The day after opening his Eye Aperture, Darian wandered through the streets of Valeheart, taking it all in. Despite living near the town his entire life, he had only been to this place a few times. Part of that was his clan's attitude. While they protected and valued mortals, they considered it improper to spend too much time mingling with them. That time could be better spent cultivating. The ultimate goal of cultivation was to reach the heavens. Too much time with mortals would hinder this.
This was also for the mortals' sake. Cultivators were much stronger than normal people, and losing control at the wrong moment could cause severe injuries, maybe even death. As such, only those judged to have enough composure and control were given leave to visit the mortal towns under Clan Wind Dance's jurisdiction. Usually, this meant those who had reached the midpoint of the Foundation Establishment stage. For places outside of Silverwood Vale, that was another matter altogether.
For someone like Darian, who supposedly had no cultivation, this didn't apply. He could come and go as he pleased, as far as the clan was concerned. Of course, since he did have cultivation now, Darian would have to be extra careful. He didn't want to hurt anyone by accident. If he was going to cause damage, it would be a deliberate choice.
Darian had made sure to wake up earlier than usual that morning, in order to avoid a repeat of what happened the last time he tried to visit Valeheart. While Zayne had left him alone ever since their last encounter on the mountain path, Darian didn't know how long that would last. It didn't help that Lucius had refused to see him, and word was bound to get back to the other members of the clan. He decided it was best to avoid tempting fate.
The day had been overcast, like yesterday, though there was no fog. The temperature, while cool, was nowhere near as cold as it had been earlier in Spring, even when the wind picked up. Darian hurried down the mountain path heading towards Valeheart. The town was located at the foot of Mt. Wind Dance, wrapping around it and spreading out from there. Most of the buildings were made of wood, though the most important buildings were made from solid stone. The town's roads had been laid out in a neat pattern, dividing it into districts. From above it somewhat resembled a wheel, with the mountain as the hub.
To Darian's eyes, it looked like a large, bustling place that teemed with humanity, the home of twenty thousand or so souls. Even at this early hour, there were many people going about their business. Soon enough, the streets would be crowded. However, from what he had overheard from visitors and some of his kin that had visited the outside world, Valeheart would be considered a large town at best. They spoke of cities that sprawled out, covering an area of dozens of miles, with populations in the millions. He almost couldn't believe it. It sounded more fantastical than the tales of Immortals moving mountains and splitting seas.
Valeheart had four districts, each one corresponding to one of the four cardinal directions: the North District, the East District, the South District, and the West District. Each district had its own specialization, for lack of a better word. His destination was the East District, the center of commerce and trade in Valeheart. This was because it was the one closest to the Silver River, which ran east of Mt. Wind Dance and flowed down from the Ice Fang Mountains to the north. Technically, Mt. Wind Dance was a part of the Ice Fangs, but there was enough distance between it and them that most people considered the two separate. There was even a settlement between Mt. Wind Dance and the Ice Fangs, albeit a rather small one.
One thing that Darian didn't like about Valeheart was the noise. It was so loud, that whenever he spent too much time in town, he began to get a headache. People chattered and laughed and shouted, their voices ringing in his ears. Animals brayed and howled and yipped. Wheels rattled on the paved stone roads as carts and wagons and carriages drove around. The air was thick with dust. At least it didn't smell too bad. There were strict regulations in place regarding trash disposal and sewage. Clan Wind Dance didn't want to deal with the effluvia of human waste when they did deign to mingle amongst mortals; so much so that they even maintained formations all throughout town to aid in this.
The mortals themselves drew much of Darian's attention, or rather their clothing did. Like Clan Wind Dance, the people here tended towards light skin and light hair, though there were some who had darker hair. Their clothing, however, was much more colorful, being both bright and vibrant. The wealthy in particular, looked quite stylish. For Clan Wind Dance, simple clothing was more than enough, usually light blue in color. The contrast was sharp. There were a few exceptions among the clan, of course. Vera was one. Darian's grandmother, Astoria Hawk Feather, was another.
As Darian walked deeper into town, he was reminded of another reason why he didn't visit Valeheart often. He drew attention. From his clothing, it was clear that Darian was a member of Clan Wind Dance. Wherever he passed, he attracted stares and left whispers in his wake. Those closest to him even bowed, paying him their respects. Darian hated it. It made him feel like an impostor.
