The Path of Ascension Chapter 213

Chapter 213

 

Seasaìdh MacMhunna walked down the hall with all the other scions of the noble families and tried to repress her exuberance.

She had fought for this opportunity amongst the peers of her lineage and had come out on top after all of the tests and challenges. They didn’t look just for combat prowess when selecting the candidates, though that was certainly part of it. Puzzle and problem-solving skills, personality, athleticism, test scores, and a dozen other things she couldn’t quite claim to understand were all evaluated as part of the process.

But now it was here, and she could hardly wait.

The Founder’s Armory was an ancient creation, from the early days of the Clans themselves, and had been the handiwork of the Founder’s firstborn and one of her race’s progenitors.

It was a place of legends, and the birthplace of countless more. Every year, the best dwarven children from across the entire realm- or close enough, anyway- were allowed entry into the armory, where they were presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

Even the halls they walked through on their way to the Armory itself were magnificent, far grander than her Clan leaders’ descriptions had led her to believe. He said they were grand and impressive, conjuring thoughts of gems and precious metals, but how wrong she was.

The halls were seemingly simple affairs of stone, metal, and wood, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. Materials blended together so seamlessly, she couldn’t quite tell where the stone turned into wood until it was already blending into the metal further down the hall.

And that was only the backdrop.

On the walls, a little higher than head height, were the murals.

She recognized each from her history lessons.

The first was the story of The Founder giving life to the Dwarves.

The Second Sun was also pictured, repairing their central star by replacing it with his personal forge after a battle during the Shattering had destroyed the first one.

Another depicted Vercatus single-handedly holding back an army of indistinct enemies while missing an arm, then the next mural pictured him again, forging his Goldhand from the grandest natural treasures.

The next showed Regula sacrificing herself to take down a dragon who had tried to burn a city.

On and on, her ancestors were represented in the murals, and she was astounded at their proud legacy.

The legacy of a people who forged themselves out of common metals and into something greater.

Seasaìdh had always known Dwarves were special, but today was the first day that she truly felt it.

Felt it in her metal bones.

When the older woman leading them through the twisting halls reached a recess in the wall where a room tucked away, Seasaìdh almost walked right past the entrance in her trance.

At the slight clearing of a throat, she came to herself, and while trying to hide her blushing, rushed into the room with the other heirs.

Once everyone was sitting down, the old woman spoke.

“Good evening, children. You have proven yourselves, the five hundred best of your peers from across the Clans this year, standing unmoving before all your compatriots. The grandest fighters, the cleverest scholars, the most dedicated to your studies. You have all distinguished yourselves, and that is worthy of celebration.” Pausing, she started looking around the room with a small smile that implied everyone she was looking at was special in some way.

Then, the woman turned, and an image appeared, projected on the fall wall.

“You may call me the Curator. It is both my title and position. A position I have earned through blood, sweat, and tears, and a position I have held for centuries. I have seen many of your parents, grandparents, and beyond walk through these doors, and I have no doubt that I shall someday see your children and grandchildren pass through my care.

“Now, I’m certain that all of you can’t wait for me to shut up and let you get on with this most exciting day of your lives, but I made your great-great grandparents wait while this old woman had her fun, and now it’s your turn. The Founder’s Armory is open to you today and today alone, the greatest treasure passed down from the Founder’s firstborn himself. Each weapon within is a masterwork unlike any the Realm has seen since. Some compare them to Growth items, but the Artifacts within are far more than a mere riftcraft could ever hope to be. No, these Artifacts are partners, not tools. They grow alongside you, yes, and should you be chosen, should you prove worthy, you will be Awoken and bonded to the Artifact. Your Talents will grow to complement your Artifact, even as it grows to complement you.”

“Now, I speak of you being chosen. It is not I who will choose the wielder for each Artifact, but the Artifact themselves. They cannot be negotiated with, nor bargained for. Their bond is absolute and forever, their judgment final, and they are very, very picky with their choices. It has been twelve hundred years since the last time an Inheritor has been chosen, though we usually expect one every seven hundred to a thousand years. If you are not chosen, if no Artifact deems you worthy, then you shall simply be awakened at the end of the day.”

“For you have a single day within the Armory, and during that time, you may do as you see fit with any of the weapons within, save to harm one another. The Artifacts do not approve of such things, nor do I, and to raise a blade against one of your fellow candidates is to be instantly removed from the Armory. I will be watching, and I will see.”

“Now, should you be chosen as an Inheritor, should an Artifact deem you worthy, the Mountains shall pour out upon you. Your strength will in time be second only to the Grand Knights themselves, and you shall forever have the strength to defend your ancestral halls, your home, and your nation. For it is a boon to be chosen, and your power shall be manifold.”

There was more, but Seasaìdh started to glaze over, seeing the projected image behind the Curator.

