by Skyler Grant
Iris didn't even look surprised when Van came inside and told her he had a cart full of bodies to scan to see if any had an open contract. She went out with a hand scanner to identify them. Two had outstanding bounties on their name, although the pair together only brought in two hundred. Then Iris charged him fifty off that to haul all the bodies away for incineration.
Doxy at the weapon shop also didn't seem fazed by picking through an assortment of corpse-scavenged arms. Van wound up keeping the shotgun for himself, and for the rest he managed to barter six hundred in addition to repairs to his armor and a new helmet. This helmet still wasn't essence-infused, but it had a working tactical display and matched the color of his armor.
Alexa hadn't returned by bedtime and Van wound up going to sleep without speaking to her.
When he woke he wasn't where he should have been.
This was his ritual, it must be. Van's armor was still at the shop, and now he didn't even have the bedclothes he'd changed into. He looked to be in the desert somewhere, stretched out on the baked dirt. On the ground was food and water, about a week's worth if he was careful. That wasn't the most interesting part. He was in the eye of a twister, a tornado that was on fire. Surrounding him were stones that glowed with a faint luminescence. They were all that seemed to be saving Van from being torn apart.
This had to be it, his ritual, what else could it be? But how had Alexa arranged this? He'd seen her display power before, and this was well beyond anything she'd put out.
No, this had to be some natural feature of the planet. Some sort of endless storm. Enough food for a week, which meant if he had to guess those stones probably also had about a week's worth of power in them.
Van suddenly realized just how unprepared he felt. What were a few breathing exercises against something like this? Sure, he'd begun to sense the flow of essence. There was a big difference between eating a few peaches and moving that power around in his body to conquering something like this.
Whining wouldn't help matters. This required a solution.
Van took a seat as he often had when practicing his breathing exercises and focused. Just because he had been told one thing didn't mean it was the only solution to the problem. Van had been moved here somehow, and he suspected it had to do with those stones. If they could bring him into this mess alive, they could get him out alive. That wasn't the ideal solution, it was only one to keep in mind. He may have options.
It wasn't his only consideration. While he was here to do the ritual of his body, his mind and spirit were also ready. Figuring out a solution with the stones, mastering their ability and using it to his advantage might count as a mind solution.
More than that, what they did was almost certainly an expression of essence. Taking that sort of thing into his body and binding it to his will might allow him to directly create such a protective field.
Those possibilities were tempting, and if Van was being honest with himself it was mostly because he was terrified of the storm. Terror was sane. Terror was healthy.
Terror wasn't what he wanted guiding his decisions.
The supplies weren't here for nothing. If Van was supposed to just charge out into the storm then Alexa wouldn't have left them. There was no reason for her to want him to fail. He was allowed to take his time.
Given that Van basically had one trick available to him, that was what he did. He breathed.
The howl of the wind was so intense it was difficult to concentrate.
The rest of the day passed without any real feeling of progress. Van ate as lightly as he could and came to regret that there wasn't anything resembling a proper toilet.
There also wasn't anything like a bed when night fell. Just the hard dirt and the constant howling of the wind.
Day two was a lot like day one, except with sleep exhaustion tossed in. A delirious sort of haze and a constant irritation with the noise that became almost maddening.
If Alexa was out there, if she was aware of his progress at all—or lack of it—there was no sign. Nothing changed. Van's mind started to conjure the craziest of theories. Perhaps he was dreaming, perhaps he had been captured and was in prison.
The next night was haunted by nightmares.
Day three was better. Not great, but by now Van had something of a routine. Go to the bathroom on the edge of the storm, return and eat a few bites and drink some water, before sitting down for meditation. The howling didn't seem nearly so terrible, it was almost comforting, and he found himself easing into a trance much more quickly.
That was the first time he sensed, truly sensed, the essence of the storm. Howling winds, explosive gasses, and the dust blown being particulate metal—if he stepped out into it, it would turn him into bloody paste. Somehow he was sure it would, and he was sure a great many had.
It wasn't until the fourth day that he really figured out how to start drawing that essence of the storm and channeling it into himself. Before, he'd viewed that core of his own essence as a small pond. As he channeled the storm into it that pond became an oasis in the midst of chaos. The storm surrounding him on all sides was starting to grow within Van as well.
30
"While essence effects are sustainable and duplicable in the laboratory, they appear largely incompatible with most advanced technology. Some further research is warranted, and I'd recommend mechanized-armor and a plasma cannon over bullet-resistant skin and the ability to punch through walls in almost all conditions." Sincorp Lab Report
It was day seven. The last of the food and water was gone. Van didn't think that he was ready. He wasn't sure seven days had been enough. Perhaps that was because he was simply not as good as Alexa thought he should be, or it was the sheer difficulty of trying to bind the three elements. Van felt the storm inside of him at all times now, inside, outside, mirrors of each other.
