Kalupsia 1: The Journey

Just keep going!

Panting, they ran.

Behind them, the howls of their hunters sounded. Hoarse screeching filled the dying evening. Across sand that looked red, the three figures cloaked in gray ran for their lives.

In front of them, the Citadel was getting ready to leave. In the red sunset, its buildings looked purple, seen blue only where they were shaded by a huge, overarching tree standing tall and strong on a land entirely its own, a city that had traveled many miles for many decades across this cursed world. Already, the anchors and bridges were being pulled back.

One last bridge remained extended towards the ground below. Home beckoned.

But they were tired. Too tired.

Go! the one furthest behind gave one last yell, and turned to face not the sanctuary that awaited them, but the nightmares that howled for their blood.

Kenneth! No! the second one turned and pulled at him. Green eyes looked anxiously at her comrade. We can make it!

The third one simply stopped, grateful for a rest, though it meant escape kept getting further away.

We don’t have the strength. If I can delay them, the Citadel might wait a while longer. Kenneth told them both.

We’re still not going to make it. The third person shook his head. We may as well all stay.

No! the girl told them both. We’re going to make it!

Kenneth looked over his companions wryly. Theirs had been years of tension and travel together. It was the last time he would see them and he knew it. Yes. He told her. You’re going to make it.

She didn’t understand. He unzipped his glove, touched her face with his bare hand.

What…?

And gave his life for hers.

Kenneth! No! She screamed as he fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.

We have to go! the other guy, the smallest of the three, shook her. Don’t waste what he just did!

They ran. One crying, one saying nothing, they ran.

She unzipped her left hand glove on the way. Give me your hand, Skia!

Skia shook his head. I’ll be fine, Sal.

I said give me your hand! Sal demanded, and grabbed it herself. She unzipped his glove and placed her bare skin in contact with his. Their hands glowed yellow for a bare moment, and then they were doubling their speed, putting more and more distance between themselves and their fallen comrade.

But they had waited too long. The hunters were catching up. The clouds of darkness already filled the entire horizon behind them. Haunting laughter and sharp hisses could be heard beneath the screeching howls. Claws gleamed even under the cover of the black smoke.

Almost there. Skia told Sal, even as a bone spike the size of his fist slammed into the sand not a foot away from him. That spike bode trouble; the hunter were within attack range.

There were people waiting for them on the bridge. Still, it remained extended. Men were raising shields and lifting spears. All they had to do was reach the bridge, and they would be safe.

But the bridge, too, was moving. The Citadel was leaving.

More spikes hit the ground around them. The hunters were hungry, and wasted no time.

Sal raised her right hand, her left still in Skia’s. Yellow light gathered in her palm.

There’s no point! Skia barked at her, and dragged her onwards. Keep going!

The light faded, even as more and more spikes fell around them and sand gave way to dry grass. Skia could see the faces of the people on the bridge now; he recognized a few.

The men were moving into formation, joining shields to form an impenetrable shell around themselves. One gap remained at the center, waiting for them.

Skia leapt for it, using all the energy Sal and Kenneth shared with him. He felt Sal leap a moment later than he did, and then, her grip went limp.

He felt her die, through her hand. He turned to her in mid-air and stared.

Sal stared back, but did not see him.

Hands seized them before they landed, and shields clashed together to block off a rain of spikes from below. The bridge was moving, and they were being drawn in to the safety of the walls. The gates slammed shut behind them.

Familiar faces was turned towards him. Familiar voices were asking questions, barking orders, saying some things.

Skia didn’t really hear them. Didn’t really care.

He just held on to Sal’s body and wept.

Phase 01: Night

Tell me what happened.

Sitting on a wooden chair facing a table behind which sat five men in uniform, Skia began his report.

Five hours ago, by the order of Crusader Arms Master Toran, Team Mark left on scheduled recon into the desert area port aft of the Citadel. Skia told the man who spoke to him, an aged veteran with a fading tan. He wore the same gray armor as Skia did, hood, cloak and all. A Crusader Knight, like Skia himself, tasked with missions down on the surface of the planet. His shoulder insignia of triple crossed swords indicated a Commander.

Your team was in full strength, in the best of conditions, correct? the next person asked.

Not quite – there were just four of us, and a fifth member was to be assigned to us upon our return – but we were well rested and well nourished. Skia replied.

This second man he replied wore black armor – not a Crusader, but a Templar, tasked with law enforcement. He had a sharp, pale face. Brown, crew-cut hair did little to hide the Templar’s headset, a headband affixed with a blue sensor glass on the left, an earpiece and a microphone stretched out in front of his mouth. The embossed crossed swords on his shoulders said he was an Arms Master; a lower rank than a Commander, but in these proceedings, of equal weight in opinion.

Continue. The third person invited. This man was also a Templar Knight, but a Commander in rank, wrinkled in face and bald. He did not wear the Templar Headset.

We found no trace of blight-spawn, nothing to indicate a recent Rising. We did, however, find traces of iron, a structure of some sort. We attempted to excavate when the Rising occurred and we ran for it. Skia told them. Captain Mark did not survive the initial Rising.

