Weight of Worlds

Dovar crouched underneath the cover of an uprooted tree. The ancient wood had been thick around as he was tall, large enough for all three of them to hide behind it. Forest surrounding them was filled with these old type growths. The height of buildings, many of them with faint tinges of mana lingering on them, the trees had stood for centuries defying both nature and the many, many training exercises students of the academy had done in them over the years.

The understory vegetation was wild and thick despite the winter, many places reaching up to Pashar’s shoulder. Animals that should’ve been abounding were almost entirely non-existent. The only sign of life was the flittering of an owl swooshing past the branches, their near-perfectly silent flight whispering past.

Amalia sat with her back against the trunk of the fallen oak, eyes closed. Her hair was matted to her forehead in a chill sweat as she focused her tether-sense beyond the forest. Dovar was currently crouched by the roots, keeping an eye out for any dangers, whether animal or tethered, Pashar doing a similar job near the canopy.

His eyes flicked over the distant pillars. Like violet fires roaring high into the sky. The shadows passing through lend them a flickering cast. Amalia’s tether-sense began coiling back and Dovar checked one last time, but nothing had changed much. A boulder crashed into the distance, the impact dulled by the loam and snow of the forest.

Returning Amalia’s position, he observed as she withdrew into herself. He’d never seen anyone cast their tether-sense out like her. She claimed it was like what Ranvir did when he ‘Gazed the Lines,’ a technique too advanced for Dovar. Hers was more focused and longer-ranged and took longer to recover from.

Pashar joined them moments later, crouching next to the vast bark-covered giant. With her spirit drawn in so tightly, she gave off an almost claustrophobic sense. Dovar felt much the same, having repeated her trick.

They were the only scouts sent out who knew Ranvir. Pashar and Dovar had smoke and air typings, which were both ‘quiet’ in terms of detection, almost as easy to hide as space. Amalia had shadow and water mana which was harder to place for Dovar, especially since the only two users were Kasos and her. Both were incredibly proficient and therefore difficult to determine the nature of their mana.

They’d agreed early to bodyguard Amalia, so she could do the actual scouting with her tether-sense.

Dovar gazed around the purple cast forest. Tinted snow covered bare branches and leafy greens. Whether the forest’s resistance to the winter’s cold must have come from long exposure to the many tethered who trained in it. A furrow had been dragged through the forest from one of Ranvir’s attack, judging by the sand. Their current hiding place had been destabilized by the impact.

The old oak’s resting place was not a rare sight in the forest. Both Saleema and Ranvir’s attacks missed as often as they hit. Even when they were on target, the collateral often did more damage to nature than either of them. You could pick out the site of Ranvir’s barrage on Saleema from the city. A patch of bare land hundreds of feet across.

“What are you thinking about?” Pashar asked.

Dovar frowned into the night. “The price of having people like this.” He gestured towards the pillars. “The cost on nature.”

Pashar’s eyes followed the groove Ranvir’s attack had carved into the forest. “This is nothing. Have you been to the front lines?”

Dovar nodded. “When I was a child, we visited for a while.”

“Those armies, when they have to move. Even if it’s just ten miles, they strip the land bare and leave nothing but churned mud and overturned soil. With supply lines, they still scare off every animal and clear every berry and fruit.

“The only reason Ranvir and Saleema are doing as much damage as they are is because of their enduring nature. If they’d had any other typing and Concept, Saleema would’ve probably already won.” She finished with a pained face.

Dovar winced, but voicing his disagreement wouldn’t have helped. Instead, he just nodded in sympathy.

“It’s my fault, in a way.” Pashar had drawn into herself, the confident demeanor withering, like water steaming away on a heating pan. She looked as vulnerable as when they fought Dhaakir and she’d been burned half to death.

Dovar gazed at Amalia, but she was still sorting out her spirit. There were no one else around. “How so?” his voice sounded awful and pinched. Too reluctant and nervous. He shouldn’t have spoken up at all.

“I had an opportunity back in Minul’s summer estate. The Queen was talking with Saleema, sending her down a path that would eventually lead her to drive Ranvir into Korfyi.”

