Nestling

by Lupine King

  PART I

  The Steel Truth

  Tell me, child

  Do you know from whence you came?

  The origins of the blood in your veins,

  The shade of your eyes,

  The pull of your smile

  The fire of your essence

  Or the spark that is your life?

  Tell me, child

  Do you know our story?

  The tale of glory that is our line.

  The heights we once reached

  The falls we took,

  The love of family and the kiss of traitors

  Of how we came to be here, so far from home?

  Speak child!

  When all is silent and you listen to your heart,

  Do you hear the blood call?

  Do you hear the ancestors weep?

  Do you hear the founder cry?

  Do you hear the mountain lament as she calls her children home?

  Set forth, child!

  Strive towards a time of future past

  When we will stand, proud and undaunted

  Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters,

  Parents and children in glorious line?

  That our cherished heritage will be proclaimed

  And our bloodied past laid to rest.

  Do not forget, child!

  Do not forget from whence you came.

  Do not forget how came you here,

  Poor and downtrodden.

  Learn from the folly of our ancestors.

  And do not forget the blood call!

  ONE

  Frightening Revelations

  “This ... this ... this is unbelievable!” Valan managed to articulate.

  “Trust me, grandfather. It is true”, Valerian emphasised to his stunned family. His biggest fear at the moment was that they would not believe him. Unfortunately, the looks on their faces did not exactly fill him with hope.

  They were in one of the manor rooms having locked themselves in and cast spells to prevent any mundane or supernatural spying. Avery stood behind Valerian, backing up his account of events whiles his uncles and grandparents simply looked on with disbelief in their eyes.

  Evading bandits, entering a strange trance as a result of a weird instinct, devouring the flesh and essence of a dragon, being reborn in a giant egg whilst experiencing snippets of the life of the original golden-winged peng and then waking up in a strange and powerful daemonic form.

  The only reason they were still listening to the story was that it was coming from Valerian and being confirmed by Avery. Valerian would not lie. Especially about something like this.

  “Perhaps it is best if you show us the transformation first”, his grandmother stated.

  “Yes!” Valerian accepted. That would help. After all, seeing is beleiving.

  “It took a while before I was able to control it well enough", he admitted. "I was barely successful in hiding it from the elder who came to rescue us and his team. In that time, we discovered a few things. Err... you might want to give me some more space”.

  They quickly gave him some more room. When he had enough, Valerian nodded and initiated the change. First, a soft, translucent golden qi encapsulated his outline. Then, the transformation began. Spikes began to grow from his joints. One from his shoulders that looked like a three-peaked ridge. Two were small, barely three or four centimetres long, but the middle one jutted out like a steel dagger at ten centimetres.

  Simple, single spikes came from his elbows and knees, the ones from his heels were only six centimetres long whilst the others were comparable to the central shoulder spike. Valerian's hair became black, feathery, metallic bristles and his nails gained a metallic glint. Thus far, it looked like the steel monolith transformation. Even the raised knuckles of Valerian's hands implied this. But what happened next proved that it was not.

  Lots of qi blasted out of Valerian's back. Before their stunned eyes, this qi shaped itself into a massive pair of translucent golden wings. They flapped once, creating a strong gust of wind that buffeted everything in the vicinity. Afterwards, his golden outline faded away.

  Looking at his family, Valerian finally gave a small smile. “This is one of the things I discovered. It is a sort of halfway form. When I am like this I gain a boost to all my attributes; strength, speed, energy, defence everything seems to go up.”

  “So this... this is not your final form?” his Grandfather asked.

  “Not even close”, Valerian confirmed. “This is”, he added right before continuing.

  The feeling in the air immediately changed. His golden outline came back only more intense. Without any more qi being visibly released, his wings began to change. They started became more opaque and substantial. A pattern began to appear on them and Valerian began to rise into the air. The two appendages swiftly turned into gold and the feathers, previously indistinct, became fleshed out. They were also now much larger than they used to be.

  Involuntarily, everyone took a few steps back. That was because the most startling thing about the change was not Valerian's physical appearance. Apart from the wings becoming larger and more realistic, not much changed physically. His presence, however, did.

  An immense pressure weighed down on everyone in the vicinity and a feeling of dread crept into their hearts. It was a feeling not unlike standing a close to a dangerous animal. Something told you to keep your eyes focused on it and be prepared. If not, when it eventually attacked you would not stand a chance. It was the paralysis a mouse felt gazing into the eyes of a cobra. It was both these things and more.

  The cultivators in the room were better able to withstand it but the magistrate was soon puffing and panting. His wife quickly took his hand in hers and extended her own energy to help him combat the pressure.

  “When Avery explained to me what you are feeling I was not surprised. The Kun had dragons trembling in its presence. I, however, am not that strong yet”, he said wistfully.

