Chương 44

With all the extra help, Kirk and Pawnce's group cleared out the wandering Geo-3s on the upslope. Then Kirk sat and meditated, allowing his Archetypes to drink their fill from the atmosphere. Some part of him wondered about the relationship between his past self and Leonard. The sweaty boy was clearly nervous around him. Most of his time was spent chewing on his lip or muttering things like 'What is he doing?' and 'What's his plan?' It almost made Kirk smile. This teenager thinks too much.

Kirk reflected as Pawnce got his toe caught in a large crack and tripped. He needs to relax and look. Kirk honestly hadn't really considered the end point of their vigil. But it was good he remained, because several geo groups assaulted the exit portal. For those, Kirk remained sitting and enunciated. Ember Is flared to life, burned with red and gold chains, and shot forward to blast apart the geos. Kirk kept adjusting the syllables; he was sure he was close to finding a comprehensive improvement for the Rune.

Because if he could improve the efficiency of all his Runes, his power would increase again, without him needing to Ascend. During their defense, Conduit groups also approached. Several offered Kirk thanks for being there- apparently some had hunkered down, waiting for a break to escape. Kirk felt tension enter his body- the situation within the Rift was escalating faster than the Hold had expected. Other times passed quietly. Just him, the wind, and Pawnce's mutterings.

Immersed in the dense energy of the Rift, Kirk admitted something to himself: he was very disappointed that he wouldn't be able to Ascend in the grand ceremony, like all the others. But so many things were between him and Ascension. The Greater Hunt, cultivating Greater Fire, but also- Ascension: Death Eating (145/500) My quest is simple, but burdensome, Kirk sighed. About three hours after they came into the Rift, around the same time that Kirk became thirsty, a Troop of Conduits appeared.

Kirk recognized the woman leading them: it was Sanda Wheedle. She offered him a salute.

"The Administrator has agreed to your adjustment to the defensive plan. We are here to relieve you. Good work, Albion."

"Thank you," Kirk said. He bounced back to his feet and rubbed his neck. Pawnce wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"It was a brave and fine thing we did, wasn't it?"

"To survive is the greatest accomplishment." The lazy woman, Melly, yawned. Kirk gave her a sideways glance, but inwardly agreed. Although she hadn't bothered to intervene in any of the clashes against geos, she had always been very precise with her positioning. If Leonard had fallen into danger, she was always just a few steps away. Kirk wondered what her Archetype was. Outside the Rift, the tumult had died down. The guards thanked Kirk again and he waved them off. Leonard popped up at Kirk's elbow.

"Ah, Kirk. I wanted to- ahem, it's been so long. We- if we have the opportunity, if you are free, perhaps a drink together?" Kirk scratched his cheek. The sweat and ache of the earlier events made it difficult to think of anything but a hot bath.

"Yeah, sure. But not tonight. You are staying in the big tent, right?" Leonard's expression turned brittle.

"Big? Is it… too big, do you think?"

"It's your tent." Kirk shrugged. After an awkward moment, Pawnce said.

"So when is good for the drink?"

"I haven't decided." Kirk shrugged again. With that, he left Pawnce behind and went back to his own lodging. Only when he had stripped off his dirty clothes and lowered himself into steaming water, releasing a groan, did Kirk admit a truth to himself: It had been reckless of him to go through into the Rift with no energy. But I'd rather be reckless than do nothing. Kirk half-opened his eyes and watched the steam curl up around him. When the water began to cool, he made a weak Ember and flicked into the water.

It frothed and steamed and Kirk sighed in pleasure. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"This is living," Kirk released a low hum of pleasure. He could almost see the tension flowing out of his body. It was in that loose-muscled mood that Kirk wandered back to his tent. His stomach rumbled; one part of him was tempted to buy hot food from the merchant's quarter, but he also wanted to stuff his mouth with Rift rations and go to bed early. Yet as Kirk arrived at his tent, Bestial Senses whispered a warning. He looked over his shoulder. In the shadows between two tents, a cloaked figure stood.

"Were you waiting for me?" Kirk asked. Although the edges were blurred by shadow, the figure was slender- it was not Muytta. And although the figure was shadowy, it was not the monstrous ally of the Administrator, Balkan.

"For a beam." Kirk straightened. Both at the strange phrase and at the lilting accent. Even through the haze of his memories, old Kirk provided a bit of context. She was from the Imperial Sanctum. This was probably the defector. Even as Kirk processed that information, she spoke again.

