Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child Book 14-20.3: Scramble

Cut.

What is the essence of cutting? Yuriko pondered as she danced through the blobbies.

A few days had passed since she called Gwendith through the spell, and she wandered deeper into the mountain. The farther north east she went, the more entangled the capillary tunnels beca. They rged and split, going up and down, left and right. She followed along, always fighting the stronger blobbies that sward her.

She had thought that the things were growing stronger after absorbing her Radiant energy spillover, but once she moved a longstride in one direction, without bothering to fight, she realised that her foes strength had reset back to the initial level she first encountered them at. It was only once she walked a league deeper into the mountains that she noticed them growing slightly stronger.

She guessed that she was nearing the power source that created those things, and she was sure the blobbies weren’t a standing population. They were conjured, summoned, or birthed the mont the pustules opened and spat them out. Hmm, that was only a hunch though. But she still wasn’t sure what she’d find in the mountain’s deepest recesses.

The stiffness of the resistance continued to grow and she used the opportunity to hone the tal Phase.

Cut.

Anything? Everything?

What did she use the sword for? She barely held an actual blade in battle for years. And yet, the workings of the longsword, quite different from an arming sword or a sideblade, felt familiar in her hands, as if she’d wielded one ever since she could walk.

The blade spun in her hands, twirling around in a deadly display where every rotation cleaved flesh. As monotonous this dance was, Yuriko found herself enjoying the simplicity and repetition. Her idle mind wanted her to do more, use her sunblades, blast Radiance out, or simply drill through the earth to finally get out. Ancestors knew how long she’d spent underground over the last five years, and without the warmth of the Radiant Sun on her back…

Still, her dance did little more than incapacitate the blobbies. They lay in pieces for a little while, before they pulled themselves back together. She noticed that it did slow down the pustules, and they didn’t continue to spit out more of their spawn. She wondered if they would stop before the entire tunnel was jam-packed with them. Either way, she had to use Radiant motes to clear so space every couple of hours or so.

After a while, her strands of consciousness grew used to the fighting enough that she was able to mull over other things. Restricting herself to just the longsword, a different one than the one with the revelation, allowed her a deeper connection with a fledgeling Ennoia of Swords. It took a significant amount of Will to prevent it from rging into her Ennoia of Radiant Flying Swords, though that was the eventual end goal. As it were, the fledgeling touch was too weak to actually affect her original Ennoia. If it grew just a bit stronger, it would add to her Ennoia, a na, an adjective, or so other qualifier. That wasn’t what she wanted.

Damien’s mories were clear that the broader the Ennoia’s scope was, the stronger it would be, and the shorter its na was. Harder to advance it too, but that was just the price of power. Her current Ennoia had two adjectives to the main point, Radiant and Flying. It limited the scope of Swords, though it specialised it too. It had been the best she could go for considering the circumstances, and only now was she able to begin expanding on it. It was only in recent tis that she digested the mories regarding proper Ancient progression.

One of the keys to advancing was the quality of one’s Ennoia. There were five levels to it, corresponding with the five stages that started with Actualisation. She was in Transformation, and the next was Manifestation. Her Colligia of Radiance must advance to Reperta before she could advance.

From Ennoia to Colligia required another Ennoia to support and express the main one. From Colligia to Reperta needed the supporting Ennoia to beco a Colligia, which needed another Ennoia to support its rise, or for the original supporting Ennoia to beco more. Broader, definitely, and Yuriko though turning it into the Ennoia of Radiant Swords would suffice. Either that or turn it into the Colligia of Radiant Flying Swords, and supported by another Ennoia, which must be linked to it in one way or another. She had no idea what kind of Ennoia she could touch that was tangentially attached to Radiant Flying Swords.

Expanding the Ennoia wasn’t going to be easy, but at least she had a direction. Simply expand its touch beyond the concept of Flying Swords. Easier said than done, however. The original Ennoia was already pushing back, telling her she didn’t need to fight in lee. Her original dreams had always been to be a marksman like her Da, right? Flying swords did just that. She could kill anyone within a longstride of her, and it would continue to expand the stronger she was. Why would she even need to fight up close?

Her Will was draining too fast. Yuriko sighed and stopped her sword dancing. She pointed with her fingers at the surrounding blobbies and incinerated them with tiny Radiant beams. The mont she stopped the dance, the pull from her Ennoia to subsu the nascent one receded and she was able to relax her Will. Instinctively, she knew she depleted about half of her Will, and it would take an hour of rest or ditation to recover it. The more depleted her Will and Intent beca, the longer it took to recover. If she scraped the bottom, it would take a week to recover completely, but if she only spent a tenth, it would barely take a minute to recover.

The thing was, she had to ditate or sleep to recover. She couldn’t just pause for breath, then continue afterwards. So far, the only reliable way to spend her Intent was by using sunblades to the maximum amount she could. At least she had a new way to exercise her Will, huh.

She moved to a more secluded spot on the wall, where she dug slightly into the vein, but not deep enough to provoke a blobby rush. Then, she created her sunblades to patrol and protect her while she ditated.

