Year: 766
Cracked cobblestones echoed with children's laughter and brittle twigs snapping against each other. The weathered cottages and rickety shacks were sprawled beneath the shadow of towering walls. Beyond those walls lay danger— the kind of danger that kept the villagers' smiles nervous and their eyes watchful. The chill of the Graybarrow air nipped at their faces, but Rozeree and Daglan barely noticed.
"Yield, foul beast!" Rozeree brandished her branch-sword, jet-black hair dancing in the wind. She lunged at Daglan, whose gray eyes glinted with playful defiance.
"Never, mighty ascendent!" Daglan parried her strike. His movements were swift, but Rozeree's were relentless, driving him back with ease.
Silvas's sharp call came from the cottage, "Daglan! Rozeree! Lunchtime!"
Rozeree's shoulders stiffened, her expression darkening at the sound of her aunt's voice. She huffed, tossing her stick aside and stomping toward the small, battle-scarred home. Daglan trailed after her, his grin undimmed.
Inside, the warmth of the hearth was a welcome contrast to the brisk air. Silvas stood over a bubbling pot, carefully ladling stew into chipped bowls. Her muscular frame and black robes gave her an imposing presence, accentuated by her stern expression. "What were you playing?"
"Monsters." Rozeree barely looked at her aunt as she slumped into the chair.
"We're going to be ascendents like you and Koshu!" Daglan declared, eagerly reaching for his bowl. Rozeree shot him a vicious glare and kicked him under the table. They'd promised to keep that secret!
Silvas's spoon clattered against the pot as she spun to face them. "Where did you hear that?"
Daglan's enthusiasm faltered, "we found Koshu's journals." Rozeree froze, her eyes widening as she stared at her brother, then her aunt.
To her surprise, the hard edge in Silvas's voice eased. "I see," she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Koshu and I… we've made lots of sacrifices to keep this town safe. Those journals… they're not meant for children." She sighed, ruffling Daglan's hair. "I'll talk to him about sharing some stories, but you two need to stay out of his things."
After lunch, Rozeree and Daglan slipped back outside where Rozeree let out a deep sigh. "Thanks for covering for me."
Daglan grinned. "That's what brothers are for. One day, we'll prove ourselves and leave together."
Rozeree's gaze drifted to the towering walls that surrounded Graybarrow. "If they let us…"
Daglan sighed as he to looked up at the walls.
"You know what?" Rozeree schemed.
"What?"
"Let's go see dad."
"I don't know. They're getting ready."
"It'll be fine, come on!" Rozeree grabbed his hand, yanking him down the road.
She pressed a finger to her lips as they approached their destination. Next to the tall wall of stone, wood, and metal, the hunting party was finishing up preparations. They were dressed head to toe in armour made from living crystals. A material harder than metals, that healed as if alive.
"There he is!" Rozeree pointed toward a burly figure consulting plans atop a barrel. His dark black beard was thick and unruly, framing his face in a wild tangle of hair. His hands large and calloused, covered in scars.
"Daddy!" She shrieked gleefully, charging toward her father, stick-thin arms windmilling. "We miss you!" Koshu exhaled in weary resignation and knelt to enfold his daughter in an embrace.
"What are you two doing?" Koshu rumbled, his gravelly baritone at odds with his gentle manner.
"We want to go hunting!" Rozeree interjected, squeezing her father tight.
Koshu sighed again, his rugged features creasing into a frown. "You know I don't have time for games right now, Rozeree. In a few years I'll think about it."
"But Daddy–"
"Enough, Rozeree." Koshu said sharply. Rozeree's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes downcast as Koshu lowered her to the ground. She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly feeling small and fragile. Koshu knelt to his daughter's level. "Now I know I told you both, do not bother us as we get ready. I can't risk missing or forgetting something while playing with you."
As they stomped back from the wall, Rozeree kicked stones at stray lizards.
"We'll never get to be ascendants…"
"Of course we will! Koshu said one day, when we're ready—"
"He said that to shut us up. Grown-ups always say 'one day' when they mean 'never.' They'll never let us leave. They think we're just dumb kids."