Where did this Rising take place, relative to your position? the fourth person asked. This man was still wearing his helmet, a hawk-like design over his white uniform. A Sentinel Knight, no less. They were tasked with guarding the city while the Templar enforced law and Crusaders went on missions outside the Citadel.

Directly underfoot. Skia remembered. Mark was bitten before anyone knew it was happening.

The fifth man at the table shook his head. Any idea what that structure was before you had to run?

Skia paused as he faced his questioner. This man’s uniform was a mix of blue, gray and white. He was the youngest at the table, an Alchemist in a debriefing of Knights. My guess is some sort of vehicle.

How big? the alchemist asked.

A couple of meters, maybe more. About a meter and a half in height. Skia figured.

Sounds like a car. The Alchemist frowned.

A… car? What’s that? the Sentinel next to him prodded.

A land vehicle our ancestors tried to employ on this world. Something like a metal cart that could move by itself. The Alchemist explained.

On the surface ground? the Crusader snorted. That’s suicide.

"In the ground, now. The Alchemist mused. But if there’s a way to retrieve it, we may be able to benefit from studying the ancient technology. If there’s enough left of it to study."

Words like ‘if’ and ‘maybe’ aren’t enough to risk peoples’ lives for the sake of carts that move by themselves. The Templar Arms Master stated.

"And what of the iron itself? Is that worth a team or two?" the Alchemist prompted.

It’s worth a team or two. The Templar admitted. Or six.

Skia said nothing.

What happened after the Rising? the Crusader Commander asked.

We tried to save the captain. We failed. Skia remembered. After the first minute of trying to carry him back, we realized he was already dead and that we could not afford to carry him any longer. Senior Knight Kenneth said the rites, Sal took five pinches and two, I took four and one.

May he see such a land. The Crusader Commander bowed his head briefly. Continue.

Kenneth died voluntarily, giving Veteran Knight Salista all his life force to power her escape. Sal shared that life force with me on our final dash. We used the last of it in the leap to safety. Skia said. I felt her die in mid-air.

Crusader Veteran Knight Salista was hit by a Cerberus Bone Spike directly in her left lung. The spike pierced halfway through her heart. The Templar Arms Master read the report. Already having exhausted most of her life force, she could not survive such a critical hit, nor held out long enough for any of us to aid her. Death was instant.

Skia did not reply.

Here’s the interesting part. You also were hit. The Templar continued. In the lower back, three inches left of your spine. It was a Hackler’s spike, not a Cerberus, but it did come in at an angle that pierced your kidney. However, your body rejected the spike momentarily and regenerated in less than half a minute. We also found traces of Hackler poison in multiple points across your entire body, including the right side of your face. Would you care to explain that?

I was hit various times in a short delay action during which Kenneth and Sal dragged Mark away. Skia replied.

Yet you survived. And you made it back with enough remaining life force to not only endure a Hackler spike through your kidney, but to regenerate a critical wound in less than ten seconds without so much as a scar to show for it. The Templar pressed.

That is apparent. Skia agreed.

The Templar Arms Master gave him a level look. "Junior Knight Skia of the Order of Crusaders, I’m going to speak very bluntly here. If you had that much life force remaining, and shared it amongst your comrades, all three of you may have survived. Why didn’t you?"

Skia finally looked at him directly. Templar, I tell you the truth, if I could have, I would have.

The Templar frowned. Explain.

Skia sighed. I am incapable of utilizing most of my life force actively.

The Templar stared. What are you saying? You’re unable to channel Psuche?

I can channel Psuche, whether my own or that of someone else, and I am more than capable in its use. However, about 80% of my personal life force cannot be tapped by my conscious mind. Skia replied.

So you’re saying you’re limited in the volume of Psuche you can handle?

No. I can handle vast amounts of Psuche channeled to me from other knights. It’s my own Psuche that is inaccessible. Skia explained.

Not even in an emergency like you’ve had?

Not by my direction. Skia said. It will keep me alive, heal any wounds I suffer, until it is exhausted, just like anyone else, but I cannot control most of it any more than I can control my digestive systems.

Not even to boost your own strength or speed?

Not even that.

Crusader, I find that hard to believe.

Most people do. I take it you haven’t read my records?

Not yet. The Templar admitted.

It’s all there.

Your records, the other Templar said, are an extremely interesting read, Junior Knight Skia. Given your… advantageous… position in life, quite frankly, I am amazed you haven’t achieved more than mere recon missions in the lowest rank of the Crusaders.

My adopted family has nothing to do with this. Skia said in a level tone.

Master Kyros doesn’t think so. the Templar Commander said.

Skia closed his eyes. What did he do this time?

Master Kyros is the one who insisted we hold trial instead of a common debriefing, and to hold a full inquisition on the question of your guilt.

Skia sighed. Way to go, dad.

Skia, why did you stop to read the rites over Mark? the Sentinel pressed. Rather than full ceremony you could have just brought some of his blood back, in such an emergency.

Kenneth insisted. Skia answered. I followed my superiors.