Darian hurried on to his destination. It was a small shop that specialized in clothing for women. They didn't make their own clothing, but rather imported it. This set them apart, since the style of their clothing differed from what most people wore in Silverwood Vale. It was also of a much higher quality. Darian had heard rumors that all the shop's clothing was made by a cultivator who specialized in tailoring and dressmaking, but he wasn't sure if he believed that. For one thing, the shop mostly catered to the wealthy merchants and other influential mortals within Silverwood Vale. He couldn't imagine a cultivator lowering themselves to make clothing for mortals. Well, maybe if they wanted to, but that was still far-fetched. It was more likely that the rumor was a tactic to raise prices higher than they would have been otherwise. Regardless, the quality of their goods was superb, so it didn't matter who made them. It was enough for Darian's purposes, and well worth the price.
He entered the shop, ringing the bell that hung above the door. Racks with dresses hanging from them occupied most of the floor space. A counter that ran parallel to the far wall blocked off the last third. Behind it, a door led to the back. An elderly woman emerged from the door when the bell rang. The shopkeeper, Arabella Goodwin.
"Greetings, honored custom-…" Shopkeeper Arabella began, but stopped when she saw Darian. She bowed. "Young Master, you grace my humble shop with your presence."
It always made Darian uncomfortable when people other than his clan's servants bowed to him. He was now a cultivator, so he supposed this was his due, but it still felt strange to him. He walked up to the counter.
"Greetings, Shopkeeper Arabella," Darian said, putting on a cheerful smile. "Sorry I'm late. I meant to pick up my order when I first received your message, but I was delayed."
Most of Shopkeeper Arabella's income came from the dresses on the racks that occupied the front of the store. However, it was also possible to have a dress specially made for a higher price. Darian had decided to go with this option, since he wanted to get something special for Vera rather than a dress that just anyone could buy. A waste of money perhaps, but Darian didn't think so. Vera was important to him. She was worth the extra expense. Besides, what else was he going to spend the money on?
"There is no need to apologize, Young Master," Shopkeeper Arabella said, rising from her bow. "Our establishment is more than happy to conduct business with a member of Clan Wind Dance."
Darian's lips twitched at this, but he maintained his smile. There was no point in getting upset, even though he wanted to.
"Shall I have refreshments brought out while I retrieve your order? I had it stored away when you didn't arrive to pick it up."
Before Darian could even reply, Shopkeeper Arabella disappeared behind the back door again. A few moments later Arabella's granddaughter, Elena Goodwin, emerged from the door. She carried a tray with a glass of wine atop it, as well as a small bowl of fruit. Darian wondered if he had interrupted them while they were in the midst of their own meal, or if this was something they had prepared for certain customers. He assumed the latter. It was too early for wine. Most people drank tea, or some other non-alcoholic drink, at this time of day.
Elena was a pretty girl who was about a few years younger than Darian. She had light brown hair, warm brown eyes, and tan skin that was atypical for this part of the world. A yellow flower adorned her hair, matching the yellow dress she wore.
"We hope you accept our meager offerings, Young Master," Elena said with a smile. "And we apologize for the delay. Grandmother didn't want your order to be damaged, so she placed it in a secure location. It might take some time to retrieve it."
Darian gave the girl a reassuring smile, or what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile.
"There's no need to apologize," he said. "I can wait."
This seemed like the right answer, because Elena brightened up. The two of them fell into conversation. As Darian had found out the last time he was here, Elena was easy to talk to. She was more than willing to share news and gossip, as well as details about her family. In fact, most of what he had learned about her family, and their shop, came from her. The extent of their business, how many familial connections they had, and who some of their most frequent patrons were. Darian didn't think that sort of thing would interest him, but she had a way of making it not boring. Perhaps it was the smile she always wore on her face.
Elena was a good listener as well. Whenever he spoke, she always leaned in closer and seemed to hang onto his every word. She also liked to give him compliments, though Darian did his best to deflect these. He felt they were unearned.
They shared the fruit as they talked, though Darian didn't touch the wine. It really was too early in the day to start drinking. After a few minutes, there was a lull in their conversation.