Daglan opened his mouth as if to argue but closed it again, glancing back toward the cottage. "Maybe... we just need to prove ourselves?"
Rozeree laughed bitterly. "Prove it? To Dad? Silvas? They don't even care about me—they care about you." Her voice dropped. "Sometimes I think they wish you were their real kid instead."
"That's not true. They love you and you know it. You're just upset."
At home, Silvas awaited, her face a thunderous rage. "Bothering the hunters again?" Her eyes darted between them as she tapped her foot in the doorway.
Rozeree glared. "We just wanted to see Dad. Not like he cares anyways."
"Mind your tongue!" Silvas snapped. "I won't have you disrespecting him after everything he's done for you! You know what. Both of you, outside. Now!"
Silvas's eyes flashed with fury as she grabbed them by their shirts. Rozeree barely had time to brace before Silvas yanked them off their feet, dragging them through the house with ease. She hurled them into the backyard, sending them tumbling into the dirt. "Training. River Style. Fifty repetitions. Now!" The River style was a challenging technique that demanded both flexibility and strength. The children flowed through unnatural positions, throwing punches and kicks from awkward angles.
Rozeree's strikes faltered as she followed Silvas's commands, her frustration mounting with each barked correction. "Sloppy. Again! You think Yokai will wait for you to find your footing?"
"I'm doing my best!" Rozeree snapped, her fists trembling.
"Your best isn't enough. Daglan had this drill perfect in half the time it's taking you."
Rozeree bit her lip, fighting back tears of frustration. "Why do you care so much about what Daglan can do?!"
"Because he listens. Now do it. Again. Or we keep going until sunrise."
Rozeree's scowl deepened, but did as she was told.
Meanwhile, Daglan finished and began a series of Soaring Style exercises. His face scrunched in concentration as he moved through the forms. Despite the apparent challenge, a small smile played on his lips. Rozeree noticed how only the sound of rumbling somewhere beyond the walls seemed to break his focus.
As the sun dipped below the treeline, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, Silvas called an end to the session. The children sipped water from wooden cups while she assessed their progress with a critical eye.
"Daglan, your River and Soaring styles are great, but your Mountain Style needs a lot of work. Ground yourself more firmly. Rozeree, your Mountain and Soaring styles are progressing, but you lack the adaptability that is crucial to River style. In a real fight, rigidity can be your downfall. All in all, both of your Lechi is improving."
Daglan grinned, clearly pleased with the assessment.
Rozeree's jaw clenched, eyes smoldering with suppressed emotion.
Silvas's tone softened. "Let me see your knee, Rozeree" Rozeree stepped closer, a mix of wariness and curiosity in her eyes.
With surprising tenderness, Silvas examined her niece's knee, her touch light and careful. "The awkward angles of River Style are putting a lot of stress on you. It might be sore for a day or two." She glanced at Daglan, "fetch the jar of salve from the kitchen shelf."
Daglan nodded and hurried off. He returned moments later with the jar. Silvas applied a small amount to Rozeree's knee, her movements efficient but gentle.
"That should help. River Style is rough on the body, so try to relax. Now go prepare for dinner you two, Koshu should be back by now."
As they entered their room, Rozeree flung herself onto her cot, the worn springs creaking in protest. Her small fists clenched, knuckles white with frustration.
"I hate it here. Always training, Dad never plays with us, it's stupid! One day I'm running away for good! You'll come with me! Won't you?" Her glare softened as it met Daglan's gaze.
"Of course!" Daglan replied quickly, perching beside her. His gray eyes sparkled with excitement, his face lighting up the way it always did when he got carried away with an idea. He grabbed a piece of parchment from under his pillow. "Look! I drew us as ascendants!" He pointed to his childish but detailed drawing, gesturing to the stick figures standing on mountain tops. "Just you wait! We'll travel everywhere, see other towns, and fight all the bad guys!" He punched the air enthusiastically, mimicking the moves they'd been taught. At his words, Rozeree sat up, a smile breaking through her gloom, caught up in his enthusiasm.