"Do you see by good light?"

"What?" The defector hesitated. She took several steps out of the deepest shadow. She was short and slight, although her face was hid by the hood of her cloak. It also occurred to Kirk that she sounded young.

"Initiative has been seized, time and time again. You insert yourself and birth refractions here in this Peakhold. How can you be sure you see by good light?" Kirk tilted his head to the side, finally understanding the defector's question.

"Honestly? Maybe I can't be sure. But-" Kirk recalled one of his earlier meetings with Tafaro Wheedle, the man standing in his smoke-filled shack, chin lifted.

"Sometimes you make a portrait. Because you don't know what else to do."

"Ah. You fear stillness." Kirk opened his mouth to deny it, but then paused. He thought his way through. In the end, he bowed his head.

"Maybe."

"To ascertain pure light, you examine it. Both for movement and for stillness. For it encompasses both." The defector said. Then she bowed.

"May your path be illuminated, Kirk Albion." Without any further explanation for the visit, the cloaked figure left. Kirk scratched his teeth. Finally, his stomach rumbled, and he went inside his tent for a quick meal. For the next few days, Kirk alternated between donating energy, going inside the Rift to help with guarding the exit, and working on his syllable pronunciation.

He paused on the ridge road, now lined with an expanding number of tents, and listened to newly arrived Conduit Troops 'persuading' other Conduits to give them a chance to earn contributions on the defense force. Silver coins exchanged hands Kirk narrowed his eyes. With his Bestial Senses I, he even heard one fussy older man telling a subordinate.

"Danger? Of course there is no danger! Kirkland Albion is here, running the thing. Oh sure, a few geos will wander up, but with so many people, it's basically guaranteed nothing will happen." Kirk wanted to laugh. He also wanted to strangle these new arrivals, who were lethargic when wounded Conduit teams limped up the slope. The only benefit to these new groups was that they were so lax with their Rune and Manifestation usage that it created quite a few ripples in the energy. Good for bait, little else.

Kirk's lip curled upward. Then he paused, because that phrase felt familiar, but he couldn't quite place where it came from. Kirk improved his Ember I pronunciation through repetition and deliberate focus. He kept feeling that he was a single syllable away from an epiphany, but nothing changed. Frustration built, but Kirk stumbled across a new truth while making his attempts-- if he allowed the Rune to float in front of him without his will snapping it, it would linger for several minutes before dissipating.

At first, avoiding snapping the Rune and producing an Ember was difficult; a single glance was enough. The force of his attention alone activated the Rune. But if Kirk closed his eyes, he could just chant the words. Soon five Runes floated around him. He grinned and swept his eyes across them. One by one they snapped and reformed, the combined heat of the five Embers almost searing his face. He pointed.

At once, those Ember Is surged forward and slammed into an unfortunate geo, blowing off its legs, exploding its body, leaving it dead and charred. Another Conduit scurried over, harvested the core, and gave it to Kirk.

"Here you are, Young Master Albion." Kirk hesitated, then offered the Conduit half a loaf of bread from his pack.

"Are you hungry?"

"Oh. Thank you." The Conduit smiled and took the bread. Satisfied with the transaction, Kirk considered his brass band. That little display had earned him two buzzes. Feat Gained! Runic Bombardment ✷ Feat Gained! Suspended Runes ✷ Powerful. However, when you hold the Runes, they drain your energy. Exponentially, the longer you maintain them, Kirk considered his Runic Battery II. I can create 30 Ember Is. More in the Rift, where I'm constantly absorbing. But those five ate half of my energy.

"Still, better to know that it's possible." Kirk reflected on the powerful heat that had been produced by his Runes. When his defensive shift ended, Kirk left the Rift and stretched. To his surprise, waiting outside the portal was a familiar face. Rufus straightened immediately when he saw Kirk. The lanky young man lifted his chin.

"I'll earn my spot for Ascension with my sweat and tears. I don't need your help." Kirk didn't even bother to respond, letting Rufus march past him into the Portal. After a long day, he had no patience to deal with him. Just one more individual who made assumptions about Kirk. Honestly? Rufus's habit of it was more bothersome than most. Because they had quite a few interactions. He should know better.

It was only when he was back in Peakhold and boiling his bathwater with Embers that something occurred to Kirk; today, the last tent from Imperial Sanctum had vanished.

"So much is happening at once," Kirk muttered.

"The world is chaotic, isn't it?" But then he sank into the hot water and forgot everything else but relaxation.