She wasn’t particularly drawn to the items inside, but rather the hall itself.

It was majestic.

Seasaìdh wanted to inspect the pillars that seemed to stretch up to the sky. She wanted to check her reflection in the almost mirror-like floor.

It seemed to take an eternity, but when she at last entered the Armory, she nearly fell to her knees.

Being inside was an experience she would never forget, though she was certain she wouldn’t be chosen. Luck was never on her side, and even that wouldn’t be enough for her here.

While the others rushed and started picking up weapons or pieces of armor, she just wandered, paying more attention to the tables than to the items on them.

The craftsmanship was beyond her vocabulary, so she didn’t even try to put words to her feelings.

When she was miles away from the entrance, she started paying attention to some of the items in the Founders Armory; they were also important items, and she wanted to see what made them special.

Seasaìdh quickly learned that not all the Artifacts were equal.

Each was treated with reverence, and each had its own place, but the weapons and places were far from equal. A rusty saber sat upon a velvet cushion, propped up like it was the most valuable thing in the room, while a golden axe studded with gems sat haphazardly upon a plain stone table next to it. A spear with a haft of ice balanced precariously upon its point, resting in a matching divot on the floor, while a plain longsword in a scabbard hung from a simple coat hanger.

It was all fastidiously clean, though there were a few places here and there where an Artifact had obviously been removed sometime in the past. A blade-sized hole in a stone, an amulet-shaped divot in a silk chest, a mannequin with nothing on it.

Checking her watch, Seasaìdh sighed as she realized she only had fourteen hours left. She wanted to spend the rest of her life here.

She wandered for another hour before she started to come down from her high and decided to lay down next to a glass case containing a jeweled scepter. The way it reflected the light was pretty, and she wanted to enjoy it for a moment.

Before she knew what was going on, she was already asleep.

If she had been awake, she might have seen The Curator and two others hovering just feet behind her. One was a tall human man, an oddity in many ways, while the other a confused-seeming dwarf woman.

“Curator, you said she was going to bind, but I don’t see it. She’s just walking around, which is different from the others, but she doesn’t seem drawn to anything,” the dwarf asked.

The man merely smirked as the Curator answered, “Saint-Heir Aoife, I have been doing this for close to sixty thousand years. I know one who will bind. She wanders without a path, but she is not lost. There are millions of items here, but she keeps walking. She could pause at any time but she does not. Her Artifact is calling her.”

It had been many, many long years since Aoife had first been in the Founder’s Armory, but it had never fully left her memory. What exactly the powerful artifacts within its walls were looking for was a matter of furious debate.

‘Worthiness’ of some metric was a common rumor, but the Custodian believed- and Aoife was inclined to trust- that perhaps the single most important factor was a compatible latent Talent, though just how much an Artifact could change a Talent was wholly unknown. Just as Ascension inexplicably improved the strength and Talents of those Awakened in its wake, so too were Artifact-bonded Talents substantially stronger than their peers. Though at the cost of usually being entirely focused upon their Artifact.

There were no Talents which merely provided Innate [Fire Manipulation]. Instead it would be the ability to use [Fire Manipulation] while bearing their staff, but with double the potency of normal [Fire Manipulation]. Those Inheritors nearly always developed their Domain around their Artifact, and when combined with the resources the Clan showered upon them, there were very, very few who could be said to be anything less than excellent.

Normally, only the Saint themselves was permitted entry to the Armory, but with just a few short centuries before his Ascension and her coronation, Hastor had invited Aoife to join him when the Custodian claimed a new Inheritor was to join their ranks. Her superior hadn’t said a word the entire time, but she had caught him looking longingly at some of the swords on display.

So, Aoife waited silently until the girl woke up.

These hallowed halls were impressive, and she understood the girl’s fascination. They truly were some of the grandest under all the mountains.

Seasaìdh woke up after only an hour and kept meandering around, but Aoife noted that the Curator was correct. The girl always moved in a specific direction, even if she thought it was simply wandering.

Seasaìdh frowned as she noticed a morningstar with a thick layer of dust on its handle. Clearly, the Curator wasn’t doing her job if a weapon was so dirty.

The weapon was rather ordinary, a simple leather wrapped metal shaft bearing a ball of steel covered in spikes.

She went to wipe the dust off, but as the dust came off, so too did the weapon’s steel, revealing underneath a burning star. Then, like dust, the metal shuddered and fell off, replaced by the burning radiance of the star that had just been born.

Seasaìdh was locked in a trance as the weapon bound itself to her, Awakening both the dwarf girl and its own power.

Above the girl, Aoife was stunned. That weapon had not had dust on it before the girl got close. She knew for a fact. When she first entered the Founders Armory, she had inspected every inch of it and every weapon inside of it.

That morningstar hadn’t had dust on it, until it suddenly did.

Even she hadn’t caught the transition.

