Runeblade

Kaius rocked back in his chair, buffeted by a storm of bitter excitement, anxiety, and fury. On one hand, Kanmost had just given him the single most helpful lead towards finding his father’s killers that he had ever received.

On the other, he wished it had come in any other form.

Across from him, Kenva still fumed silently, jaw bulging as she ground her teeth. The Bloodstones were a sacred thing — central to the entire Hiwiann culture, as were their pilgrimages to their holy cities. Violating that was beyond the pale.

But Wilting Rose was a killer, of course he wouldn’t care.

He reached over, grabbing her hand. Her eyes snapped to his own, a solid sapphire blue that burned with outrage.

“We have to stop them!” she hissed.

“Kenva, I intend to skin the man alive — of course we’ll stop them,” Kaius replied.

Kenva held his gaze for a long moment, before she burst to her feet and started to pace back and forth across the centre of the marquee.

“I’ll need to contact my clan as soon as possible — they’ll need time to spread the word to the elders. Did the letter say anything else? Numbers, plans, movements?” Kenva said, focusing on Kanmost.

The Archivist shook his head. “I wish I could say otherwise. It was a simple missive — I doubt they wanted to discuss anything sensitive when it could be intercepted.”

“Why the solstice, anyway? Surely that would be the worst time to strike — you made it sound like the cities are pretty empty outside of the pilgrimages,” Porkchop asked.

Kenva shook her head. “The Bloodstones are hidden the rest of the year, guarded constantly by our oldest and most powerful. They’re Objects of Power, rather than a Place.During the solstice, they sit in the middle of the central square. But you’re right — they’d have to be fools to strike during the festival. I assume they plan to snatch them either before or afterwards, when they are being transported.”

“Do you know if they’re transported between cities? Some host pilgrimages on the equinox, right?” Ianmus asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I don’t know,” Kenva hissed. “I wish I did, but noone other than the elders know. Which makes it all the more confusing about how the fucking Onyx know enough to be confident even attempting it in the first place! Fuck. Fuck! I have to do something.”

She was spiraling, plain as day — almost exactly like he had when he’d learned his father’s blade had been stolen. It was understandable. The sheer gall to steal the Bloodstones was unimaginable to him. The Onyx would make an enemy of every Hiwiann in existence, how could it possibly be worth it? Their trade was the lifeblood of the continent, and they would have more than enough powerhouses to make the lives of any and every member of the Onyx very very difficult.

There had to be more at play. That was fine. If there was one thing this letter had given them, it was time.

“Kenva!” Kaius said, clapping his hands. His friend started, looking at him. “Remember where we are — Vainblood, on the tail of a Golden member of the Onyx. There is nothing we can do. Not yet. But we will. The gods know we will. Wilting Rose owes me much.”

Kenva deflated, slinking back towards her ruined chair. She sank back down. “I know. It’s just…fuck.”

“If I may be so bold,” Kanmost interjected, drawing their attention. “Remember that this plot is a year and a half away.”

He waved his hand at Ianmus. “If the frankly unbelievable growth of my old student is anything to go by, the four of you have achieved some truly monstrous things in the last eighteen months. Where will you be in another? You have power, capability, and connections — use them. Prepare. But do not allow a simple letter to distract you. It is a waste of time when you could be forwarding your goals.”

The man was right. Eighteen months ago, he was still an unclassed, trapped in the Depths. Now, he was over halfway to Gold. Where would they be when Wilting Rose tried to bring his foul plans to bear? Platinum? Mythril? How many more honours would they accrue? What if they managed to improve their classes to Epic?

“You know, when I think about that, I feel much better about the whole thing,” Kaius mused. “No matter how well prepared they are, do you think they will be ready for four delvers of the same caliber as our friend?”

He tapped his leg, the same one the Castellan had cut off. Kanmost might already know more than Kaius was strictly comfortable with, but revealing the existence of a sentient Mythril automaton bound to his cause was about fifteen steps too far.

“You’re right,” Kenva replied, sighing. “The gods’ know you’re right. It’s just… they’re the Bloodstones, you know? It’s like discovering someone is planning to plunder your ancestral crypt.”

“Believe me, I understand,” Kaius whispered. He could still remember the weight of it, and the odd fluidity with which the blade moved the few times his father had let him hold it. The way the wind screamed with every cut, resonating in the diamond-shaped cut-outs that dotted its fuller. The damn thing had felt like it wanted to dance right out of his hands. Art in Motion.

One day, the sword would rest easy in his possession, where he would belt it on his hip with pride. It belonged next to A Father’s Gift, not rotting away in the hands of a thief and a murderer. He’d look ridiculous carting around two longswords, but he didn’t care. It was his father’s fucking blade.

Kenva’s expression softened. “Of course you do.”

“Well, at least we’re united in purpose. But, as much as I hate being the voice of reason, we should move on. It’s been nearly an hour since Flowers left, and we can’t let him pull too far ahead.”

“Right,” Kanmost muttered. “You mentioned some sort of agreement with my august employer?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Ianmus grumbled next to the man. “He deigned to be less of a petty cock, and will so graciously grant us access to the Wellspring after helping to rescue you, and we help him flush out who betrayed him.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“So he’s not a total fool, then,” Kanmost huffed. Kaius got the distinct impression he was not a fan of the lord.

“No, he is not,” Kaius agreed. “He suspects Kel — I am less sure. Frostbloom is calculative, but that leans in his favour. This whole job is…messy, and while I don’t think Kel is above such petty treachery he feels like he would favour a more delicate touch. On the other hand, Rosenhall is a hotheaded fool.”