For a moment, the cramped room faded away, replaced by visions of adventures that awaited them far beyond Graybarrow's walls.
The next evening Rozeree sat perched on a low stone wall, watching Daglan spar with Koshu. Her brother's strikes were clumsy but enthusiastic, each one accompanied by Koshu's patient corrections.
"What about me?" Rozeree called out, forcing lightness into her voice.
"Now, Rozeree, You need to rest that knee."
Rozeree tried to say something but could only manage a forced smile. "Fine," she mumbled, picking at a loose stone in the wall. She turned away before either of them could see the tears welling in her eyes.
As she sulked away a commotion cut through the morning air. Townsfolk shuffled about, peering toward the gates as guards labored to open them. With loud metallic groans, the huge doors slowly ground apart.
Was it traders… or collectors?
Rozeree watched as Koshu and Silvas flanked Mayor Calin while the gates creaked open. Beyond waited a sleek carriage led by a team of horses, their legs wholly replaced by shimmering constructs of metal and living crystal. Metics.
Beside her, Daglan's eyes went wide. "Could you imagine riding one of those?!"
Metics fused and regenerated like natural organs once bonded to a host body. The collectors bore similar enhancements, superhuman organs, limb replacements.
"Mayor Calin." A collector emerged from the carriage, encased head to toe in armor that shone like mercury. Crafted no doubt from the same crystals as metics and the hunter's armor.
It moved fluidly with his body like a second skin of steel. An elegant sword swung from one hip, while a pistol glinted at the other.
He eyed the townspeople disdainfully, spurred heels driving tiny furrows in the dirt. With a grimace, he spat, "I expect you have this month's tax ready to go? I would like to quit this shit hole sooner than later."
Mayor Calin drew himself up with an air of confidence despite the obvious shaking in his knees. "Indeed, sir. My men load your tribute now."
The collector's slit-pupilled eyes narrowed as he rapped his claw-tipped fingers against a steel-plated arm.
"See that they hurry." Casual malevolence edged his bored tone. "Else my men will have to… motivate them." One hand drifted toward the blade at his belt.
Just as the final bundles of food were being heaped into the wagon, Rozeree grabbed Daglan's hand and squeezed hard. Fire and ice engulfed her, she knew what was going to happen
"They're coming." She breathed.
"Rozeree? What are you talking about?"
An ominous rumbling echoed over the wastes beyond the barricades, punctuating Rozeree's strange feeling. The townspeople recognized the sound with horror, knowing all too well what approached.
Yokai. Monstrous beings that plagued the area. And not just any Yokai, Lasari. One of the most vicious breeds.
Panic erupted.
Screams and fleeing figures scattered in all directions as a primal fear took hold. The collectors' hands flew to their weapons, their movements sharp with urgency.
"Please stop! Don't harm them!" Mayor Calin threw his arms up desperately. "The people flee to safety, as should you! Yokai approach!"
"Yokai?" One asked, obviously amused by the unfamiliar term.
"Shut up and listen to the man!" Another screamed as the rumbling swelled into cacophonous footsteps.
It was too late.
The nightmare was upon them. A herd of lasari came barreling through the open gates.
Their grossly long human legs supported snake-like torsos, with powerful human arms swinging above tiny, useless limbs that jutted limply from their hips. Flicking tongues sampled the air as they paused, inclining their gnarled heads in rasping sounds akin to laughter. Their faces were the most terrifying– skin sucked inward over empty eyes and dominated by jagged beaks crammed with teeth and oozing drool.
Daglan and Rozeree froze like frightened prey. Rozeree's heart hammered wildly in her ears. She had never been this close during a yokai attack before. Her mind screamed to run but her body refused to respond. Beside her, Daglan seemed just as paralyzed, his face pale as parchment.
In a blink.
The lasari struck.
Daglan's ears were filled with snapping bones, punctuated with cries of horror. All around him, lasari shredded through armor, their victims' screams pressing against his skull like a vice.