"This dress that you ordered," Elena said, breaking the silence. "Is this for a family member?"
Darian shook his head, before eating another piece of fruit.
"No, it's for a friend of mine."
Her smile dimmed a little.
"This friend of yours. Is she married?"
"No, though there are plenty in my clan who do want to marry her."
Plenty of the male members of the clan, and a few of the female ones even, had tried to woo Vera. One by one, she turned them all down, until all but the most persistent continued to pursue her. Darian had been one of them.
"Do you?" Elena asked after a beat of silence, her smile all but gone now.
Darian thought about it a moment, before shaking his head.
"I used to. I even asked, but she turned me down."
That had been a painful moment. Last year, Darian and Vera had been in one of Clan Wind Dance's wild gardens, a patch of carefully cultivated wilderness with little to no human interference. Darian, with his usual smooth charm, just blurted everything out.
"Vera, may I have the honor of courting you?" he had all but shouted, nervousness thrumming through him.
Darian cringed just thinking about that memory.
Vera had turned away from him with a grimace, before letting out a resigned sign.
"No," she had said. "I love you as a friend and as family, Darian, but that is all. I do not love you the way a wife loves her husband."
Darian had stared at her as she said those words, his stomach sinking.
"Why not?" he had asked, feeling desperate and more than a little angry. "Is it because I'm not a cultivator?"
Vera had looked offended at that.
"No. Why would you even ask such a thing? I don't love you because I don't love you. Your cultivation, or lack thereof has nothing to do with it. Something like that wouldn't stop me." She had then poked him in the chest. "Never say anything like that to me again."
With that, she then walked out of the garden, leaving Darian all alone. Unfortunately, Darian had been one of the persistent ones. He had continued to pursue Vera for the next several weeks, until she gave him an ultimatum. Either he stopped with his nonsense, or they would no longer be friends. In the end, Darian chose friendship, though their relationship had been strained for a few months after that. Things were fine now, however.
It had been for the best, Darian thought, looking back on it now. He had been infatuated with her, still was, but not in love. Yet, a part of him still held out hope. It was like a tiny sprout. It just needed nurturing in order to grow and blossom. Though, if it never happened, Darian would be fine with it, or at least that's what he told himself. Time would tell if this was a self serving lie or not.
Darian shook himself out of his thoughts when he realized he had been silent for a while now.
"Sorry about that," he said, giving Elena an apologetic smile. "I was woolgathering. I didn't mean to ignore you."
"It's fine, Young Master," Elena said, her smile returning to its previous brightness.
Darian liked how cheerful she was, at least from what he's seen. He wondered what her secret was. They talked for a few more minutes, before Shopkeeper Arabella returned. She looked at her granddaughter, who gave a slight shake of her head. This seemed to disappoint the older woman. Darian noticed this, but wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Here you go, Young Master," Shopkeeper Arabella said, laying out the dress on the counter. "I hope this is to your satisfaction."
Darian was stunned when he saw the dress. It was a gorgeous emerald silk piece that an Immortal wouldn't be ashamed to wear. It was dazzling to the eye, intricate and delicate. Perhaps the rumors that the Goodwin family had some cultivator connections weren't just rumors after all. In fact, the dress might be too beautiful. If he gave it to Vera, would she think he was trying to court her again? He wouldn't mind, if it turned her interest towards him, but not at the cost of her friendship. He had learned his lesson in that regard.
Still, there was no point in worrying about it now. He would just have to let Vera know that this was a gift from a friend, nothing more. That said, if more came from it, he wouldn't complain.
"I am very much satisfied," Darian said. "Thank you, I appreciate this."
His words seemed to cheer up Shopkeeper Arabella.
"We only provide the best, Young Master," she said. "Though if you wish to show your appreciation, perhaps you might spread the word among your kin. As you can see, a dress like this is worthy of any immortal maiden."
"Grandmother!" Elena said, her tan face paling.
Darian saw that Shopkeeper Arabella's face fell, and realized why. Most cultivators, his kin included, would be offended at her words. Not because of the words themselves, but because she spoke out of turn, imposing on him. From the stories he had heard, cultivators had killed mortals for less. Darian, however, was not like most of his kin.
