Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 162: Commitment

The uproar of the arena crowd made continuing the quadriad for the day an unlikely prospect. A hundred voices all yelled questions or stood to run off and find somebody who may have an answer. An ageing couple two rows above where Leif and the others were sitting were spewing panic into the air, their flaring fear and confusion a constant tapping on Leif’s awareness.

Things got worse when the announcer, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the raucous crowd, announced that the bout had ended. Then the barrier flickered off, and dozens of people leapt down into the sand. Zane drew his sword, making several of the intruders flinch back, but the second Blade simply swung his sword through the air in a lazy pattern, making the air ripple before him. Then he crouched down, grabbed the still crumpled Crest by the collar of his oversized uniform, and vanished with a wave, taking the other Blade with him.

“Do you think Crest meant to do that?” Leif sent telepathically to his two companions. Marcus shrugged, and Sieg frowned. Leif stood, then led the two humans through the chaotic stadium. His aura gently pulsed around him, projecting his intent to leave in such a way that most people automatically stepped aside without realising why. They passed the panicking couple, both were mouthing what may have been prayers into identical iron pendants shaped to resemble a mountain bound in chains.

A chant started up on the far side of the arena, though the voices making it up were dissonant with one another. Black uniformed guards swarmed down to disperse a rapidly growing brawl that had started up between those who had jumped down into the sands.

Marcus took over guiding them once they had exited the arena, the man’s [Seeker] class allowing him to divine the best way to proceed. With Marcus in the lead, they avoided congested areas and ducked through side alleys between the ancient structures of Pellus. Their path brought them past the library, but they continued onwards to the portal hub, managing to beat the crowd by a handful of minutes.

They stepped through the portal to Lutum just as a nearby guard was receiving instructions to prevent access to the hub via a communication construct that, at a glance, looked strikingly similar to the object the fourth Blade had used in his duel back in the arena. Leif suspected both crystalline devices must have used similar underlying principles in their construction, or maybe the use of carved gemstones, or mana shards, was necessary for whatever reason.

Another guard on the Lutum side of the portal was receiving the same message, though it was a few seconds delayed. The woman shot them an assessing glare, but let them pass without issue.

“So.” Marcus said with forced cheer once they were outside. “How are you guys spending the ‘free’ free point we just earned?”

“[Might].” Sieg said without hesitation. “I put too many into [Intelligence] this past year, and now my strength is lacking.”

“My attributes are a little too out of balance at the moment. I think I’m going to bring everything up to around a hundred before I start investing into [Charisma] again.” Leif commented.

Marcus and Sieg turned to stare at him.

“What?” They both asked.

“I barely have a hundred points in my highest attribute. You’re cheating.” Marcus whined.

===

Hera’s eyes flashed as she walked down the corridor, stone arches lined the ceiling every ten paces, and orange crystals radiated a warm light that would ordinarily calm her, but all she could feel now was exasperation and more than a little agitation. She scanned the contents of the large meeting room she was approaching, then she sighed and pushed open the wooden doors, striding inside without breaking pace.

There were eleven individuals within the room, including herself, each of them sitting around a large circular table. Zane had his feet kicked up onto the table, and was the first to greet her as she entered.

“Hey, what's up?” He asked.

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, Zane. Why on earth is half the academy freaking out about system interference? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. It was his fault.” Zane said, pointing at the despondent looking Crest, the fourth blade was sitting with his head in his hands as he mumbled to himself.

“A bunch of Lashivites are holding a candle-lit vigil in the stands.” Mouric said as the large man barged into the meeting room from another door, his blue hair wild and expression a mix of amused and irritated. “They’re praying that the system forgives us for our transgressions, and that it doesn’t punish us further.”

“Ah. Lashivites, the most reasonable reactions, as always.” Zane said, receiving a series of glares. “Sheesh, touchy subject, my bad. Don’t bite my head off.”

“None of us are Lashivites.” Sabline said, the fifth blade rolling a fingernail sized ball of compressed wind between her fingers. “We’re irritated at your attitude.”

