When the sun sets and darkness blankets the Wailing Chain, an almost magical transformation takes place. The moonlight and starlight cast an enchanting glow over the landscape, making it a truly captivating sight.
Bathed under this brilliant radiance from the specks of light, Osias's lithe body rested against his roughly fashioned chair.
He was plastered in wounds so grim it seemed unsettling how serene and unconcerned he looked as if his wounds calmed him rather than inflicted him pain.
His eyes wandered, and his mind pondered again and again.
'I want to help elder brother. Whatever he plans… because I don't know what else to do.'
When Osias came to this conclusion, the sky was bathed in this brilliant luminesce.
That's right, his brother. What can Osias do to help his brother?
That was the only goal that surfaced from the blend of many emotions… in the present, Osias is nothing but a weak burden.
…Night befell their camp as the hours passed, and as he sat in silence, Kiran was busy with his arrangements.
Calm, and indomitable, Kiran turned taciturn as he worked, having hung his dark rough-spun cloak atop thick branches outside of camp earlier.
Kiran's upper half laid bare, and the small glimmering campfire revealed their shared past, woven into their very skin.
He too had the same tattoos. The brothers had similar patterns traced all over.
The style was of course the same, as Garm wielded the needles for both brothers.
They both had the same ominous clouds of The Red Sky against their left rib that stretched to their hip along with a blend of other markings.
Scars are traced practically everywhere on Kirans's body, but the tattoos mask them slightly.
Such scars could only mean that the wounds were naturally healed. Not being privy to a Path Finder who can heal, or being one themselves. But if he could recall, most among their Path didn't have scars unless they sustained them before the First Ordeal…
Kiran was portioning the last of their rations. The outpost was practically barren, so it was already surprising enough to feed them their first night. It seems that starting tomorrow they'll sustain themselves with other means.
As Kiran stoked the small fire to make Osias's meal slightly more appetizing, Osias finally broke his long silence and responded:
"I can undergo my First Ordeal, brother. I can get my own Blood Mend, so we won't have to risk revealing ourselves to a healer. I'll heal myself. Then we can hide back in the outpost again for a while. They may or may not know of our survival, but if we don't bother anyone and hide ourselves, will we be found?" Osias suggested, but he was still unsure of his answer.
"Out of the question. It's too early. You will die trying, but on the off chance you live, your Ordeal Ability will be weak. Do not rush your Ordeal for momentary power. I need you to be strong." Kiran replied, before adding:
"We will always be one mistake from exposing ourselves if we remain. Besides, what happens when the Tailed Brothers return to expanding south? If I'm forced to fight, our Path and our blood essence will be revealed."
Kiran paused once more, then continued:
"But you're not wrong. To have you healed requires to expose ourselves. Fortunately, any healer would do, so we'll take a gamble." Kiran continued, pouring the contents of the small pot into an improvised bowl.
Walking over to Osias, he continued, "Osias, we have few advantages. For one, our paths can only be sensed by the scarce, but powerful Third Ordeal Path Finders. However, that is only possible under some conditions. Another is that our enemies should not know the details of the escape, none of the Crested got hold of anyone in the band — in a way, the deaths of the entire band will help us."
Kiran spoke coldly, seemingly already past the deaths of his family and everyone else.
"Think again, Osias. They will ponder over how many, who, and where. Their search spans the entire southern region with the fall of the band." He said placing the bowl into the cusps of Osias's hands.
"Careful, I left it atop the fire too long."
"Mm."
Then, Kiran tapped Osias's forearm and pointed to his torso. "They also do not know of our tattoos."
"How do the tattoos help, brother?" Osias asked between breaths as he blew air into his food.
"They know of the flaw of our Blood Path. We cannot regain lost essence without taking from another."
Osias was a little confused as he pondered what his brother was trying to say, "Sorry brother, I don't understand..."
But Kiran didn't respond, he walked away to retrieve his cloak leaving an odd silence broken by the crackles of the fire.
The brother's conversation felt awkward at times, especially when there wasn't anything to distract them. After all, there was quite a disparity in their ages. He was only on his Thirteenth Moon…
But most importantly, Kiran was only present in Osias's life before he could even form thoughts.