The Crusader sighed. That’s what happens when you send brothers together on missions. It can be a great benefit, sometimes, but…

The Templar Commander nodded. I read the records. Mark and Kenneth made a very good team.

Made. Already, they were spoken of in past tense.

There’s really nothing we can pin on him. The Alchemist told them. He’s not guilty.

What of the matter of his ‘handicap’? That he is supposedly unable to channel most of his Psuche? The Templar Arms Master brought up.

It’s uncommon, but not unheard of. The Alchemist said. There must be quite a few people around who are unable to access some portion of their life force actively.

"A small portion, yes. Five percent, fifteen at most. But eighty?"

There’s a first time for everything. The Alchemist shrugged. Personally, I’m more interested in that iron.

Is there proof of this… handicap? the Templar demanded.

The fact that his friends are dead is proof enough. I read his records. He’s been proving it his whole life. The Alchemist replied. Skia’s been in Mark’s Team for about three years. Do you honestly believe he would let them die if he could have done anything about it?

"I think he did try. The Crusader Commander added. The majority of his wounds came from a delaying action so his comrades could get away."

So he says. The Templar Arms Master pointed out.

Show some respect for the bonds between comrades in war. The Templar Commander grunted. Any of us would have done as much for those we’ve fought beside, those whose lives we’ve saved and who saved our lives time and time again.

I’m still inclined to extend the inquisition. The Templar Arms Master said. Even though right now it seems to me that he’s not guilty.

Fine. As for me, I’m inclined to end it right here. He’s not guilty. The Templar Commander replied.

Not guilty. The Alchemist agreed.

Not guilty. The Sentinel nodded.

The Crusader Commander stood up. Not guilty, and in recommendation for a medal. I guess we’re done here, officers. He saluted, his right fist against the open palm of his left hand. May fear keep you safe.

May anger keep you alive. They saluted in reply, a clasped fist from each of the Templar, two fingers to an eye from the Sentinel, and the inner edge of a hand against an open palm from the Alchemist. Skia responded with a similar fist against palm.

He watched them leave.

Once the room was empty except for himself, he slowly walked over to sit in the chair which was second on his left, the one previously occupied by the Templar Arms Master.

He turned to face the seat he himself had occupied.

Skia, he told the empty chair.

I find you guilty of murder.

***

As the moon was rising in the early night sky, in a green clearing at the center of the Citadel surrounded by the tallest buildings in the city, a gathering of perhaps forty met in an ancient ceremony around a crystal monument. Where good soil in almost every other plot of land on the floating city was occupied by food crops, this particular clearing held only softly glowing grass and the Heroes Monument.

Death... one man intoned. He wore the robes of a cleric, brown lined with black, belted and sashed with white.

Comes for us all. Skia whispered with the others in solemn chorus.

It was time for the rites.

The cleric held up a wand of light, displayed it for all to see. He placed his bare hand upon the crystal Monument; murmured to it so that it presented him a window of shimmering blue hanging in mid air. There was no frame; nothing carrying the sheet of pure light projected from the Monument. Using the wand, he wrote three names on it.

Crusader Knight Captain Mark Lakes. Crusader Senior Knight Kenneth Lakes. Crusader Veteran Knight Salista Leaf.

The blood of Mark Lakes flowed through his brother, Kenneth Lakes. The life of Kenneth Lakes was given unto Salista Leaf. The body of Salista Leaf will serve the purposes of the ritual for all three of them. The cleric declared.

No more was said as Salista’s body was carried in quietly, three men on either side of the open coffin. The cleric took out a black pouch. He unzipped it, displayed its contents for all to see.

Inside was soil. Clean, processed, Blight-free soil.

Skia was the first to reach out for it. He took the Trailblazer's Share, the first and therefore largest portion taken out for the occasion. Five fingers, pinching together a cluster of soil; six pinches of soil, by estimate. Six; one number more than each hand was given fingers to work with; the number of a blessing not given by nature, some said, others saying it was how the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. Six pinches of clean soil; he looked down on Sal’s body, her eyes closed by some sympathetic soul earlier that evening and sprinkled the soil over her closed eyes. May you see a land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. The cleric added to his final blessing.

He stepped away; the Trailblazer had shown the departed the way to a better land.

A land with clean soil. Free from the Blight.

A second man strode up. It was Arms Master Toran, a truly scarred man if ever there was one. He sprinkled five pinches on Sal’s feet, his fingers in a wider cluster. May you walk on a land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. The cleric added on cue.

The third man was Knight Captain Grant, a tall and almost skinny warrior who, like Mark, was a Captain under Toran’s command. An old friend of Mark and Kenneth both. He sprinkled four pinches on Sal’s heart, his fingers in a straight row. May you love the land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. The cleric intoned.

A woman took fourth place. She sprinkled three pinches over Sal’s mouth. One of Sal’s friends, presumably. Or Mark’s. Or Kenneth’s. May you eat the fruit of the land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. The cleric added.

The cleric himself took the fifth place. Kenneth and Sal used to go to sermons a lot, Skia knew. Perhaps the cleric knew them well. He sprinkled two pinches, one on each of Sal’s hands. May you work the land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. Skia said, taking the cleric’s place as was the Trailblazer’s right.