Just as Shopkeeper Arabella started to stammer out an apology, Darian held up a hand.
"It's fine," he said. "I don't mind. The dress speaks for itself. Once they see it, I know a few of my female kin who would love to know where I got it from."
He knew of two at least.
At his words, the two Goodwin women relaxed.
"In that case, let me wrap up the dress for you," Shopkeeper Arabella said.
Darian watched as she did so using thick brown paper, taking care not to crease or wrinkle the dress, before she handed it to him. He paid her the agreed upon sum, and left the shop, his spirits higher than ever.
***
Elena sighed as Young Master Darian left her family's shop. On the one hand, she was disappointed that he didn't seem to return her regard, or that he had even noticed it. She wasn't sure if this was deliberate, or if he was just that oblivious. Ancestors knew she had tried. It was kind of cute, she had to admit, if frustrating. On the other hand, there was still hope for her. She knew that a mere mortal like herself couldn't compete with an immortal maiden under most circumstances. It was clear Young Master Darian had feelings for this friend of his, but there was a chance that Elena could turn his head towards her.
It was a slim chance, but it was still a chance. Elena even had a plan to increase the odds in her favor. She just needed to hear back from her kin to the south. While the Goodwin family were all mortals, they had a tentative familial connection to the Gold Weaver Sect to the south. It was through this connection that they received most of their products, and it was through this connection that Elena was banking her future on.
She was a skilled dressmaker and tailor, for a mortal, but Elena had higher ambitions than that. One of her dreams was to become an immortal seamstress, creating clothing for cultivators and Immortals, to weave magic through needle and thread. She wanted to let the whole world know of her skill. One of her other dreams was to make Young Master Darian her husband. It had been, ever since childhood, when they first met, though he likely didn't remember that meeting.
To achieve those dreams, Elena knew that she needed to become a cultivator herself and walk the path towards immortality. She needed the Gold Weaver Sect to accept her as a disciple.
Grandmother let out a sigh of her own.
"It seems there is no hope of a match between you and Young Master Darian," she said, her disappointment obvious.
Elena didn't blame her. Marrying into Clan Wind Dance would guarantee their family's future. She had her own ambitions, but that didn't mean she would ignore her family's welfare. That wasn't why she wanted to marry Young Master Darian, but it was a benefit.
"Not yet," Elena said. "Has the Gold Weaver Sect sent word yet?"
Grandmother shook her head as she gathered the tray with the still full cup of wine and the near empty bowl of fruit.
"No, though this is unsurprising. They are very selective in who they take in as their disciples. We may never hear back from them."
Elena pursed her lips. If that was the case, perhaps it would be a better idea to take a more proactive approach. Crescent Moon City, where the Gold Weaver Sect was located, wasn't that far from Silverwood Vale.
Before she could pursue this line of thought further, however, the door to the shop opened and she went back to work.
***
As Darian walked back to Mt. Wind Dance, he grew paranoid that something would go wrong. He was in a good mood, and things had gone well for him. That was a sure sign of something bad happening in the near future. He kept an eye out for potential sources of trouble. Zayne was an obvious one, though not the only one. Trouble came in many forms, after all. Not wanting anything to happen to the dress, Darian maintained his vigilance until he almost reached the foot of Mt. Wind Dance. Only then did he allow himself to relax.
"Darian," a woman's voice called out to him.
Darian almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice, and whirled around to find the source. Standing behind him, and a little off to the side, was a woman who didn't look much older than Darian himself. She was tall and slender, with long blonde hair and amber eyes. She wore a blue gown that looked far more expensive than Darian could afford, even if he saved every bit of his monthly stipend for a year. Her features weren't what anyone would call beautiful, but they were striking, her eyes in particular. They reminded Darian of a hawk. Sharp, predatory, focused. Appropriate given her background. Astoria Hawk Feather, Darian's paternal grandmother.
Somehow he had walked past her without noticing. He hadn't even felt her aura, though he felt it now. It was stronger than his father's.
Remembering his manners, Darian bowed at the waist.
"Grandmother Astoria," he said in a respectful tone.