Van was well aware that stepping into the storm might kill him. It was one thing to take a part of it into himself, he was faster and stronger now, but the storm was a killer. It would cut him to pieces. Even if he survived somehow, it would be at grave cost.
That line of thought was interrupted as he felt movement in the storm. Someone was coming, several people, three of them making their way towards him.
Van rose to his feet. At least the storm largely kept the sun away. Otherwise days of exposure would have left him a burned mess.
A figure stepped through the storm into the calm, holding a glowing stone in one hand. They weren't a Peasant. Van recognized the distinctive black robes at once. This was one of those who had seized Alexa.
A second, then a third came in.
"He doesn't look very dead," one said.
"We can fix that," said another.
Van said, "Without even telling me who you are? That isn't very polite."
This situation wasn't good. All three had swords, and if they were like the black-robed opponents of before all would be at least in their first evolution. Van was naked, unarmed, and that meant pretty much screwed.
The one advantage he had—and right now it didn't feel like much of an advantage—was the storm. Van had spent a week binding himself to it, connecting to it. Alexa had once said a bath was about the last place you would want to attack her. Water was one of her elements.
"We're those making sure you don't try and play rescuer this time around," said a serious-looking young woman with dark hair. She drew her sword. The two men also pulled out theirs.
Van was just meat for the slaughter. The one chance that he had to live through this was to do exactly what he'd come here to do. The fact that he still didn't feel ready, it didn't matter.
Instead of charging at the intruders, Van ran at one of the stones powering the barrier and with a kick sent it sailing off into the storm.
The results were immediate. The sanctuary was breached and the winds blew in. Van was buffeted backwards and a shard of metal dug deeply into his right shoulder. Another sank into his chest. He couldn't see, and fiery heat surrounding him
on all sides.
Without thinking Van found his breathing altering. Until now his rhythm had been the one that Alexa had taught him, one commonly used by archers. This was something different. It was coming from the storm itself, matching its patterns and rhythms.
Van couldn't see, still blinded by the storm, but he didn't need to—the storm was his eyes. The three were still where they had been, sword in one hand and stones in another protecting them from the storm.
They wouldn't be able to see any better than he did. Van closed with one of the men and slammed a fist into his wrist, trying to break his hold on the stone. It didn't work, his grip was too strong, and the sword was swinging towards him. Van moved—not as he had ever moved before. This was more like a gust, a short flicker, and he was on the other side of the man and again he hammered a fist.
The man wasn't expecting it and this time the stone dropped from his fingers. That was all it took. The man's scream was masked by the howling of the wind as he was battered and beaten. Having undergone his first evolution his body was strong, but the storm was brutal, relentless.
Van might have doubted his own protection from the storm. Now it was evident. He was a torn bleeding mess, but at least he was still standing.
Another gusting move and he was before the second of the men. This time Van used the storm to fuel his punch. Hitting not with his strength but its, driving with the fury of the wind and the sharpness of the metal-laden dust. His blow caught the man in the throat and he stumbled back, gasping, and the stone dropped.
A sword almost caught Van from behind—the woman was good, fast. Van didn't recognize her path. It wasn't Alexa's, but it must be something related. Those who served her Prime's house. Van gusted again, moving in a flicker to behind her and he lashed out with a kick to the back of one of her knees.
The woman staggered but held onto her stone. With a pirouette she turned on one foot and drove her sword into Van's arm. It only made the briefest of contact before he flickered away, yet another injury to add to his collection.
His consciousness was starting to waver and fade. The storm was too much for him to handle, too much for him to process. He was burning himself apart from the inside, holding onto too much power.
Another storm-fueled punch, this time to the woman's jaw, and she stepped backward dropping her sword. She still held onto the stone and was trying to retreat. Van wasn't sure she'd make it—he wasn't sure he would.
She vanished, heading deeper into the storm—he knew that much.
Van went in the other direction. His body had taken two dozen more cuts by the time he finally reached the end of the storm, his skin slick with blood as he fell out of the wind funnel.
A woman was mediating, and she stood up at his arrival. Her features were familiar—they were Alexa's, but this wasn't her. The armor was also something he'd seen before.
Another of Yui's clones—the woman in green armor. The fuel-driven inferno at the starport hadn't killed her after all.
31
There are few things more dangerous than to be the first to tread a path. The fear is not that you might plummet to your death, that is almost guaranteed, but rather that you might succeed and reach a destination none would seek.
"Congratulations are in order. You may be the apprentice of a traitor, but the fact that you have come through in one piece says something," said the woman with Alexa's face. The voice was even hers too, although the accent was subtly different. Alexa's time living amongst the Empire must have had some effect.
"I fear you caught me at a bad time. If I'd expected company I'd have dressed for it," Van said.
"With your wits intact too, no less. Did you kill my people?"
"Two of them. The third is lost in the storm but has her protection. She may not live," Van said. While he was trying to project as much strength into his voice as he could, he was wobbling.