  Pushing her husband towards his nephews, Valerian's grandmother drew closer to her grandson. Her amazement clear on her face, she placed a hand on his left wing. Running her fingers over the metallic thing, she traced the cloudy pattern that decorated the sharp feathers.

  “This is...” she tried to get out.

  “I know”, Valerian finished a smug look slinking onto his face. “There's more.”

  “What else?” Richard asked. His tongue managing to untie itself.

  The young arcanist simply pointed to his feet. They hung half a metre off the stone tiled floor. His entire body was suspended in the air by his outstretched wings. “I cannot touch the ground!” he proclaimed.

  “WHAT?” came the general response.

  To demonstrate, he sank downwards till his feet were maybe two centimetres from the floor. “This is as low as I can go full transformation. I tried everything but always remained in the air somehow. I can touch it with my hands but rest of my body especially my feet and wings will still be airborne”, he explained.

  Not giving anyone a chance to speak, he continued. “Then, there's the power surge”.

  “There's a power surge?” his uncle Jonas asked.

  “In the half form, everything receives a boost but when I am like this I feel ...” his voice trailed off as he allowed his senses to savour the feeling of power coursing through his body.

  “Incredible!” he added extending and retracting his arms so fast that they were blurs to the magistrate's sight.

  “I know I am above everything I see”, he told them. “All my powers, my traits and my spells are magnified to greater heights. I tried [Wind Blade] back in the cavern and scoured a deep gash in the cave walls. Walls consisting of essence imbued mineral ore. It is like the world is ripe for me. Ready for the taking. And the wind ...
r />   “Oh, the wind! It sings to me. Desiring to be beneath me. To hold up my wings. I hear it and know that if I were to call, it would answer. I just have to think it and it would bear me up. Then, I will soar into the sky” he said, a trace of longing in his voice.

  His family members exchanged worried glances as they listened to him speak. His voice, no, his tone. It did not match the Valerian they knew.

  “That is enough, Valerian!” his grandfather called. “Transform back!” he ordered.

  The boy's head whipped in his direction, glaring imperiously at him. A constricting feeling came over him. It was like the gaze was pinning him down. Any second now it would swoop down towards him and... it went away. The pressure disappeared leaving Valan breathing heavily in relief much to the alarm of his family.

  The golden outline came over Valerian again and his transformed features begun to slip away. When it faded, he dropped to the ground where he teetered on unsteady feet looking unwell. His face paled and his aura grew weak. Avery, already expecting this, rushed to him and propped him up.

  “What's wrong?” His grandmother inquired frantically. “Is he alright?”

  “It is alright, grandmother!” her grandson muttered weakly. “I just feel weak when I revert to this form. I’ll be fine after a while. I guess readjusting to this weak body and level of power requires some time.”

  Again, his family exchanged tense looks. His grandparents, in particular, had some fear on their faces. There was definitely more to it than that.

  “Avery, take Valerian to his room to recuperate. He is undoubtedly drained from his transformation”, his grandfather told the minder.

  He missed the angry look that Valerian shot him. He knew they were only sending him away so they could discuss the issue when he left. He could not believe the old coot was actually sending him away at this juncture.

  ‘When would he stop treating me like a child?' he thought angrily. A strange resolve came upon him. This treatment had to end. The last few days had made that abundantly clear.

  With Valerian out of the room, Valan turned to face his family, inviting them to a discussion as was his fashion. The whole thing made his head spin. He was visibly disturbed especially after the last few minutes. Unconsciously, he scrambled for some semblance of control.

  “You saw the same things I did. What do you think?” he asked.

  “Valerian... h-he.. he ...” Jonas started but his voice petered out. He could not articulate what was going on in his mind. The other three sympathised. They were having problems coming to grips with it too.

  “Perhaps, I should take the lead” his aunt offered helpfully. “I am the most knowledgeable in this area.”

  “That is true", Valan admitted after some thought. Clara did come from an established line of daemon breeders and as a beast master herself she would know more about it than they did. “What can you tell us?”

  “Let me start by saying that Valerian is definitely a descendant of the Golden-Winged Peng”, she began. The others made to protest but she raised her hand to quell them, an action she had picked up from her husband.

  “I understand your objections but let me point out that being the descendant of the peng does not mean that his mother is a peng or that he is an immediate relative. It just means that he can trace his line to it and that his bloodline is pure and strong. There are other factors that lend credence to this as well”, she explained.

  “Factors such as?” Valan asked.

  "Before, we knew he had a legacy only it never exposed itself fully. I believe it wasn't just unawakened but also weak. The traits he displayed before were seriously watered down when compared with what he shows now. His ability to absorb essence and strengthen his body wasn't as strong as it was now. I'm sure Richard and Jonas noticed it too."

  The two nodded prompting Valan to ask, “Noticed what exactly?”

  Richard spoke up, “Valerian's absorption rate. At first, none of us could actually tell when he was doing it. We could only trace it from its cumulative effects but now even in his base form you can tell if you bother to look."