I so witness. The next nearest person, the Alchemist who had sat on the fifth seat at Skia’s trial, raised his hand. He, and the five of them who had sprinkled soil on Sal’s body finally gathered around her in even spaces, and took a pinch of soil each. They sprinkled it over her body, each according to where he or she stood. May you touch and feel a land with soil such as this.

May you live in that land. Everyone else chorused, and waved air at her, three times each in perfect unison. And may you breathe of the fresh wind of life in that land.

Then in closing, they and the five around her chorused as one; Where peace keep you safe and joy give you life. Go to your birth.

They dispersed, each to his own business. Only the five around Sal’s body remained.

Skia stood there as the cleric collapsed, weeping. The graying man who had looked the age of fifty suddenly looked the age of seventy.

Derek. The Alchemist put a hand on the cleric’s shoulder. I’ll handle the business with the tanks.

No. the cleric said. I will do it. I will bring my daughter’s body with my own hands.

His daughter?! Sal had a father who still lived? A cleric, no less?!

You did not stop me from taking the Trailblazer’s Share. Skia stared.

Sal and I, we… never spent much time together. We never will. The cleric said and turned away.

You can’t blame yourself. You were waiting for them to marry and settle down as Sentinels. The Alchemist told him. One more week. You would have had plenty of time to spend with them both. Just another week.

The cleric broke down completely at that point. Skia stared. Sal was going to marry someone and settle down with a family?

Kenneth was going to take the duties of a Templar. Toran said softly. Not a Sentinel.

Kenneth?! And Sal? They were getting married?!

Skia stared at his hand. You did not stop me from taking the Trailblazer’s Share. He whispered.

You were the closest of us all to them. The woman said. You were there at their last moments.

Close? He didn’t even know Kenneth and Sal had planned marriage and reassignment. Skia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Meanwhile, they stood at a memorial. They scribed the names of dead heroes into the Monument so they would never be forgotten. He was the Trailblazer. Skia decided it was most appropriate to cry, saying nothing as tears just trickled down his face.

Mark spoke of you. The woman told him. A friend of Mark’s, then, not Sal’s. He said he’d rather have you on his team than any other offers he’d received so far. A true hero, despite your handicap. Staying behind to buy the others time to escape to the last.

But he alone had survived.

I wish I could have bought them more time. Skia said hollowly.

A voice haunted him. Skia, if you don’t stop that and come with us, I’m coming back for you!

I know. She said.

Do you want to avenge them? Skia asked, without emotion.

How? She stared at him.

Kill me. Skia offered. I was the only one who could have done something to save them.

She gave him a flat stare. You are not the one who killed them. Killing you would not avenge them at all. It is the Blight I must strike at to attain vengeance.

As do we all. Toran added, coming to his side. Go home and rest, Skia. This is very hard for us, but especially for you. Go home and rest.

I don’t want to go home. I’d rather stay…

Yes, sir. Skia said with a limp salute. He turned and started walking.

Crys, you alright? Toran asked.

Yeah. The woman answered. I’ll be okay… in time.

She had wanted to kill him. Or at least to hurt him badly. But she would not.

Skia walked away from the clearing. He headed for the very center of the Citadel.

It was not far, the center. Less than two hundred meters away. The tallest thing in the city, the very core of the fortress was the Sky Tree itself. Around it, all the buildings that formed Kronos, Skia’s home citadel, were kept aloft. Its roots supported the foundations of the city. Its branches sheltered the people below. Its wood and its sap formed the structures and walls that made the citadel itself. Every building glowed blue, hardened Sky Sap on the outside, wood on the inside, together making walls solid enough to slam a club into without doing much more than a dent unless one used Psuche to boost his strength.

Most of the city lay around the Sky Tree. A few structures lay within its branches themselves. Skia’s home was one of them.

Master Skia. The guards at the elevator were Templar, all four of them. They knew Skia on sight. They bowed slightly as they saluted, gave him access to the elevator with nothing more than respectful acknowledgement.

Skia had long ago tried to get them to call him something other than ‘Master’ Skia, but after hearing what else they might call him, he left it alone. The rest were worse.

He stepped onto the wooden platform laid upon an open strip of bark on the Sky Tree’s trunk itself, kept into place by wheels and tracks on the trunk. Skia surrounded his finger with a shallow covering of Psuche and touched it to the bared trunk.

The Tree reacted, closing up the strip by pulling its bark back to cover it. The bark unfurled and sealed itself back up, pushing the platform upwards as it did so. Skia kept his finger on the bared trunk, so that the Tree continued to seal the spot his finger touched and sent the elevator up a few hundred meters in a single long natural reflex.

The Tree was sensitive to Psuche-touch on its bare trunk. Without the outer layer of hard wood, it felt ticklish and thus it responded reflexively. Some people thought that such elevators hurt the Tree, thus making it suffer. Skia knew it wasn’t true. He felt it, even as he touched the trunk. The Tree was just tickled.