When he rose, he found her studying him with those sharp eyes of hers. It almost felt like her gaze could pierce through his soul. It was an uncomfortable sensation, though not an unusual one when it came to his grandmother. To him, she was a cold and distant figure. Part of that was the glacial expression she always seemed to wear. Another part was that they rarely saw each other outside of clan functions, though she did make an effort to send a gift each year for his birthday. Other than that, they had little interaction with each other.
Unlike most of his kin, it wasn't personal. His grandmother was like this with everyone, including his father, her own son. She wasn't exactly known as a social butterfly.
"Darian," his grandmother said. "I felt the need to take a stroll. Join me."
If a light descended from the heavens and proclaimed him the son of an Immortal, Darian would have been less surprised. The last time his grandmother had asked for his company…Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time something like this happened. His grandmother was always busy doing whatever it was she did. He assumed cultivating and training, in addition to her duties for the clan.
What did she want with him?
Still, Darian dared not disobey. He joined his grandmother for a stroll, as she put it. Thankfully, they were heading towards the mountain path leading up Mt. Wind Dance. Even if he had to pass by his house, he could still head to his father's and stash the dress there.
The two of them spent the first few minutes of the walk in silence. Everyone they passed bowed towards his grandmother, paying her their respects. The servants also bowed to him, though his kin ignored his presence altogether. That was fine with him. A few sneered at him, but one look from his grandmother put them in their place. That was even better.
"What business did you have with the mortals, Darian?" his grandmother asked.
Darian blinked and didn't respond right away. He pinched himself to make sure this wasn't a dream. His grandmother looked at him and raised an eyebrow at his silence.
"I was buying a present for my friend, Grandmother Astoria," Darian said. "Her name is Vera River Heart."
"Her sister was the one who married your cousin Jayson, correct? Lynda River Heart, I believe her name was."
"That is correct, Grandmother Astoria."
"Hmm. A good choice, Darian. She is beautiful and comes from an ancient lineage. Her cultivation progress is more than satisfactory as well."
Oh, this wasn't good. He needed to nip his grandmother's misunderstanding in the bud.
"I am not courting Vera, Grandmother Astoria," Darian said. "I am merely giving her a present because she is my friend. That is all."
His grandmother raised another eyebrow at him.
"You should have picked another gift then. Giving a woman you are not courting a dress could send the wrong message."
A chill ran down Darian's spine. How did she know it was a dress? Was she a mind reader? Or had she followed him to the shop?
"I saw you leave the dress seller's shop while I was flying with Holden earlier," his grandmother said. She gestured to the sky. Her spirit beast familiar, the hawk Holden, flew in the air near them.
Darian blinked at her. Maybe she was a mind reader after all. Otherwise, how did she know what he was thinking?
"No, I am not reading your mind," his grandmother said. "I am, however, adept at reading faces. Yours is like an open book. You need to work on that if you want to hide your emotions."
Darian turned away from her, his cheeks flushed, though he wasn't entirely sure why. They spent the next few minutes in silence. Darian looked to the side, and saw that they were more than halfway up Mt. Wind Dance. From this vantage point, all of Silverwood Vale south of the mountain was spread out before him. The sight left him breathless. He stopped to appreciate it.
Most of Silverwood Vale was forested, though the land around the Silver River had been cleared out for farming. From here, the river lived up to its name and looked like a shimmering silver ribbon that flowed south. A ring of tall rocky hills surrounded the vale, each one topped by a watchtower. While formations protected the entirety of Silverwood Vale from outside intrusion, his clan maintained a vigilant watch, always looking for signs of trouble. That was how they had kept Silverwood Vale as theirs for centuries. In the distance, Darian could even make out Valegate, the town that served as the entrance and exit to Silverwood Vale.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" his grandmother asked from his side.
That's when Darian realized his mistake. He should have been escorting his grandmother on her stroll, not staring at the scenery.
"I apologize, Grandmother Astoria," he said, bowing to her. "I neglected my duties."
"Don't apologize," she said, waving him off. "Not for something like this. Silverwood Vale is beautiful from above. Why do you think I spend so much time flying with Holden?"
Darian straightened out and relaxed. This turned out to be a mistake.
"I thought it was because you didn't like interacting with people," he blurted out, before clamping his mouth shut.