Once Kiran underwent his First Ordeal, Osias sparsely saw him again after that. Each time Kiran appeared before Osias and their parents, all Osias could notice was how drastically different he looked each time.
Then Kiran underwent his Second Ordeal, eventually never showing his face again. However the same could be likened to Osias and the amount of time he spent within the dark chamber…
But it was still years since the last Osias saw him before he was dragged away from the band days ago.
What was his brother doing all that time?
Where did he go?
Why did he leave?
Who was his brother was as a... person.
'Ah... this is hard.' Osias thought.
Following the tense silence, Kiran slowly packed their belongings. The soft clink of metal broke the stillness as he secured their gear, his gaze briefly scanning the darkened surroundings. After inspecting his spear with a practiced hand, Kiran finally responded:
"We will pick up the pace tomorrow. We will make it to a village on the outskirts of one of The Tailed Brothers' border mountains. One of the many points of conflict between the Band and the Tailed Brothers."
Osias, still disappointed Kiran didn't continue on his point about their tattoos, kept listening.
"They have to consolidate their forces in the South and stabilize their immense gain of land from our Band's fall. I don't know if the Three Factions will return to their feuds and battle amongst themselves, but it is likely." Kiran said, draping the once dirtied roughspun cloak over his body.
"So the Crested and the North Wind Union are already returning to their territory?" Osias asked, thinking ahead.
"Mm, their feuds are not so easily settled. Without an adversary like our Band, those scoundrels are mired in an unending conflict, striking at each other's shadows." Kiran spat out.
The forestry surrounding the duo seemed to echo his sentiments, the rustling leaves whispered with the cold wind. Even the Ordinary creatures fell silent as if reveling in reverence to something dangerous.
'Fighting and killing. They're all caught in a struggle, squabbling over crumbs — while the Outer Valleys surround them. What more can you expect of the lot…' Kiran darkly murmured to himself.
The thickets surrounding this small encampment of the brothers suddenly seemed to grow even darker that night, his elder brother's hulking form silhouetted against the flickering light of their small, but dying campfire.
Turning to him, Kiran said in a low voice, "Sleep, Osias. We'll continue tomorrow."
"Mm."
—
"Osias, our abundance in essence will make our bodies progressively stronger. Our bones, muscles, and organs are strengthened as our bodies continuously break through our essence limits. Slowly, with more essence in our reservoir, the more it'll passively seep in. This is our Blood Path, Osias. Now think of how we can use this to our advantage as we make our way North."
'His point from yesterday?' Osias wondered. Though he already knew this, this was something instilled among all the youth. He saw no connection, but there had to be one.
But Osias quickly noticed Kiran's last remark, 'Wait, North?'
Shocked, Osias tried turning his head to talk with Kiran, "North? To the Tailed Brothers' lands? Or the Land of the Crest?"
Reaching behind his head, Kiran nudged Osias to keep him from overextending his neck and replied, "No. We are headed for the Northern Wind Union — the far North. No matter how long it will take. There is no place we can survive if we remain within the domain of the Tailed Brothers nor the Crested."
"It'll depend on what emerges from our travels, but I believe the Union would accept even people like us at that time." Kiran continued with a sly sneer.
But a troubling thought arose in Kiran, 'If we even make it to their lands...' but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
Fully rested from a full night, the pair moves on towards the recluse inland border…
The Wailing Chain is a vast cordillera, Garm who traveled most of his youth used to call it 'a chain of chains of mountain ranges'. It extends more than nine thousand miles from the southernmost to the northernmost mountain. And this is only the 'inlands' of the Wailing Chain, that housed people.
These two furthest points were connected on the Red Sky's incomplete map as if a Path Finder drew a blade from their right hip and slashed upwards to their left.
Between these two points held tens of thousands of individual peaks resulting in the monstrously vast mountain range, each ranging from small risings to mountain peaks that pierce into the heavens themselves.
…The expansive valleys below and between the many peaks contained the bulk of the people residing in this turbulent land, the factions of powerful Path Finders claim the peaks for their own and expand below and then to other peaks. Millions upon millions called these lands their home.
And the claims on this mountain range were disproportionately split between four factions.
The South, The Tailed Brothers.
The North, The Northern Wind Union.
Pincered between the two, The Band of the Crest.