Looking to the Curator, the Tier 49 saw the woman’s smile. There was a trace of smugness, but Aoife could admit the woman earned it. The Curator had been correct even when she herself doubted. Hastor positively beamed, and the human stepped forward to study the resplendent weapon, taking in its majesty while being completely unseen by its Inheritor.

Aoife finally broke herself out of her amazement with a snort. “It’s a little on the nose, isn’t it? A morningstar being made from the core of a star?”

The Curator just shrugged. “Perhaps. I sometimes wonder if the Artifacts change themselves to be more compatible with their Chosen, just as they change those they choose. The Founder and The Smith are beyond my comprehension.”

Aoife turned to follow as the Curator teleported the girl out. The work of the Talented were always weird, but while beautiful, this place was odd, to say the least.

A living armory filled with weapons that chose their owners from the unawakened.

Frankly, her ancestors could have made things easier for her. But then, if Artifacts were simple, one of the many attempts to create more would have succeeded by now, and the armory would not be slowly getting emptier over the millenia.

Being able to produce Elites was never easy, by its very nature. The Inheritors of Artifacts were at least a marginally steady source of elite warriors, and they at least were set apart at awakening, meaning they could focus substantially more resources on them, without wasting time on candidates who ultimately fell short.

In another room, Seasaìdh slowly recovered from her stupor, and the reality of her situation began to set in.

She had been chosen.

It was beyond her wildest dreams, and she sat in a stupor for what felt like hours before she properly realized where she was.

A Talent scanner.

Armed with her new weapon, she waded into the pool of not-water and let its findings form themselves upon the reflective surface of the scrying pool

Tier 1 Talent determined.

Primary effect: Light and Fire spells are 50% stronger when channeled through Stjolna

Secondary effect: Stjolna’s Light and Fire enchantments are 50% stronger

Tertiary effect: Light and Fire spells are 25% weaker when not channeled through Stjolna

Quaternary effect: Light and Fire enchantments from sources other than Stjolna are 25% less weaker

Stjolna. That was the name of her Artifact. Her companion.

The Realm would have to make way for the two of them from now on.

***

Kelsey Tur swallowed as she looked up at the Headmaster of Barstock Academy. The man was impeccably dressed as he looked down at the students seated below him.

“My name is Leonard, and you are the newest students of Barstock Academy. That means you are better than your peers. We take the best of the unawakened nobles and craft you into the perfect ruler. We will teach you how to fight. We will teach you how to learn. We will teach you how to lead. As the offspring of nobility, you have a great burden. Even if you don’t inherit your parents’ fiefs, you will be expected to be an example of your noble lineage. Succeed, and opportunities will be opened to you. If you keep succeeding, the entire Empire will open to you. Many of our top graduates are among the strongest in the entire Empire, second only to those rare few Ascenders. Fail, and you will still be far better-equipped than any of your peers.”

At the murmur that ran through the crowd, Headmaster Leonard glared at them. “That is two demerits for all of you. Remaining quiet when being spoken to is a matter of simple manners. For those of you who didn’t speak, you should have silenced your neighbors.”

Kelsey grit her teeth. Two demerits meant more work in the coming weeks, and she was sure she would be earning more from the idiots around her.

Before she could complain more, Headmaster Leonard continued. “Now, if you feel under your chair, you should find a packet of information. It is not your own. Your first mission is to find your correct packet. You all have five minutes.”

Just as everyone was about to explode, he added, “Oh, yes. For every time someone speaks out loud, everyone gets one demerit.”

As if to punctuate his words, the massive clock behind him chimed its warning of the new hour.

Kelsey and everyone else earned seven demerits trying to finish their tasks in the short time they were given, but thankfully, people listened when a boy stood up and gestured for them to get into two lines where they could walk past each other quickly.

It was a good idea, and she wished she had stood out first, as he earned an approving nod from a woman next to Headmaster Leonard in the teachers area.

Being noticed was a good thing.

If not for the idiots among them who exclaimed when they found their packets, they would have made out perfectly.

Kelsey sat down with everyone else as Headmaster Leonard resumed his place at the podium. “Acceptable, but not perfect. You will learn. Of that, I am sure. If you open your packets to the first page, you will find your room assignment. That is the one place where you will not be tested. Be warned and informed. Everything outside the door frame of your quarters can and will be a test, but inside your room, you will never find a test or an instructor unless our AI reports you are in danger. That is your single place of solitude.” For the first time, Headmaster Leonard smiled. “I recommend you not spend too much time there. Safety is a trap, and tests as much as danger.”

Kelsey had already memorized her information when her eye was caught by a slight change in the weave of the paper.

She’d always had something of a knack for noticing things, and that served her well here. She split her attention between listening to Headmaster Leonard explaining more of the rules and inspecting her paper, trying to figure out what it said. By turning it and angling it correctly, Kelsey found a second message on the paper. ‘At midnight, come to the Albatross quad. By the third bush, you will find the next hint revealed by the moonlight – The Circle.’