  Understanding what they meant Valan could only inquire, “How serious is it?”

  “You know how we always say that Valerian's body is self-cultivating?” Clara questioned her husband. He nodded and she continued. “If I didn't know what I do I'd think he was doing it intentionally. As in that, he was somehow cultivating whiles talking to us. His absorption rate is around the same level as that of most first tiers in the midst of cultivating.

  “Beyond that, I really can't say. It's like his body is a sink. All essence that draws too close to him is sucked in. It isn't particularly significant but anyone who is sensitive to energy and energy flows will surely notice if they come close to him.”

  “I ... see”, Valan said.

  “It's not just that. Did you get a feel of his strength and speed?” his wife asked.

  “That I did”, he acknowledged. “When he moved his arms, they were pretty much a blur to me”.

  Richard spoke up again. “I'd say that in that form he is at least six times faster than he was before he left. His strength is much greater too, at least twice so but I would need a better demonstration to be sure.”

  Richard could not help it. He was excited. All these years, he had been holding on, constantly dragging his nephew into training sessions when everyone else was beginning to see it as a forsaken path. With Valerian's new method and physique, the things they could do ...

  His aunt was still speaking however so he tried to listen.

  “... the most telling signs were his wings and his aura. It was so strong and suffocating and yet had this majestic air. Only high-class daemons have that sort of aura. Valerian even mentioned that dragons trembled in the face of his ancestor's aura. Further supporting this is the fact that the memories he experienced are consistent with the hereditary memories of high-class daemons.

  “On top of this, the form he displayed had aspects of the steel monolith transformation. You know your blood legacy better than I do. For this legacy to assimilate it and not the other way around lets you know how far above yours it is. Moreover, the only things it took were cosmetic. As for the wings, they are solid gold. They aren't plated or coloured but made from actual gold with a cloudy pattern splayed over the feathers. And the gold ... I think it is imperial.”

  The last bit caught everyone's attention.

  “Are you certain? Can you ...?”

  “Of course I'm certain. This isn't something that you can joke with. Gold is soft but when I held his feathers between my fingers and pinched nothing happened. I couldn't leave a mark no matter how hard I tried. You saw what I did, they manifested themselves, transitioning between solid metal and pure essence in moments. The only gold I know of that is that mystical and tough is imperial gold. Or do you know of any others?” Clara barked at him.

  Contrite the magistrate tried to explain, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to doubt you it's just that ...”

  Her face softened. “I understand dear. It's the same for me”.

  “I am worried”, he supplemented. “We had hoped that his mother's legacy would reveal itself but this throws all our plans out. If the Golden-Winged Peng, assuming that was indeed who he encountered, did not somehow ingrain that method into him we would be even worse off now than we were before. How do we help him? What techniques or training can we give someone who is descended from a primordial?

  "Moreover, you saw how it affected him. The way his personality and his body changed, not to mention the side effects he displayed upon reverting. Valerian has all that power and no idea how to use it or even of its consequences. And we cannot help. Not to mention, if anyone were to find out about this legacy and the blood that his maternal clan carries... Who knows what they would do?"

  Realisation dawning in his eyes, he spun to gaze at his family, eyes burning with emotion.

  “Could this be the reason for his mother's secrecy? Her background is so shrou
ded in mystery, she may as well have risen fully-formed from the earth. Perhaps, this was what she was hiding, as well as the reasons for her disappearance. If Valiant did not know this when he went searching for her and ran into trouble of that magnitude ...?”

  Clara immediately reached out her hand and took his in it. Rubbing it, she drew him out of his spiralling thoughts.

  “Now is not the time for that, Valan. Focus! We need to make Valerian our current priority. This is not something we can put away. This legacy is bigger than us. We must decide what to do and how we'll handle this”, she told him.

  Taking the time to consider her words, the magistrate sighed.

  "First, we have to impress upon him that he must not enter that form under any circumstances. It is far too eye-catching and we do not know who might notice. Until we are sure about the effects and how to handle them, he has to remain in his human form.

  “Secondly ...” here, he hesitated unable to believe he had been about to suggest..

  “Secondly what, Valan?” His wife prodded.

  In a gravely reluctant tone he answered,” We have to go see my father!”

  TWO

  The Steel Heart

  Henry Steelborn was a guard. The kind stationed in front of gates and walls as extra security. One might think that it was a lowly occupation for someone bearing the Steelborn name but even Steelborns need guards and his responsibility was many times greater than the average. He watched over the inner area of the clan compound. The place where the greatest of the Steelborns resided as well as where their primary offices were. It was not a post that could be trusted to outsiders.

  The pay was good and the acknowledgement and responsibility that came with being one of the clan’s primary defenders were stupendous. Far more than a guard should probably have. Then again, he was one of the clan’s protectors. Despite this, even he knew that any enemy skilled enough to get past the wards in place would also be one that he would be helpless against.