And it didn’t mind bearing him to its branches. The Tree liked Skia.

Skia liked the Tree too.

It took him to the main platform of the Tree’s lower branches. Wood and sap had formed the blue floors in a rough circle all around the trunk. A trio of Templar lounged around there; two over a board game, the third simply pacing around looking at the city below.

They barely spared him a glance as he reached the main platform and got off the elevator. They would have been informed of his arrival. The Templar below would have seen to that.

Buzzing sounded. The Templar pacing around tapped his helm earpiece. Yes?

Muted talking sounded as Skia made his way towards the ramp heading to his home’s central hall. The call ended before he took three steps. Before he could take five, the Templar announced, Guys, prepare for combat.

One of the Templar at the game groaned. Which one is it?

Seigetsu. The pacing Templar replied.

Seig was back…? Odd. What was he doing back here at this hour?

The two at the game exchanged glances and stood up. They spread out, giving each other ample room to maneuver.

Skia shook his head, decided to step back and watch without interfering. This was going to be over in a matter of moments and everyone knew it. At least they knew enough not to try to use weapons. They were going unarmed for this one.

The elevator on the other side of the trunk reached the top.

It was empty.

Not again! one of the Templar groaned.

He was the first to hit the floor. A blur of motion erupted around the third Templar as the second went flying into the main trunk with a resounding thump and bounced off it. The third Templar stopped moving and simply fell to the ground before the second finished bouncing. They both reached the ground face down at the same time.

A figure in uniform colored a mix of black and white was already dusting his hands off, shaking his head in exasperation. "I told them to be ready."

Bully. Someone else snorted. Skia spared a brief glance that way to see a girl in black and gray uniform, leaning against the rail casually.

Seigetsu took off his helmet, revealing a fair, long face still adorned with headpiece complete with sensor glasses, a mane of short brown hair setting off eyes colored a light blue. The blue faded back to brown even as he turned to Skia. You’re back.

So are you. Skia pointed out. He turned to the girl in black and gray. And Mu.

Mu took off her helmet, shaking loose long dark red hair over blood red eyes and a grinning heart-shaped face. We have our reasons.

Seigetsu and Mu were neither Templar, Crusaders nor Sentinels. Seigetsu was a Guardian; a mix of Templar and Sentinel. Mu was a Paladin, a mix of Templar and Crusader. They, like Skia, were adopted into Kyros’ family at very young ages and raised almost as his own. Skia was told to consider them his brother and his sister.

As for Kyros’ own children by blood, Skia was explicitly told not to think of them as his sisters.

Kyros and Yume tried to control even his thoughts around here. There was little they did not control, such as… such as…

Skia paused. He couldn’t think of a single thing. Their home at the top of the Tree, known as either the Tree House or Kronos Keep, was controlled by their every whim.

A figure in pure black dropped down on the main platform just beside Skia. Where’s dad? she asked.

Templar Tower. Mu told her.

The newcomer was a smaller figure than Seigetsu and Mu, a girl about Skia’s own age. Yuki was skinny by most accounts, extremely fair to the point of being ghostly, except for her hair and eyes which were usually a deep, stark black. Those eyes closed at Mu’s news and she breathed out a soft sigh.

Kyros being at the Templar’ Tower wasn’t anything unusual. He was the High Templar, after all. And the Lord of all Kronos.

Mother’s calling you three. Yuki told them next. She’s in the Cloud Garden.

The Cloud Garden was one of the few places in all Kronos which was not covered by the Sky Tree’s leaves. Built on the tallest of the tree’s branches, it was the only place in the citadel where one could look up at the sky without some leaves and branches in the way.

The only thing hindering the full view of the sky from there would be the glass dome, if it hadn’t been cleaned recently. Cleaning it was one of Skia’s chores. It was his turn tomorrow.

That reminded him. He was going to have to get a new oilcloth, because the old one was starting to tear apart.

The dome was accessed from a hatch below. A ladder connected the Cloud Garden to the residential area of Kronos Keep in the branches below it. The four of them, however, did not go through the Keep to reach Cloud Garden; they simply leapt from branch to branch around it to get there. Mu picked up a couple of the Tree’s fruits on the way, what some people called Sky Fruit and others called White Plums. The Sky Fruits or the juice from those fruits would be sold to the Crafters or eaten at Kyros’ table later. They were allowed to keep a part of the value of the fruits they picked. Just like they were given some money for the chores they did well around the Keep. Mu kept a sharp eye out for any more ripe fruits. Today was Wednesday and it was her turn to pick fruits. Skia wasn’t due to pick fruit until Friday.

Yuki opened the hatch and went up into the Cloud Garden first, ignoring the ladder’s rungs and nimbly leaping a clean six feet into the dome. Skia followed suit, and found Yume and Phoebe already there.

Yume was Kyros’ wife, a tall lady with fine sandy yellow hair reaching all the way down to her knees, as thin as a veil and as flat as a ribbon. Clear blue eyes observed him as he landed as softly as he could so as not to disturb her sensitivities. She nodded approvingly, but sadly. Skia. Come here.