Seeing that, Kelsey thought hard. Everyone was meant to be in their rooms by ten at night, and being caught outside was risking far worse than demerits, but like the Headmaster said, everything was a test. From what she knew, The Circle was a group of advanced students who acted like a shadow student council.

If she could join them, she would be able to secure herself an even better position in the school.

While they didn’t publicize their members, The Circle was rumored to never have had a member not make it to a Tier 15 academy.

Kelsey wanted to be even better than that. To do so, she needed their resources.

She just needed to plan everything perfectly so as to not get caught.

Risk and reward.

As they walked through the halls, she noted all the wards and security measures. They were surprisingly lax, which she supposed made sense. This school was a test, after all.

That night, when she was supposed to be asleep, she slunk out of her room and stalked down the halls, covering her face with one of her shirts.

Not exactly a foolproof measure to conceal her identity, but the best she could do on short notice.

It turned out to be a good choice, because she saw three others sneaking through the halls in different directions.

She wasn’t the only one to see a hidden test, but each seemed different enough that no one was on her path to the quads.

Right before midnight, she was hidden inside the shadow of a bush when she saw it.

In a topiary of a man holding an orb, she found a thin panel of what she thought was glass, but seeing the liquid dripping off the leaves, learned it was ice.

As the clock struck midnight and the moon shone through it, she found a second message written in the shadows spread across the grass field.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

‘Right, left, right, left, back, back, forward, forward.’

Seeing nothing else, Kelsey furrowed her brows. But hearing steps behind her, she ran into the nearby hedge maze.

Following the pattern, she found herself not in the center, but a dead end.

As panic started to set in, she saw a root that seemed slightly different than the others.

Throwing caution to the wind, she bent down and pulled it— and almost cried out as the ground dropped out from under her feet.

Landing on her butt, she looked up to see the sliver of sky disappear as the trap door shut.

Then, as if on command, the room lit up with torches.

Standing around her in a Circle were six people with dark robes and masks covering the top of their faces.

“Kelsey Tur. We, The Circle, invite you into our hidden society. The strongest weapons are the ones you don’t show. Mystery and our minds are our strongest weapons. Would you like to make them yours?”

Kelsey stood up and brushed her dirt covered hands on her outer coat before looking around the circle of people.

Having gathered herself, she calmly answered.

She didn’t have to think about it after all.

The answer was obvious.

“Yes.”

***

Serhan Tasci sat in the classroom and poured over the fragile pages of parchment.

Not that they were old, despite trying to appear ancient.

They were forgeries made for this exercise; the ink still had a smell that gave the game away. If they were as old as they appeared, they wouldn’t have such a metallic scent.

Serhan was in the middle of his Tier 15 practical exam in one of the Republic’s best academies.

He didn’t even know exactly which academy he was testing for, but the initial Tier 15 academies numbered only a dozen. All of them were good, and if he graduated from any of them he would qualify for admittance into Evermore Academy, the highest of education.

If he failed to discover the answer to which school’s test he was taking, his academic career would end here, like ninety five percent of his schoolmates.

The weeding out of students, first as they Tiered up, then through decades of academic rigor, was how the Republic found the best of the best to nurture.

The academies were a comprehensive learning environment, and anyone who made it as far as he did was considered truly elite. Any company or political movement would salivate at the thought of roping his classmates in, but Serhan had bigger dreams.

He wanted to graduate from Evermore. Even qualifying for Evermore was sufficient to have one’s career prospects set for life, but once a millennium, someone would graduate and become a living legend.

The Everborn. Stronger, smarter, better. Only Gladiators could be considered their peers or superiors, and there was only one Gladiator Maya. To be Everborn was to be a national hero, beloved by all and given everything they ever needed or wanted.

And Serhan wanted.

He studied harder than his classmates, practiced when they goofed off, challenged himself when they accepted mediocrity.

Serhan’s Talent made every one of his skills more powerful, and had set him apart ever since he first Awakened. The resources he earned through his academies had only pushed him further ahead of his peers.

That was the point, after all.

Round after round of culling the students meant those who kept improving would be able to move to higher Tier academies, where the training got better with more, higher Tier resources.

He just needed to figure out this test.

It took him nearly a week and three false starts, but he eventually found a permutation cipher hidden in the whitespace of the document, and after running it through a translator to convert it into Republic standard, he got his message.

A simple date and time set for three years from when he got the task and a name. Blue Stone Academy.

He had his ticket and knew his destination.

Or, at least the name.

The Tier 15 academies weren’t public in their locations. Even their names were little more than rumors, but he had at least heard of Blue Stone Academy. If said rumors were correct, he was accepted into the third ranked academy of this bracket.

Not as good as he wished, but better than he hoped.