Yet, there exist many small factions spread thinly across and within the three centers of power.
From bandit clans, rouge mercenary bands, reclusive clans, outlawed and banished members of the Three Factions, criminal factions, swordsmen families, and many more.
Some were independent, but most were under the Three Factions — vassals of the greater power.
The Red Sky was once one of these small independent powers, a nomadic mercenary band that rose to prominence with the emergence of a Fourth Ordeal Path Finder. It must've been more than a century ago if Kiran recalled correctly.
It's been said that the first of the band underwent the most bloodshed and that today's battles are nothing in comparison… of course before they all died.
It was still hard to swallow, even for Kiran…
The mountains that were previously claimed under the Red Sky were on the southernmost border of the entire Wailing Chain, forcibly usurped by the Band of the Red Sky from the Tailed Brothers, and were further expanded upon through conquering the Outer Valleys.
A once powerful force of thousands of Blood Path Finders, headed by a mystifying patriarch with unknown powers was a dire threat. The Tailed Brothers who once pincered the Band of the Crest along with the union in the North found themselves at risk of a two-headed battle for once.
As he recalled their brief history, Kiran found himself lamenting the decisions made by the elders and the Garm, sighing heavily at the outcome.
…But even so, who could have thought that the dread emanating from a band of blood fiends would lead to the Three Factions setting aside their feud and joining arms? Even the Northern Wind Union crossed over vast lands to aid in their demise.
But that was a trifling matter, they needed to reach for the first border first — they themselves could not brazenly cross over such distances freely as the alliance had done so.
Taking into account the distance, need for rests, terrain, and pace, he estimates the time it'll take to reach the border between the Land of the Crest and the Tailed Brothers will be a month. That is if they traveled in and out of the Outer Valleys...
The large pockets of land people have made into their own constantly expand. Factions take from others, but they also conquer unclaimed peaks and valleys amongst the vast weaves of land outside of their territories. All this unclaimed land was simply deemed the Outer Valleys.
Land outside and unpopulated by their own.
And these Outer Valleys surround all occupied land.
'The Band was too engrossed in the conflicts North. Had we expanded into the Outer Valleys...' Kiran mused.
Records, maps, and knowledge are all obscured and kept hidden among the Three Factions.
As for the lesser factions, little is known about them, even the prominent ones. Even the Red Sky was an unknown faction until a few generations prior.
Despite being bordered by the Tailed Brothers to their North and nothing but Outer Valleys to their South, the Red Sky possessed pitiful amounts of knowledge regarding the Outer Valleys. All of which came from the experiences of the band's early days with the elders and Garm in their youth. And even then, Kiran didn't know if Garm taught him all they knew.
Suddenly he heard a muffled cough from behind him, where Osias was fastened against his back
'The essence in Osias's body has subsided. His natural recovery is already leagues above an Ordinary and is only going to continue improving as his essence limits are constantly being strained and broken through, albeit slowly.' He mused to himself.
Balling his hand into a fist, he frowned, 'But, natural recovery has limits, and an Ordinary is still a mortal. He can't heal those ruptures scattered over his legs. His health will only decline as the days pass.'
'Anything could happen, but at least before we attempt to cross the Tailed Brother's borders I will get him healed. Anything after that will be decided when it comes.' He determined, before asking out loud:
"Osias, how are your wounds? This will be the last place we can rest freely."
"I'm fine. It'll be better the faster we move, right? I'm fine." Osias assured curtly.
"...Very well,"
Emerging from the forestry with Osias in tow, Kiran sets his sights on the mountain he needs to cross. This one mountain was the furthest extent the Red Sky reached with their expansion northward before the bloodshed against the Tailed Brothers escalated.
The mountain posed no difficulty, it was previously one of the many frontier mountains of the Red Sky. It was desolate…
But Kiran was troubled with what lay beyond this frontier.
Beyond this mountain laid the Outer Valleys.
Untrekked land.
Untouched from the boots of Path Finders and warriors.
Meager amounts of knowledge of the land beyond...
Kiran held a complicated look on his face.
'Fools. The lot of them. Decrepit and senile fools. The Wailing Chain was ours to claim, yet they threw it all away. Those deplorable elders...' Kiran mused with disdain as he peered towards the mountain before him and the misty expanse beyond it.