"You are in no condition to fight me. You have done well in service of your mistress, but her time is done. There is no honor in serving one such as she. Stand down and I shall take you with me and you can survive this day."
Van might have fought if he had any fight left in him. Now that he was out of the storm the toll on his body was simply too great. He had nothing left to give.
Van nodded. It was the last thing he did before he collapsed unconscious.
When Van awoke it was to find himself on a mat. The wooden walls were familiar, like living trees. He must have been moved aboard the ship. At least he was dressed, in a robe similar to those he'd seen his adversaries wear although this one was white.
Beneath the robes he could feel poultices. It felt like they'd been applied pretty much everywhere, which fit given the degree of damage that he'd taken.
"You're up."
Van looked towards the sound of the voice. The green-armored woman, Alexa's twin, rose from a seat in a shadowy corner where she must have been watching over him.
"Thank you, I suppose, for not killing me while I was unconscious," Van said.
"Do not mistake me for that dishonorable monster that you've served. We may share a face and a path. That is all we have in common."
That seemed like quite a lot to Van.
"I'm Van," Van said.
"You may call me Kana. Do not confuse what has happened with mercy. I may yet kill you, and in many ways you deserve it. Yet, what am I here for, if not to put right the things the traitor has done wrong?"
"She has a name," Van said.
"No, she doesn't. Not anymore. It was stripped from her with good reason. Everything that she had was a gift, one she squandered and betrayed. Some good will come out of it in the end—but we aren't talking about her. We are talking about you," Kana said.
Van had to be careful here. Kana was more powerful than he was, probably quite a bit more powerful. Everything that Alexa said about politeness held true here. If he was going to stand a chance at helping Alexa, he was going to have to stay alive. That meant holding back his words, however much he wanted to speak them.
Van dipped his head. "I apologize."
Kana studied him and the faintest flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of one lip. "Good. You survived that storm, which is impressive. Killing three of ours was even more impressive when you are yet weak. I see why she spent the time on you. I am willing to spend similar time. You serve a new mistress now."
Like hell he did.
Van dipped his head again. "With respect, can you take on that responsibility? Won't you eventually need to give up your life?"
Kana nodded a fraction. "Yes, and when I do I shall give you away to another talented sister. If, one day, you surpass any of the sisters then you will be given to the princess herself. That is commonly the way with our students, lovers, or toys."
Van wondered for a moment which way she was thinking of him, and decided that was territory he really didn't need to explore. Alexa had never spoken this way, brushing aside any sort of that talk. Perhaps this was part of the reason why.
"That's why you are willing to do me the kindness of accepting me," Van said.
Was he pouring it on too thick? It didn't seem like it. Kana's expression hadn't soured yet.
"I did not think she'd have anything worth taking. I was wrong," Kana said. "What were you two doing on this world? We know you were in contact with the Peasants. Was she hoping to use them against us?"
Van had been wondering how they'd found her, how they'd found him. They must have an agent in the Peasants. But not the fire-giantess Song. If so they'd have known exactly the reason.
"We were hiding, taking bounties. The Peasants knew who she was and wanted to hold that over her," Van said.
If Kana didn't know who he was already, he thought it best to keep it that way.
"I know you are probably thinking about her still, or of betraying me. Don't. You will never achieve your full potential without my help. Whatever she offered, I offer more, and all I require is your complete and unwavering loyalty," Kana said.<
br />
Van didn't answer. It might have sold his story a bit more to swear it right there, but he didn't want to.
Kana didn't seem to expect it. With one hand she motioned for him to rise and she moved towards the door. "I've had a room assigned to you. It connects with mine. I expect to see you at first bell so we can assess what you've learned and determine your next steps."
Van knew time was against him. Now that he was aboard, the ship had no reason to linger on this planet. If they hadn't already taken off, they would soon. They'd be watching him closely. If Van was going to make a move it would have to be tonight.
32
Bernwood growers. Eat a peach today that has been growing for over one thousand years. Exclusive foodstuffs for exclusive clients.
Van's quarters were actually rather nice. Simple, but nice. A comfortable mat on the floor and lots of paintings of water scenes on the walls.
Van settled down as soon as he was in and began to meditate. His senses were sharper now and while this ship had a vastly different sort of energy than the storm, Van was hoping he'd be able to find out something.
Letting his mind spread outward he was aware of some things. He was pretty sure they hadn't launched. There were life signs out beyond the confines of the ship—they weren't in space.
Kana was an easily sensed presence next door. Without a doubt she was the strongest person on the ship. Van wondered if she had taken over for the old commander after what had happened before, or was this even the same ship at all?
Van had spent so much time in Alexa's company that he knew the feel of her essence. Even in this land of people who all had very similar auras of water and ice, hers was distinctive.
She was still alive, Van didn't question that. Yui couldn't suck the power of out of a corpse.