Skia went to her as instructed, glancing at Phoebe questioningly. Phoebe was looking at her mother worriedly. Her eyes were a deeper blue, her hair a more vibrant golden, but in every other aspect, she could not have been mistaken for anything but a very close relative of Yume’s. Where Yuki took after their father, Phoebe took after their mother. Even their hairstyles were similar, though Phoebe’s hair was nowhere near that thin.

Around them were pillars of vines and rows of hydroponics and flowers. A thick river of mists covered everything.

How was the Memorial? Yume asked.

Someone made a sharp intake of breath aloud behind him. Skia turned in time to see Seig cover his wince with a hand smacking his forehead. Mu shook her head, patting his shoulder consolingly. It’s not the first time you forgot.

Seig didn’t reply. Skia turned back to Yume to find her waiting patiently for an answer.

You must be so sad. Phoebe, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as patient. You were with them for so long…

Over two years. Skia nodded. Almost three.

Ever since you were twelve. Phoebe gushed. How do you feel? Are you alright? Do you want anything? We really should cheer you up.

Phoebe. Yuki rapped her sister smartly on the head. Let mom handle this, will you?

Oh. Sorry. Phoebe stepped back, covering her face with both hands, but still peering at him worriedly.

Yume, however, did not say much. How was it?

Sad. Skia said simply. People cried.

Yuki reached out and touched his face, seemed to find something on his cheek which told her a story. You cried also.

Skia suddenly realized that he hadn’t washed his face yet. It was night time, with only the light of glowing lamps to see by - on a face as tanned as his, tear trails wouldn’t be too visible, but anyone looking closely enough could notice them without much trouble. Especially someone as observant as Yuki.

Seig groaned behind him. A short impact said that Mu responded to that groan with a somewhat reproving action. A kick, most likely. Mu did that a lot.

I’m not crying any more. Skia told her.

Yume glanced at a clock nearby. It’s been about ten minutes.

Skia didn’t reply. He looked at Yume looking at him while Phoebe glanced from one to the other as if afraid of something. Yuki simply watched quietly. Skia had no idea what went on behind him, but if he knew anything about Seig and Mu, they were gesturing at each other to communicate without making any noise.

They all seemed to be waiting for something. Skia had no idea what.

Yume, though, seemed to accept that it won’t be coming. Do you remember anything special about today? she asked.

Skia thought about that. It’s one of my free days. I don’t have any chores. I don’t remember anything special. Was I supposed to go to the market with you today? Or…?

Yume sighed. Skia. It’s the first of March.

Skia frowned. Some special ceremonial day? he asked.

Yes. Yume said, but her tone said she still expected something.

Skia thought about it. What happens in March… the first week… Tree Song?

The sound of skin against skin meeting sharply behind him announced that Seig just smacked his forehead again. Mu let out a low laugh. Yuki sighed. Phoebe shook her head.

Yume stared at him and said, Skia, it’s your birthday. You’re fifteen today.

Phoebe reached out behind a vine pillar to pull out something hidden from his view.

It was a cake. On it was the number 15 and the words ‘Happy Birthday Skia’.

Yume gestured. Seig and Mu dragged over a table from the side, wood framing a glass surface. Phoebe put the cake down in the center of it.

Yuki, get the plates, forks and knife, please. Yume nodded to her daughter and pulled out a little white box wrapped with a yellow ribbon.

His birthday. He was fifteen today.

So what?

Phoebe peered at him from the side. Skia…? Cheer up. Please?

She wanted him to smile. Every time she said ‘cheer up’, it meant she wanted him to smile. So he smiled.

She smiled back and pulled out another little box, this one red wrapped with silver.

Not yet! Yume told her sharply. Yours must come later.

Taken aback, Phoebe stepped aside apprehensively as Yume handed her own box to Skia. A small, velvet one. Open it. Yume told him.

Skia opened it. Inside was a metal chain.

Metal! He stared. "You’re giving me metal?!"

How much could something like that cost? Thousands of Clira, at the least. An entire chain of silvery metal! He’d need to sell enough Sky Fruit to feed a family for whole months to get that kind of money!

Not just any metal. That’s mythril. Phoebe told him.

Skia couldn’t believe it. Forget about months’ worth of Sky Fruit. This kind of value went into the tens of thousands of Clira. His salary from the Crusaders and the little earnings he got as incentive from the chores at home for the entire year wouldn’t be enough to cover this.

Something this valuable… Skia turned to Yume.

Should never be sold. Yume told him crisply. You’re going to have an important use for it. Don’t sell it until you no longer need it, or unless you have a really desperate need. I’d rather you never sell it at all.

A gift from Yume. He was supposed to treasure it. He understood that much. So he held it close and bowed. Thank you.

Nicely done. Seig said. You’re going to have to wait a bit for Mu and I. What we got for you are related, and… well… we sort of left them in our rooms.

Mu took out a weird pair of leather bracelets and waved them in Seig’s face.

"Okay, fine, I left my gift for Skia in my room. You brought yours. But you’re not planning on giving those to him now, are you?" Seig prodded.