What is making her admit these things? And why me, of all people? I’m just a boy to her. I can’t help her with her guilt. Dovar glanced away, into the dark night light by the fires of Saleema’s fury. Her tyranny outlined in every shadow, each flickering cast of darkness, the rolling spill of shining from the skies and through the trees. The abandoned and lost sensation of the woods.

“I’m a failure of a brother. After our parent’s death, I abandoned my sister and our place in life.” His eyes met Pashar’s, his heart hammering in his chest. “I can’t make it up to her, but I’ll try. Because that’s what Ranvir taught me to do. Keep going. If I have even a tenth of his enduring nature, then my sister will lead a good life, as she was promised.”

“You were still a kid when your parents died, Dovar. You lost everyone, too. It’s hardly your fault.”

“And you’re not responsible for the Queen, nor Saleema. Even if you could’ve stopped them. She was taken with Ranvir from the first moment she noticed him.”

Pashar shook her head, but said nothing. Still, her demeanor seemed a little stronger. Dovar didn’t have Ranvir’s ability to instill strength into the spirit and iron into the spine, but he could approach his skill.

They waited in silence for another couple of minutes before Amalia began straightening. She groaned with the effort of rising, stiff from being seated immobile for so long.

“What did you sense?” Dovar asked, hope coming through in his tone.

Amalia shook her head. “It’s tough to say. He’s difficult to make sense of. He’s fighting well beyond his capacity, his soul is straining and breaking. I’d say he’s already lost.”

Dovar’s stomach plummeted into the cold ground below them, freezing into a solid lump. Amalia must’ve seen his face-pale, even in the dark night, and raised a hand. “Yet, there are kernels of something. I’d like some time to discuss it with Kasos, but… It’s like the fight is beating the impurities out of him. The slag is being taken off, revealing the true core of his soul.”

“What does that mean?” Pashar asked. Dovar nodded thankfully at her, his throat too dry to speak.

“I don’t know. If he can survive long enough, if he can survive the damage it will take, then…” she shook her head. “There’s a chance.”

“He can win?” Dovar’s words were a croak.

“Minor chance.”

He grinned.

“And I don’t know what it’ll do to him.” Amalia warned. “Let’s go back. I’ve stayed here too long as it is.”

“Why didn’t you return to Elpir in the first place?” Pashar asked as they began making their way. This close to the fight, none of them wanted to use their power.

Amalia was silent for a long time, fiddling with something on her belt. A metal rod. It felt odd to Dovar’s senses the few times he caught it. Almost alive. “Ranvir entrusted me with a task. Until I can see it through, I can’t leave.”

A little pit gnawed at Dovar. “What task?” he asked, annoyance seeping through his words. He glared down at the rod on her belt. What could she do that he couldn’t? Other than her tether-sense, she wasn’t that impressive.

Amalia gave him a strange look and opened her mouth-

The forest went dark.

Dovar stumbled to a halt. The darkness was overwhelming, crawling in from every angle, sneaking across his spine, and breathing down the back of his neck. “What-” he asked, his spirit uncoiling.

“Stop!” Pashar hissed, slamming a hand over his mouth.

Light flared purple in the distance. Amalia hissed a breath through her teeth. “One scout just got taken out. What do we do now?”

“Run for the city or hide?”

“We’re too far to run,” Dovar said. “If she can sense movement like Ranvir can, then she might detect simple movements, let alone our spirits.”

“We hide here then,” Pashar said, her cool demeanor fully reinserted. In the dark, Dovar could vaguely make out a calm expression on her face. Gazing at shadows then sighing, he nodded.

In the middle of the night, in a forest not ten miles off the academy grounds, the three of them sat down to wait out Saleema’s presence.

Near to the trio, in a cave revealed by a different fallen tree, Ranvir sat submerged in his soul. Within himself, he put hands on an oval shape, wrapped in chains and shielded in layers of containment. For nearly a year, he’d been projecting his intent and will into the being underneath the egg.