Kanmost nodded thoughtfully. “When do we set off then? We best not wait too long — these old bones aren’t as spry as they used to be, and I'm a useless sort for battle, so you’ll no doubt be slower than you would be alone.”

The Archivist didn’t even hesitate for a second — not even with a lethally dangerous crater of magical darkness separating him from the Wellspring. Kaius grinned.

“What?” the man asked.

“Julian said you would sooner die than miss a chance to see the Wellspring for yourself, but I’d thought he was exaggerating at least a little bit.”

“Well, he wasn’t — so let me ask again, when do we set off?”

Ianmus frowned at his old mentor. “Are you sure? You’ve been a captive for over a month! We could spare at least a few hours for you to rest and recover.”

The Archivist raised an eyebrow at the mage. “Ianmus, this is the fourth time I have been kidnapped during my career. I have built my Class on finding and hoarding valuable things — a few weeks in a tent is nothing, practically field research.”

“But—”

Kanmos sliced the air with his hand. “But nothing. The only time I got injured was when you bloody rescued me!”

“You’ve got some fire in you, old man. I like it,” Porkchop replied, chuckling.

That he did — though Kaius still felt more than a little guilty for getting the man’s throat cut during the rescue.

Still, as much as he wanted to rush after Brokenlight right now, there was one more thing he had to do.

“We leave in ten,” Kaius said. “That last battle was enough to push Drakthar to the point where I can pick another spell. If we’re going to be fighting Golds, I want to have every tool possible available to me.”

“Finally!”

“It has been a long time coming,” Ianmus agreed with a nod, before he turned to his mentor beside him. “In that case, would you like a change of robes? I’ll have to hem them with a knife, but it’ll be a far sight better than trying to traipse through the Crater in that bloodsoaked thing.”

“Please,” Kanmost replied, nearly stumbling over the words.

Kaius chuckled, before he leaned back in his chair and turned his full attention to his waiting spell selection.

Spear of Nectus:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Evocation)

Affinity: Ice

Glyph: Drakthar

1000 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn summons a massive, high-velocity spear within a short distance of the user before firing at a chosen target. Carved from Stygian Ice, prolonged contact with the spear is almost as dangerous as its impact.

…

Scouring Screamstorm:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Evocation)

Affinity: Sonic, Storm

Glyph: Drakthar

1400 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn summons a screamstorm within a moderate area, deafening enemies and damaging their internals with concussive bursts.

…

Gravewurm Strike:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Evocation)

Affinity: Venom, Death

Glyph: Drakthar

800 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn summons an ethereal gravewurm that strikes at a chosen target with venomous fangs, attacking their lifeforce and weakening them.

…

Ista’s Multitudinous Cutlery:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Evocation)

Affinity: Martial

Glyph: Drakthar

1200 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn summons a cloud of autonomous floating knives and daggers that attack a chosen target, seeking exposed vulnerabilities and gaps in defenses.

After contemplating his options, Kaius blinked away his notifications. The marquee had turned into a storm of activity while he’d been distracted. Someone had fetched pails of water from within the camp, and his team had set about cleansing themselves of the gore of battle. One of the buckets was already pink from blood.

Kanmost had dipped behind one of the room dividers set around the plush bed in the corner of the tent, changing into the robe that Ianmus had offered him. He returned a moment later, sodden, but clean the grime that had built up over his weeks of captivity. The man must have found some scissors, because his tangled bead had shorn to a tight crop. With his grey hair combed back, the steel in his grey eyes had been revealed. Ignoring the ragged hem that brushed around his ankles, Kanmost looked every bit the stubborn and resilient scholar that he must have been.

“Any good options?” Porkchop asked, using his Ghosthand to scrub at his bloody paws with a damp rag.

Kaius nodded; there had been plenty — though he had been able to comfortably set aside a couple of the spells. Screamstorm overlapped with the use case of Starfall for it to be a serious option, and, while he was plenty familiar with how effective a few dozen stab wounds could be, Multitudinous Cutlery sounded like it lacked the immediate punch he was hoping to get out of this spell.

“Two caught my eye,” Kaius said, waving at Ianmus to pass him a bucket of water. Self-cleaning enchantments would cleanse him of most of the filth that caked him, but not the blood in his hair. “Gravewurm Strike, a death and venom spell, and Spear of Nectus. I’m leaning towards the latter since I want something that can put our enemies down quickly. It’ll fire a big spear of stygian ice, though I'm not really familiar with that variant of the affinity.”

“Oh?” Ianmus said, raising his brow in surprise. “A variant form? That’s impressive. Unfortunately I’ve never heard of that one either.”

Kaius couldn’t help but agree. Even if he didn’t know the exact properties of the material, it would only be a boon. Variants were always stronger in some way — though he doubted it would be as impressive as the famed dragonfire. It was still only a second tier Skill, after all.

“I know a little,” Kanmost said, drawing Kaius’s attention. “Just from a few anthologies of powerful warriors. It’s supposed to be much denser than normal. Colder too, but that’s not really a surprise.”

That did sound rather helpful, especially for a rapid projectile.

“Hurling something big, sharp, and heavy fits your style,” Kenva said, shaking off the water from her boots before she pulled them back on. “I say go for it.”

Kaius rolled his eyes at her joke. He wasn’t that much of a brute. But, perhaps there was an element of truth to their words, as he didn’t so much as second guess as he focused on his choice. Besides, they didn’t have time to waste. They needed to follow Flowers’ trail as soon as possible. At this point, he’d need to ask Porkchop for a lift so that he could inscribe while they moved.

He picked Spear of Nectus, and fell limp in his seat — his mind carried away to a familiar office where his class guide waited.

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