Zane blew a raspberry at her. Then the ball of wind blasted him off his chair and up against the far wall with a resonant crack.

“Peace. This meeting was called to create order, and discuss the events that have transpired.” An older woman said, lacing her fingers on the table. She wasn’t a Blade, but instead the spire head of Pellus, Laurum Shan. Sapphire teardrops stained her cheeks, reflecting the same colour as her eyes. “Crest, dear, could you give us an honest recounting of what happened, and perhaps more importantly, why it happened?”

Crest looked uncomfortable as every gaze in the room turned to him. He shuffled in place, not meeting their eyes. “It’s… um, you know…”

“We don’t.” Mouric said. “But thanks for the free point, I appreciate it.”

“I put too much power into the skill.” Crest said, nodding to himself as if that explained anything. “Sorry.”

“The leeches from the capitol are going to think we can magically bestow levels.” Sabline said with a huff. A purple bird, some kind of summoned sparrow, impacted one of the talls windows flanking the left hand side of the room. A whisper of distorted words washed across the meeting table as the creature dissipated into essence. “Oh look, there’s another message. Not sure how it slipped past the defences though.”

The same door Hera had entered through swung inwards, and a tall, sharply dressed man in a flowing red coat strode inside. All eyes turned to the newcomer.

“Apologies. The crowds were rather dense. Are the rumours we’ve finally cracked the mysteries of the universe, and have obtained unlimited power true? Or are they just hearsay?” The man’s voice was rich and smooth, his smile wide and bright.

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“Sit, Vevosis. We only just started.” Laurum Shan said calmly to her fellow spire master.

Vevosis raised an eyebrow, but did as she said, partially. He spun a chair around, straddling it like a horse. He leaned forwards, somehow looking dignified despite his odd choice of posture. He rested his chin on his fist, the golden ring adorned with a ruby on his finger glinting. With her enhanced eyesight, Hera could make out the cracked pattern on the gemstone’s surface.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen.” Crest said, looking guilty. “And truthfully, I’m not sure it's replicable. The system… alters my skills sometimes, to stop things like this from happening.”

“Maybe the Lashivites have it right.” Zane suggested, casually slumped against the wall where he had landed. “Are we being divinely oppressed by the grand working that governs our reality? We must resist! Resist at all costs!”

“The system is helpful.” Crest objected, his tone extremely serious. “It’s our friend.”

“If a paragon of humanity says so, then it must be true.” Vevosis said languidly, his teeth still showing.

“We’ll need to see your research.” Daniela said, speaking up for the first time since Hera had arrived. “This could be a major breakthrough. I know some scholars who would be more than happy to assist us in this matter.”

Hera wanted to roll her eyes at the woman’s blatant attempt at positioning. She spoke up before the conversation got derailed by politics and power plays. “We’ll need to make an official response. Give everyone, outsiders and students both, an explanation, and assurances that we have things under control. We don’t want a riot, or any religious extremists setting themselves on fire.”

“What about the quadriad?” Mouric asked. “We better not be cancelling the event. It’s way too much fun.”

Hera noticed that his eyes flicked to her for an instant, but she pretended she hadn’t. Hopefully the big man would forget all about her current house guest. Maybe the issue at hand would distract him? Either way, as long as Leif kept his head down and didn’t attract any more attention to himself, things should be fine. She hadn’t outright lied during her report after the Pherin expedition, just underplayed the importance of certain actors.

They all agreed, after some time, to a temporary pause of the quadriad. Daniela started pestering Crest for more information on his research, though the more attention the fourth Blade received, the less coherent his answers. Another summoned bird hit the window, dying on impact, and the meeting continued.

===

“I know my seven times table.” Roy said proudly, earning an impressed exclamation from Marcus.

“Wow, that’s really impressive. Sieg still can't count, so you must be really smart.”

The man in question grunted, taking a sip of his drink. They were in the living room of Hera’s residence, and Leif had invited both Marcus and Sieg over. He hadn’t been sure if Hera wanted guests, or rather, any more guests than she already had. But the ninth Blade wasn’t in her home, and Melissa had been more than happy to let them in. They had discussed the incident that had gotten the entire Academy alight with a mixture of nervous and excited energy.