Daglan barely registered Koshu moving before he wrenched a lasari off its prey, twisting faster than Daglan could follow. Its misshapen skull detonated against Silvas's knuckles, erupting in a hot geyser across the townsfolk.
Daglan couldn't move. His breath locked in his throat as creatures ripped men apart, their severed limbs and entrails painting the ground in red.
Koshu's eyes burned with a primal urgency as he seized them by their shirts. "Why the fuck do you still stand there?! Get your asses moving!"
Fueled by his urgent command, feeling returned to Daglan's wooden limbs. Still clutching each other's hands, they fled from the bloodbath. Just as another gore-soaked lasari turned its eyeless skull towards them.
Instinct overrode reason.
Daglan flung himself around his sister.
The lasari's claws sliced through the air.
For a moment Daglan couldn't tell what had just happened.
Pain.
A white-hot agony exploded across his back that stole his breath. He felt the raw, gaping wound where his back had been whole just moments ago. The air caused a sickening, unnatural chill to slice through the fire of his wound. His body screamed against it, his nerves misfiring in confusion, trying to make sense of something that should never be felt.
Then the pain surged, and his vision blurred at the edges. The world spun with each wave of searing pain. His breath came in desperate gasps, his vision a chaotic swirl of shadows and red.
A deafening, primal roar split the air, shaking the ground beneath him.
The Lasari's claws hovered above them, dripping with blood, ready to strike. But just as it lunged forward, a blur of motion shot from the shadows—a figure of rage and violence. Koshu's enraged form collided with the creature, his fists a blur of destruction, crushing bones and rupturing insides
Through the chaos, Rozeree caught sight of a new figure emerging from the collector's carriage. He moved with a peculiar ease amidst the blood and battle. A man in an impeccably tailored suit, dark hair slicked back. His mismatched eyes scanned the battlefield, briefly locking with hers. In that instant, everything else seemed to fall away—the screams, the blood, the Lasari's violence. The man's gaze lingered, flickering with something—recognition? Amusement? She couldn't tell, but something in his expression sent a chill through her.
Daglan's agonized screams and Koshu's burly arms snapped Rozeree back, feeling her feet leave the ground. Koshu sprinted them away from the bloodbath in a blur of motion.
"Stay with me, Daglan! Focus on my voice!"
The world blurred past as Koshu carried them inside a cottage, setting Daglan down on his stomach. Koshu vainly tried stemming the scarlet flow with scraps of his tunic. But the blood seeped relentlessly through the meager fabric.
Koshu gripped his son's face between calloused palms. "Look at me, Daglan!"
Rozeree collapsed beside them, clutching her brother's limp hand with both of hers. "You can't die!" she pleaded between heaving sobs, her body shaking. "You promised we'd see the world! We were going to be heroes together! You can't die!" She didn't care that she sounded like a little kid anymore—she just wanted her brother to be okay.
Daglan managed a faint, reassuring smile for her before his eyes rolled back and the light dimmed around him. Rozeree's heart dropped to her gut as that familiar warmth faded from his face and she exploded into tears. Rozeree barely registered Koshu bolting from the room—her focus on Daglan, hands clutching his.
"Please dont die… please… Who's gonna travel with me… Daglan…" Rozeree sat speaking fervent promises of future adventures like prayers. Pleading for his soul to remain tethered just a little longer.
At last Koshu returned, arms laden with bundles of bandages and salves. Shoving Rozeree aside in his urgency, he expertly cleaned Daglan's ravaged flesh, tightly winding cloth over wounds. Koshu secured the last bandage, staunching the bleeding from Daglan's failing body.
Daglan's breaths seemed less shallow, but he remained hovering at death's door.
"I'm so sorry," Rozeree choked, wiping her runny nose with her sleeve. "I wasn't strong enough…"
In response, Daglan weakly squeezed Rozeree's small hand. Though no words passed his colorless lips, his eyes held a flicker of life. In that moment, something hardened inside Rozeree—a cold, crystalline resolve forming in the pit of her stomach. Never again would someone bleed for her weakness.