As she did, her mind returned to the series of conversations she had with her lovers. Both of them told her to continue what she was doing and that they would handle the ss back in the tower. She didn’t get the entire thing and why the corpos suddenly grew hostile, but it had sothing to do with a trafficking ring? Well, whatever. Aside from the Lawbringers, she wasn’t all that worried about the corporations’ forces, and she was sure Heron and Gwendith could manoeuvre the situation to their satisfaction. Ah, but Gwendith did send ssages detailing what happened over the past few days, so she went about reviewing it while the rest of her was ditating.

____________

It had been a few days since Heron first t with the recruiter woman, Ilvara Erdmann, and every day she sent him a ssage. Not that she pestered him, no—it was more of simple greetings and platitudes of a deal she was putting together to satisfy his needs. He had given her his contact details during their first eting and she was quite tactful.

Today, Ilvara had finally ssaged him that the offer was ready and he should be satisfied. The invitation ca with a ticket and a one-ti access pass to the upper levels of Tower 5D-L3-01, on the 301st Level. Commuting there would have taken him several hours, but like Yuriko, he had purchased a vehicle. It was a rather sedate mini-van, painted light green, with tinted windows. The back was filled with supplies: food, water, as well as camping gear. The van wasn’t built to go off-road, not quickly anyway, but it could cross the wasteland.

Thanks to the access pass, he was able to take the higher roads, the ones that were nearly five hundred paces off the ground. It was a heady sensation, driving without seeing the ground and the blue of the skies visible through the windows and windshield. Yuriko was the only one of them who could fly, but Heron hoped to be able to do it too. His Ennoia of the Winds suggested he could, but he hadn’t figured out how until just recently. Reading hadn't really been his cup of tea, but he couldn’t resist the encyclopaedic knowledge that was just there in REI-space. While he could create platforms of solid air, nothing stopped him from creating wings around his body. He’d even found sothing called a wingsuit in the archives, though it wasn’t used or produced by any store in the city. The only other thing he needed to figure out was how to propel himself, and probably how to fight while his arms and legs were outstretched.

He had been ruminating on that conundrum all the way until he reached the correct tower, the correct level, and into a driveway. He had to leave the van to a valet, but he didn’t bother looking at how much the service cost. It would be expensive, but the voucher Ilvara gave him would cover the cost. From there, he followed the directions that would take him to an upscale restaurant. As he crossed the hallways, he couldn’t help but feel a bit underdressed. He had a three piece suit on him, dress shirt, slacks, and overcoat. He had a tie, but he noticed his knot was done differently than the norm here. Oh well, cultural differences. He hadn’t styled his hair with any of the goop available in the market, and left it in its unruly state. He also had a pair of black leather shoes that he polished to a gleam, though he made sure his footsteps were muffled by the winds.

Everyone else around him was dressed just as fancily, or even more. n wore vests with their suits, had cravats, short capes, or long silky scarves. So weren’t wearing long-sleeved coats at all, but had their ‘chronian arms exposed. Unlike the soldiers and hunters he encountered in the lower levels, the ‘chronian gear here was more…embellished? Gilded? So were bright silver, others were gold. So had bright gems embedded on them that served as buttons, or just as likely, holoprojectors. It was a display of wealth and opulence, and Heron knew they were only in the Blue Zone. The one above, Violet, was reserved for the fabulously wealthy and powerful.

‘I swear,’ Heron thought, ‘I will find a way that wherever we go, we will live in the lap of luxury.’ Yuriko deserved nothing less.

The 301st floor of the building was a luxury mall. Heron soon found himself in front of a restaurant called the Solemn Knight, with a sign board that had a humanoid figure clad in antique, articulated plate armour. It was more stylised than functional, and the great helm had a couple of bovine horns sticking out of them. The horns skewered chunks of at and the knight was roasting them over a bonfire. While wearing the great helm. Heron stared at the comic display, chuckled, and entered. The receptionist bowed towards him, and eyed him expectantly. Heron’s visor pinged with a request, and he sent the invitation card back.

“This way, please,” the woman said, now all smiles. Her gaze had transford into a hungrier look. Heron blinked, then chuckled softly. He was used to seeing that kind of expression, but normally it was directed at Yuriko, not him.

He was led to a private booth, and Ilvara stood up with a smile.

“Mister Muryh, thank you for seeing .”

“It’s my pleasure,” Heron said politely as he sat down.

Ilvara pushed a tablet that was already opened into a docunt before he could tuck himself in.

“I’m sure we’ll co to an accord this ti,” she said with a wide smile.

“We shall see.” Heron humd as he picked up the tablet and read the content. He whistled when he was done, and he nodded. “I would agree, but tell first, why?”

The woman across from him flashed him a smile, then said, “Why not? I’ve a good hunch. And my gut’s never betrayed .”

The smouldering look she gave him while saying that told Heron that it was more than guts, and while he was flattered, he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

His tab rang with an incoming call, and he excused himself to take it.

“Gwen?”

What his companion said drained all the pleasure he felt and ignited his guts with angry flas.