He should not have said that. Thankfully, his grandmother didn't take offense. Instead, she wore a strange expression on her face. It took him a moment to realize that it was amusement. He had never seen his grandmother amused before. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
"That too," Grandmother Astoria said in a wry tone. She then sobered up. "Darian, there is a reason why I sought you out."
"I am at your service, Grandmother Astoria," Darian said.
"You have been spending a lot of time with Darren lately."
Darian's nerves thrummed with anxiety when she said this. Had his clan discovered his cultivation? He should have anticipated that they would keep eyes on his father. He was the clan head's son after all.
"I am concerned. My son has requisitioned several strange and expensive alchemical reagents from the clan repository lately, and I had hoped you could tell me why." She grimaced. "I asked Darren already, but he refused to tell me, the little cretin." Despite her words, Darian noticed a little smile on her face.
So that's what she wanted, news about his father. He relaxed a little, but not too much. He had already made enough mistakes today, no need to make more. The clan hadn't discovered his cultivation. Still, he needed to be careful. At least his father and him had come up with a suitable cover story at least. It helped that it wasn't just a cover story.
"Yes, Grandmother Astoria," Darian said. "Father is working on some experiments to aid in his recovery. He's creating a number of pills and elixirs that he thinks might help his condition."
At that, his grandmother's gaze sharpened. She gave him her soul-piercing stare for a few seconds, before easing back. Darian didn't know if it was just in his mind, or if she actually had some sort of special ability. Astra had mentioned that he could have received something of the sort when he opened his Eye Aperture, though he hadn't to his disappointment. Had his grandmother? He wasn't sure.
"I see," Grandmother Astoria said, before shaking her head. "Honestly, that boy. All he has to do is wait for another decade, maybe two, and he'll recover fully. So impatient."
Darian found it amusing that his grandmother, who looked younger than her own son, called his father "boy". It was one of the quirks of growing up in a family of cultivators.
"Then again, Darren had never been one to sit idly by. He was always so full of energy when he was a child, and that hasn't changed at all. These past few decades have been difficult for him."
This piqued Darian's curiosity. While he had heard about his father's childhood from a variety of sources, he had never asked his grandmother about it. While he risked annoying her, an opportunity like this might never come again.
"What was Father like when he was younger, Grandmother Astoria?" Darian asked.
His grandmother turned away from him, facing the view of Silverwood Vale.
"Like I said, he was always energetic," she began. "Always in motion. Of course, that energy got him into all sorts of trouble." She paused for a moment as she reminisced. "I suppose that's why he advanced so quickly when cultivating the Dancing Wind technique, even faster than that friend of yours, Lucian. He was born for it. Took to it like, well, like a bird to the sky."
As she said this, Darian heard a harsh cry. He looked up just in time to see Holden dive towards his grandmother. She held out her arm, and the hawk landed on it, his powerful wings stirring up the air around her. It was difficult to tell, since he was almost always flying at a distance, but Holden was massive for a hawk. Darian guessed Holden was twice as big as most of his kind. Despite that, his grandmother had no trouble holding him up. The hawk had brown and tan coloring, though the tips of his wings were a light blue.
Holden glared at Darian with his raptor's eyes, before turning towards Grandmother Astoria. She crooned at him, and he preened under her attention. After a few moments, Holden pulled away and launched himself into the sky. His wings stirred up the air once again, before he was gone.
As the hawk flew away, Darian gazed wistfully at him. Despite his fears and nervousness about flying in general, he envied the hawk for his freedom. Last night, when Astra had shown him the universe, something in him had awakened. He wanted to soar into the sky and see the world spread out before him. A spark of wanderlust had flared to life in his heart. He wasn't sure if he could extinguish that spark, even if he wanted to.
"Darian," his grandmother said.
"Yes, Grandmother Astoria?" Darian said, pulling himself back down to earth.
"Despite our absence in your life, your grandfather and I do love you."
She looked back at him, her eyes more intense than he had ever seen them. There were depths there, depths he wasn't sure how to interpret. More than that, her words caught him off guard. While he wanted to believe her, desperately so, he couldn't. Her actions, or lack thereof, as well as the actions of the rest of the clan put lie to her words. He wasn't angry about it, not any more, just resigned and a bit sad. With a few exceptions, they had all neglected and ignored him these past few years due to the lack of his cultivation. Some, like Zayne, had even tormented him. He couldn't say that to her face, however.
