When Yuriko arrived home from the wall, her younger brother Rami was sitting fitfully on the living room couch. He looked up at her as soon as she walked past the foyer and leapt to his feet.
"Big Sis!" he yelled as he wrung his hands fitfully. "Is it true, are we under attack?"
Yuriko smiled tiredly, her mind still reeling from her expenditure of Will. She opened her arms and beckoned him to hug, and he leapt into her embrace.
"Don't worry, Rami, we'll keep you safe."
"I'm not worried about me! I'm worried about you!" he protested even as he nuzzled her shoulder. Was he crying? She could feel damp spots on her dress.
"Why are you worried about me?" Yuriko asked with a smile. "I'm a Knight and I can take care of myself."
He pulled back and stared up at her. "You're the one fighting," he said resentfully, "and I can't even help you."
"Oh…it's alright, Rami." Yuriko rubbed his back. "Marron is with me, and I'm strong."
"I know," he said softly. "I made dinner…with big sis Ryoko…"
Her attendant had been standing quietly by the kitchen doorway, and she could feel Saki just outside. Ryoko gave her a low bow and said, "Rami's made some noodle soup."
"I see. Thank you." Yuriko patted her brother's hair and let him go. He clung to her for a moment then, sniffled and led her to the kitchen dining table.
"What happened?" he asked.
"The federation…the Haveenians and the Kadracki, are preparing to besiege the town," Yuriko said. "You…and the others, either stay in the school building or the temple."
"What about home?" Rami asked.
"It's…well, it should be safe here. Unless the federation army breaks through the western side wall," Yuriko said. "Pay attention to the alarm and signals. Head towards the temple if that happens."
"What about you?"
"Me?" Yuriko gave a fierce smile. "I'll beat them back, even if they break through."
"Oh."
Dinner was mostly silent. Gwendith and Desire weren't here at her home, and neither were her older brothers. Her bound Chaos Lord and her friend were at the barracks or performing their duties. As for her…she needed to rest and meditate.
A Sorcerous Implement. Spellweaver Merill, Eilis, said that one should have formed within her Anima, and it would make shaping and casting spells faster and easier. She was somewhat eager to find out more, however, she remembered Damien telling her that Sorcery was merely mimicry. The walkers of the Ancient's Way were shapers of Chaos, too, and they were far more powerful than the strongest Sorcerer in the myriad planes.
She retreated to her room and settled into a seated meditation pose, then sunk herself into envisioning her Anima.
…What was that?
There was a…rod? No, a blade.
A single-edged blade that didn't even have a crossguard or a hilt. The weapon's tang even had etchings along its length. It hung near her core, reflecting the Radiant light and spreading it around. It rotated slowly, too, and there were golden threads entangled along its length. It also had a rather unfinished look, even beyond the missing handle. There were parts of the blade that looked red hot, while other bits were a dull grey. Runescript lines were etched along its entire length, the words several points larger than those on the tang.
Radiant energy glimmered around the thing but didn't touch it. That felt wrong to Yuriko's senses, and the threads…where did they lead to?
Your Ancestor. Damien whispered. She implanted the seed within you.
'When?' Yuriko gasped.
Erm…when you visited the Fateweaver Loom.
'Huh…I…don't remember that,' Yuriko frowned. Didn't she go there just before she left Realmheart? Huh, wha…what happened then?
'Damien?'
…we spoke. The man dwelling in her mind sighed. We caught up with each other. Now his tone had turned wistful.
Yuriko felt sweat beading on her back. Catching up? But then…did that mean, no it definitely meant that they knew each other.
"What did you…no, I mean, how did you meet my Ancestor?"
You brought us there, what do you mean? Damien asked dryly.
'I meant how did you meet my Ancestor before!' Yuriko yelped.
Hmmm, I don't quite recall. Damien said stiffly.
Yuriko's eyes narrowed, 'Were the two of you…?'
Oh, definitely.
Yuriko's shudder shook her entire self, body and Anima, and she had to suppress the need to puke. Hopefully, any memories of that would never resurface and transfer over. She hastily scrubbed her mind and focused on the blade.
'What's wrong with this?' she mused.
The golden threads entangled the weapon, and even the shape of it was uncomfortable. While she was a swordswoman, the one within her Anima just struck her as wrong. She made to grab at it, but sparks licked at her fingertips and repelled her.
"What?!" she exclaimed in fury. This was her Anima! How dare this thing repel her! Gritting her teeth, she shoved her hand towards the implement, and even as more and more sparks burned her metaphorical hand, she pushed on. Her Anima bent to her Will, and nothing would change that!
As her hand clasped the tang, she felt the wrongness clearly.
The Sorcerous Implement…was a tool of control. Not just of a Sorcerous Working, but also of the Sorceress. She could feel the threads leading away into the dreamscape, fading away in the distance. She could feel it connected with someone, her Ancestor, she presumed.
So. Not only was the Empire bent on gaining control of its Knights, but her Ancestor wanted to control Sorcerers, too.
"The Blade of Conviction," a voice resounded.
It was at once familiar and strange, as though she'd heard it whispering to her ear for years. She was sure she'd only heard it once before though. Back in Realmheart.