Yes, I am. Mu said with a smile. Skia, this is for your use. You’ll need them. Trust me.

What’s this? Skia asked. Bracelets?

"Only this one is for you to wear. Mu told him. She singled out one of them, a bracelet with a narrow band and a strange knob embedded in the top of it. The other one, she held up the second bracelet, a thicker band with a combination lock wood buckle and another lump in its center is for you to find out later. I’ll help you use it when the time comes."

Yume took one look and said, You didn’t.

Seig grinned. We did.

In the house?! Yume protested.

Why not? Seig asked.

Yume lifted her eyes to the sky and muttered a prayer under her breath.

Go get it. Hurry. Mu told Seig.

Seig normally didn’t take orders from Mu, but in this case, he just left without argument.

Just then, something on Yume’s belt buzzed. Yume pulled out her headset in compressed state; the thing was shaped like a C, and Yume put it over her left ear quite comfortably. She tapped it so that it extended a mouthpiece rod and said, Yes?

Master Kyros has returned. Someone replied. One of the Templar below, Skia knew.

Thank you. Yume smiled. She took off her Ear-C and put it back on her belt. Perfect timing.

The words were barely out of her mouth when a figure appeared beside Skia seemingly out of nowhere.

Happy birthday, Skia. Kyros told him. Kyros was a dominating man, broad and tall, with graying hair and keen black eyes. His face reminded people of a lion’s, with thick bushy eyebrows and a strong nose. A lifetime of warfare had won him a tan that even years in high office hadn’t been able to wear down.

In his hands was a frisbee.

Not again! Yume moaned.

Why not? Kyros asked.

You’ve been giving him frisbees for his birthday ever since he found that broken cart wheel and started throwing it around with the kids. Yume protested.

Well, at least I’m sure he likes them. Kyros pointed out. "More than your wooden carvings. He uses my gifts every spare chance he has. Him and the rest of the children."

The ‘rest of the children’ didn’t appear very thrilled about being called ‘children’. Seigetsu was twenty-one this year, and Mu well past twenty. Yuki herself was almost sixteen, and Phoebe would be fifteen in October. The ‘children’ had all tasted war with the Blight firsthand, whether as a Guardian, a Paladin, a Templar, a Crusader or a Cleric.

They hadn’t all played together in years. Nowadays, Skia spent his frisbee-throwing time with Sal and Kenneth.

Which reminded him. His last frisbee was gone.

I could still use that. The last one is lost. Skia told Yume.

Lost? Kyros repeated. Where?

Skia pointed to the port aft of the Citadel. Kenneth was carrying it when he died.

Everyone froze. If he hadn’t known better, Skia would have thought that even the mists decided to stop moving for a bare moment there.

No more frisbees. Yume told Kyros. It’s time to put childish ways behind him.

No more frisbees… Kyros muttered. He turned to Skia. How was the trial?

Not guilty. Skia answered. I got a recommendation for a medal.

Kyros grinned. As expected of one of my Closer Disciples. Utterly above reproach! Keep it up.

Thanks. Skia replied. He knew his voice sounded a bit hollow, and Kyros frowned when he saw Skia’s lack of enthusiasm.

Kai, Skia’s just gone through his friends’ Memorial. Yume told him, using the short form of Kyros’ name the way nobody else dared to.

Ah. Kyros stopped short, nodded sympathetically. I see. Well, then, the High Crusader and the High Sentinel are waiting for me downstairs. I’ll see you all later.

He was gone a moment later. Seigetsu popped his head in at the hatch. I just saw Master Kyros speed down in a hurry. The Crusader chief and the Sentinel chief are in the library. What’s going on?

Meeting. Yume scowled. He tried to give Skia another frisbee.

I see. Seigetsu said, but he didn’t seem to care overmuch. He leapt up through the hatch and handed a furry bundle to Skia. Here.

Skia stared at the black/gray pile of fur in his hands and said, Huh?

Then the furry pile lifted a little sharp snout and blinked gray eyes at him.

Not a furry pile. An animal of a sort. Hello. Skia greeted it.

The animal blinked at him in reply. A few inches of tail started wagging as it stood up on Skia’s two hands.

A wolfcat? Yume muttered. That fellow’s going to go after the shoes, I just know it.

It’s so CUTE! Phoebe shrieked.

The wolfcat cub tapped Skia’s palm with its feet, sniffed Skia’s hands cautiously, and twisted its head to stare at Skia quizzically.

Skia stared back and suddenly knew what Mu’s present was for.

He lifted his bracelet for the cub to see. Then he lifted the other ‘bracelet’ which was, he knew now, meant to become the cub’s collar.

The wolfcat snorted.

Skia looked at it, shared a queer sort of understanding. He knew what it wanted.

Thanks, Seig. Skia said. Thanks, Mu.

But he did not put the collar on the cub. Neither did he put on the bracelet.

Instead, he put the cub on his shoulder, and pocketed Mu’s gift.

The cub just sat there and burrowed close to his neck.

Skia… Seigetsu very seldom sounded uncertain, even in the face of a losing battle, but he sounded uncertain now. That cub… might try to run away. We’ll have a rough time finding it to catch it back if it does.

