The 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 doom 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 mortal dimension where the old 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 (I)
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 large, sprawling balcony that reached into 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 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 jaw 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 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 shift 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 expressions of 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 shaking 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 a recounting 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. Shiv grinned at the Composer’s 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 that 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. “I would like to recognize our foreign heroes: Adept Adam. Master Shiv.”
“Godsdamn you, Shiv,” Adam hissed 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 to improve like Shiv.
The Composer continued, flicking her many 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.”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
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.
“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 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 which 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.
Can a goddess even feel uncertain?
“Honored Guests,”the Composer said, halting Shiv and Adam before they could leave. “You may stay a while. The ceremony might be over, but I have debts to pay and gifts to offer.”She looked to her subjects and smiled brightly. “Sisters. Mothers. I will seek 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. Though I daresay some among your number have already tasted novel delights in the aftermath…”
Ikki’s grin turned absurd. She looked like she was about to choke. 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. 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 extremely beautiful as well? And the incident at Cradle, you must understand—”
The Composer raised a hand to her mouth and began to giggle girlishly. Adam, not expecting this, flinched. “Shiv. Shiv! What’s happening?”
Shiv looked at him and shrugged as she laughed in the background. “She finds you funny, I guess. Good that someone does. Congratulations.”
“Oh, why did I even bother asking you,” the Young Lord spat under his breath.
As the Composer controlled herself, 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 at 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 trailed 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 the 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.
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 had much taste for turning from discomfort. “My parents murdered and sacrificed his mother and unborn sister in a horrific ritual when I was born. 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 true anger in his voice.
“I don’t see the point of hiding and pretending about problems,” Shiv replied. “She’d probably have 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 magic. “I’m just used to speaking for myself.”
Adam didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the goddess.
“I’m sorry if I caused this,” the Composer said, seeming ashamed. 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 exactly did you want to talk with us about?”
The Composer let her gaze linger on Adam for a moment longer in concern, then spoke. “I wish to bestow upon the two of you my Blessing.”