"Show me the depths of your Conviction and if I find you wanting, then this blade will cut you instead of being at your call…"
She felt her envisioning stir, and she could feel the edges of the dreamscape intruding into her Anima. She could see the Chaos begin to shift. Into visions similar to what she encountered in the World Trials. Not those…not again.
NO!
With a convulsive squeeze, she, and the entirety of her Anima, pressed down upon it. Cracks grew from the pace-long blade, and with a ting! it shattered.
The fragments dissolved in her Anima, but she didn't want them to remain. They consisted of foreign substances, and who knew if they would taint anything else within her.
She is the progenitor of your bloodline. Damien reminded her, A part of her will always be with you.
'So? Should I stop this then?'
No, not at all, but there's no need to throw it away. Don't you have a handy source of heat roaring within you? Take the fragments and forge them into a true Implement of your Will.
'Oh. That's a good idea.'
Of course it is. I came up with it. These Sorcerous Implements… well, the idea of such had percolated within the Council's minds before. The weakness of Chaos Shaping had always been the time it took to do so. Much easier to channel your Ennoia, to cut with the blade, or to send hardened Animus as an attack rather than forcefully shape reality to our Will. Ah, but then again, Shaping Battle was only done when either the scale was too large, or it was a battle of Concepts.
Damien rambled on. Yuriko shook her head. The terms he used…she could understand each word, but put them all together and without proper context and he might as well have been speaking Ikash instead of Verdanian.
Her Essence and Core burned brightly, and she brought the fragments close. She pushed them against her Core, though she was careful not to actually let the fragments touch. She drew Radiant energy from the Essence and pulled some from the air outside, too. She ignited the Chaos particles, careful to keep full control of them, then transitioned them into her Anima.
That, more than anything else, caused a reaction. The shards–silvery, gold, and green–melted into a puddle. Smoke rose from it, which she took to be the impurities and the taint. She expelled those and kept the smaller puddle within.
But now it was too small. What did she want to do anyway? What spell or working did she need? Radiant lance. Powerful enough to melt those cannons and can be fired from a great distance.
She had always wanted to be a marksman like her Da, but her skills and power took a different path. But still, the ability to strike at extreme range while keeping her prowess in melee was more than valuable. And her Sorcery, her Shaping, should compensate for her shortcomings.
What she needed was a singular attack that was powerful enough to punch through any defence, and the ability to strike at range.
Her stopgap measures, flinging pebbles or ball bearings with her Animakinesis, weren't quite as efficient as she wanted. If she just threw things without imbuing them with her Animus, then it would be stopped by the merest Animus shielding. Even if she invested her Animus within it, the fact that hers had not been condensed meant that against foes of equal measure, she would be lacking…
But then again, weren't the only ones who condensed Animus Imperials?
No, that couldn't be right. The advantages were too much to give up. After all, she could condense her own Animus too, just that those who followed the Imperial Path always had them condensed to the fullest. It was a matter of time and efficiency, she figured. Anyway, she went off tangent there with her thoughts.
The puddle was now completely golden in colour, the same shade as her hair and Animus. What was it made of anyway? Oh. Animus. It was her own power after all. What were the silver and green parts then?
No matter, they were gone. If the puddle had been made of her Animus, then more would surely increase its size. Of course, she would have to condense it.
She took several hundred lumens from her outer reserves and squeezed them together. She could divide her focus over a dozen times already, and she used it to keep the pressure even and stable. Slowly, the Animus ball that had been the size of her bed compressed into one the size of her fist. But she could still push. She didn't know how long it took, but she only managed to compress it another inch or so.
Then, she joined it with the already molten puddle.
Oh! The density wasn't the same. Her orb was just a tiny bit weaker. Gritting her teeth, she mixed it all up and sought to compress them to the previous standard. She was pretty sure it was well past midnight by the time she succeeded, and she was also sure that she couldn't stop now.
Her thoughts and emotions returned to the state they had been when she first Shaped her spell. The fury she felt, the desperation. The ignited Radiant energy. All of that was necessary, but it only strained her heart and mind.
Radiant lance. Strong enough to hold the Radiant Sun's power. It was a bolt she could fling towards distant foes, and it would pierce through whatever protections her foe had.
The molten gold spun and pulled until she had a spearhaft in front of her. At one end, the shaft tapered to a sharp point, while at the base, a blunt cap formed. Runescript weaving materialised along every inch of the spear, words she didn't really know the meaning of. At least, not at the point of conception.
Knowledge flowed from deep within her mind, from Damien. And as the words appeared, she read them and marvelled. Every single line was a set of instructions on how to form her Radiant burst. And even more, the runescript instructed the energy to create an actual, physical weapon. A spear, of course, an exact replica of what she created now. She didn't need to throw it either. All she needed to do, was point it in the right direction, and cause the cap at the base to shatter. The resulting burst of energy would propel the lance to its target, and from them, the same power that had melted that steam cannon would burst.
And how long would it take to use this? Several minutes, currently.
Yuriko shook her head. That was still too long, but quite an order of magnitude better than her initial effort which had taken hours. Better still, she just needed to familiarise herself and practice with it to form it faster.
She smiled as the first rays of the dawn's light shone through her windows. The golden spear, her Radiant Lance, was ready within her Anima. And it would be the weapon that she'd use, along with Fri'Avgi and her sunblades, of course, to bring her foes to their knees.