At some point Roy had wandered in from the garden and had started happily chatting away. Leif had told both Marcus and Sieg about the two children he had discovered during his travels to the Academy, so they were both careful not to bring up the expedition. Lucia was nowhere to be seen, but Leif could sense her vitality upstairs, so at least she was safe.

Melissa began working on dinner, and had insisted that both third years stayed to enjoy her cooking. Leif talked with Marcus about the intricacies of spellcraft, and the difficulties he was having with upgrading his skill. Sieg was half engaged with the conversation, half entertaining Roy by freezing the boy's fruit juice, then levitating the cup shaped chunk of orange ice around the room.

Roy laughed and clapped, then instructed the northerner to change the shape of the ice into different things. When there was a small orange dog balanced precariously in his cup, the little boy ran upstairs to show his sister.

“He seems happy.” Marcus observed, nodding in the direction Roy had scampered out of the room. “And healthy.”

“He used to weigh half as much. I’m lucky I found him.” Leif said, taking the opportunity to raise his mask and take a sip of his own drink. The alcohol burnt comfortably as it went down his throat.

“They’re lucky. And in a sense, so are me and Sieg.”

“You helped me just as much as I helped you.”

“Right, because my spine almost being severed was totally survivable without you.”

“We do owe you, Leif.” Sieg said, finishing off his own drink. “But I’d like to think we’d help you even if we didn’t.”

“I don’t want you in my debt. It’s the same reason I don’t want people paying me for my healing. I feel like doing the right thing, being good to others, it should be the norm, not the exception.” Leif said, lowering his mask as light, descending footfalls sounded from the stairs.

“Most people aren’t in the position where they can do that.” Sieg said. “The Academy is all luxury and convenience, but most places aren’t like this.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I’m not asking because I think there's a culprit.” Leif said with a sigh. “I just wish things were… better.”

“Can you make it into a fish?” Roy asked, raising his half melted ice dog up to Sieg. The man smiled, and did just that.

===

Night had fallen, and Hera still hadn’t come home. Both Marcus and Sieg had returned to their apartment an hour ago, trying to beat the fog that swept over the island. From within the greenhouse, the swirling mist was ethereal and otherworldly, it flowed in tandem with the ocean breeze, rolling up against the glass to create phantom shapes. There was nothing magical about the mist, as far as Leif could tell it was simply a natural phenomena.

He focused his awareness on the plant life around him, sensing as they seemed to reach towards him, the ferns unrolling and branches bending. The air was warm, and streams of condensate slid down the outside of the greenhouse as the mist brushed up against it. There was a small pot of half budded flowers that Melissa had been trying, and failing to raise. Leif focused on that, brushing up against the juvenile plants with his aura, sensing as the vitality within them stirred.

The quiet sound of a door clicking closed behind him returned Leif to the present, his perception and aura unspooling outwards. The figure was familiar, and she froze in place as his presence gently washed over her.

“Can I help you, Lucia?” He asked, not turning from his seated position.

“How did you notice me?”

“The door made a small noise, but I would have noticed if you had gotten any closer.”

She clicked her tongue. “Why are you out here?”

“I enjoy it. Why are you out here?”

“I… I was looking for you.”

He turned his masked head to look at her from over his shoulder. “Are you ready to talk?”

She nodded, clenching her fists. Then she took a deep breath, and tried to relax. “I have questions as well.”

He nodded slowly. “I will answer what I can.”

“You won’t lie to me?”

“If I can’t answer a question honestly, I will tell you.”

“Where… Where is Blade Hera?”

“I’m not sure, probably dealing with one thing or another.”

“Okay. I… I trust you more than her anyway.”

“Happy to hear it.” He said, trying to keep any trace amusement out of his voice. Lucia flopped down onto the stone path, tugging at a small patch of grass poking up between two polished tiles.

“Sorry… For punching you, I mean.”

“I forgive you, it didn’t hurt.”

“It hurt me.” She mumbled.

“That’s because you hit a layer of hardened wood.”

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