lips. Surely, she, too, mirrored his urge to fight by their side.
"I'm glad those two idiots got together. All the times, Master Sevon and I talked about how they never seemed to realize their own feelings. I swear they had rocks for heads." Uncle Adam clicked his tongue.
"Can I…fight like them?" Renn asked.
"Why are you asking me? You had decades to ask your father." Adam gulped a mouthful of water from the oasis, rubbing his wet chin.
"He…I never found the chance." Renn wasn't lying. His father seemed to have no interest in teaching them how he fought. Every time Renn saw the wheelchair and his father's weary state, Renn also avoided the topic, hiding his true desires. Aside from strengthening his swordsmanship, Anima, Prinstyct, and dark element spells, he still felt inadequate compared to the deeds of his father, the hero, and the monstrous enemies his family had to face. The image of the maniacal woman who ambushed them, Sirsi, propped up in his thoughts. Even against his mother and Aunt Maia, that woman nearly killed them both. He sighed, "I don't want to be helpless anymore. At the very least, I need to be able to kill anyone in my realm."
"Well, well. You may be his adopted son, but heck, you're pretty much like him." Uncle Adam said, shoulders quivering. "It's a pity. The little girl is like her mother, unable to handle Reis in her current realm. But you–" he pointed at Renn, "-your body is not the best, but it should handle the strain for a limited time. Short, though. Most prodigies can handle long periods of time, but you're short on that talent. I'll give you a minute of Reis, no more than that."
"Then–" Renn perked up.
"Wait!" Marcus interrupted as scales protruded from his arm. "Reis is dangerous; you can't teach that to the young master. As a loyal follower of his father, I can't allow it."
"Ah?" Uncle Adam's voice dropped severely, a threatening air brushing across his skin like a volcano about to erupt. "He's grown up. He can make his own decisions like his father and mother did. Don't put a man down while he's determined."
"You–" Marcus clenched his teeth as Kragg rose, cracking his fists.
"Marcus!" It was his turn to interrupt. Renn nodded and said, "I understand, but I want to be of help. So, teach me!"
"Very well. We have a few years in this place." Uncle Adam cracked his shoulders and lifted Renn up by the collar. "First lesson, fight me."
"What?" Renn lifted his arms and blocked a heavy punch, the impact rushing the air from his lungs despite the guard. Coughing, Renn rolled on the sand, noticing his arms shaking, the bones reeling in pain as bruises painted the skin purple. It was one blow at the level of a Lower Marshal Exalt, his realm, yet he had been reduced to this pitiful state from that one blow. What a farce.
"Fight me every day for the next few years until we reach the eleventh land. Young Renn, I'll turn you into a monster." Uncle Adam smiled like a demon, rushing in for another attack. Renn gritted his teeth and unsheathed his sword, slashing with all his might.