"Yes, Grandmother Astoria," was all he said instead.
"Be careful," she said, carefully enunciating each word. She pierced him with her gaze again, before nodding towards the mountain path leading up. "You can go now."
Darian bowed to her and made his escape. As he walked up, towards his father's house, his grandmother's words repeated themselves in his mind.
***
Darin Wind Dance, the head of Clan Wind Dance, watched from above as his grandson Darian walked up the mountain path. As a cultivator at the Golden Core stage, he had the ability to tread on air. It wasn't as fast as using a flying sword, but it was useful for situations where he wanted to keep his presence hidden. He had followed Darian and his wife Astoria as they had walked the mountain path, and had listened in on their conversation. Of course, his wife had known he had been there the entire time. Otherwise she would have skewered him for violating her privacy like that, both figuratively and literally. She loved him, but she defended the boundaries they had agreed upon when they married with a savage ferocity. It was one of the things he loved about her.
When Darian disappeared from view, Darin walked down and joined his wife, revealing himself.
"You were right," Astoria said, unsurprised by his sudden appearance. She looked out towards Silverwood Vale. "He is a cultivator."
Darin nodded. He had noticed it as well.
"The boy needs to work on his perception," Astoria continued. "I walked at a pace no mortal could maintain, yet he never even noticed." She snorted. "You should have seen him earlier. That girl, the shopkeeper's granddaughter, all but proposed to him right then and there, and he completely missed it."
Silence fell over them as they both took in the implications of Darian cultivating. Astoria's face twisted with anger.
"We knew this was going to happen," Darin said when he noticed his wife's expression.
"Yes," she spat out. "'That woman' has finally made her move. She's going to take our grandson away from us."
Her tone told Darin exactly what she thought of that. It was a mix of anger, disgust, and sorrow. Darin didn't blame her, and he even shared some of her feelings. That didn't matter, however. If he had to do things again, knowing what he knew now, he still would have made the same choices. Astoria, however, had been against the arrangement from the start.
Her clan, Clan Hawk Feather, was even smaller than Clan Wind Dance but more communal. She had grown up in a warm and caring environment, surrounded by love on all sides. When she had found out the plan for Darian, she opposed it vehemently. To her, it was abhorrent. In the end, Darin had to use his authority as the head of Clan Wind Dance to get her to acquiesce. After that, she had distanced herself from the clan, and him, in protest as a result. They hadn't shared a bed together since.
"He was always more hers than ours," Darin said. "You know this."
Astoria whirled on him, her eyes blazing with fury. The air around them both twisted, stirred by her anger. Her intent pressed against him. It felt like talons scraping against his skin. While it didn't have any effect on him, given the difference in strength between them, it was still damned uncomfortable.
"How dare you," Astoria said. "He is our grandson, not some prized animal you can sell or trade away. Our grandson."
Darin sighed. They had been through this argument, or variations of it at least, several times before.
"Our son's life was on the line," he said, his tone hard. "I did what I had to in order to save him and his cultivation. If I had to do it all over again, knowing what I know now, I would make the same choice every time."
Astoria turned away from him again, her body radiating anger and pain.
"That doesn't make it right. You-…" She paused, and then shook her head. "No. We treated him like we would a servant. Worse, actually. At least the servants aren't harassed and tormented. You encouraged it, but I ignored it. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up hating us all when he finds out the truth, if he doesn't already."
"What should I have done?" Darin asked, his frustration bleeding through. "Let our son die? You condemn me for the choice I made, but our son is alive and recovering because of it. Take solace in that." He shook his head. "Besides, Darian benefits from this as well. There are many who would kill to be in his position."
Darin heard a cry from above. It was Holden, his wife's familiar. He looked up and saw the hawk spirit beast growing in size. Soon, Holden was larger than a house.
"I'm going out for a flight," Astoria said.
Without another word, she sprinted towards the edge of the cliff and jumped. Holden swooped in from above and caught her on his back. Together, the two of them flew off into the distance. Darin watched them go for a bit, wishing he could join them like in the old days. With some regret, he turned away. He had a clan to lead.