Put the collar on it. Mu suggested.

No thanks. We won’t be needing them. Skia told her. It’s thoughtful of you, but… there’s no need.

What, you’re just going to… trust it to stay with you all the time? Mu stared.

Skia thought about that. Yep.

What if it gets separated from you and people don’t know it’s yours? Mu asked.

Skia glanced at the cub, now mere inches from his eyes. That’s easy. He’ll be the only wolfcat in the whole citadel without a collar.

Mu paused. That’s true. She admitted. Nobody else is stupid enough to let a wolfcat run around without a tracking collar.

Seigetsu still looked uncertain. Skia, that’s a bio-enhanced wolfcat. Do you have any idea what it’s capable of?

Not yet. Skia said, lifting a hand to the cub to stroke it. The cub nuzzled his palm. But we’ll find out.

For starters, did you notice that its tail just got really long? Seig pressed.

It’s curled around my back to my right shoulder now, yes. Skia said.

And you didn’t notice that it used to be just a few inches long? Seig asked.

I noticed. It grew so that Xi could balance himself. Skia said.

Mu frowned. Did you just name your cub ‘Xi’?

Yes. Skia said. It fits.

It does. Mu said slowly. But why name him that? Why not ‘Shadow’ or ‘Comrade’ or any number of nice names?

His name is Xi. Skia said.

Mu sighed. As you wish.

Mu wanted to name him Shadow. Skia could hear it in her voice.

Xi snorted. Skia figured he didn’t think much of that idea.

It sounds like a girl’s name. Phoebe mentioned.

Skia shrugged. Maybe.

Come eat. Yuki told him.

Skia suddenly realized that she’d not only brought plates, forks and knives, she’d filled the entire table without him noticing. White Plums, oranges, potato chips, sweet corn and fried eggs. And the cake, of course. Quite a feast.

Yume waited until they had all gathered round the table and found seats on stools before turning to Phoebe with a nod for her to go ahead. Phoebe stood, and clasped her hands together.

Creator and Provider, we thank you for all that you give to us; for the sun and the shade, for the tree and the fruit, and for each other. Keep us pure until the day of your forgiveness. Death comes for us all.

Death comes for us all. The rest of them intoned together, and she sat down.

After a moment of silence, they handed Skia the knife, sharpened wood and leather handle. Make a wish. Yume instructed. Then cut the cake.

Skia thought about that. What would he wish for?

He didn’t know. Skia figured he may as well save it for later. Still, he closed his eyes and maintained a few moments of silence, then cut the cake into seven equal pieces. There were only seven of them, after all.

Cutting seven pieces equally was unusually difficult for anyone not accustomed to it. Kyros’ family, though, had plenty of years’ worth of practice.

Skia ate in silence as Yume, Seigetsu, Mu and Phoebe dominated the table conversation. Beside him, Yuki ate without saying a word.

In recent years, it was uncommon for as many as five of them to be able to have dinner together. It was rare to manage six.

Even so, the course of dinner hardly changed over the years. Seigetsu would talk about intellectual things, Mu would talk about recent occurrences and events, Yume would discuss with both of them about everything while Phoebe commentated and asked questions all three answered. Yuki and Skia, meanwhile, usually just ate.

The difference was, tonight, Skia fed Xi as he ate.

Xi didn’t say much over dinner either.

Kyros finally joined them as they cleared away half the dishes on the table. He handed Skia a curved piece of white wood, shaped much like a flat and broad ‘v’. Here’s something else for you to throw.

What’s this? Skia asked.

A boomerang. If you throw it with a certain technique, it will come flying back to you. Kyros told him.

Yume took one look and raised her hands in surrender. Fine. At least its not a frisbee.

Skia touched it. White wood. From the Sky Tree’s upper branches.

Very well crafted too. Seigetsu added. Nice.

There’s a particular skill to throwing boomerangs. There’s a Templar named Shamar, an Arms Master, who knows something of this skill. I’ll get him to teach you one of these days. Kyros mentioned.

Skia closed his eyes. An Arms Master. To teach me how to throw a boomerang.

Don’t mention it. Kyros said. And I meant that literally.

Skia clamped his mouth shut. Nobody else brought up the subject again.

It wasn’t until after dinner and after the table and chairs were cleared that Yume allowed Phoebe to bring out her little red box. Before she allowed Phoebe to give it to Skia, though, she insisted that Yuki take out hers at the same time.

Where Phoebe’s box was red, Yuki’s was blue. Both were tied with a silver ribbon.

Kyros cleared his throat. Skia, tonight especially is very important for all of us here.

More than the previous years? Skia asked, quietly.

Yes. You’ve come of an age where this really can’t wait any longer. Kyros said slowly. There’s something you need to know.

Skia felt it. Kyros was going to tell him why he adopted Skia into his family. A lost orphan who couldn’t even use 80% of his life force actively, adopted into the family of the most powerful man in the Citadel. ‘Why’ was just about to be revealed.

Do you remember the day we met? Kyros asked Skia.

The day my family died. Skia said, his mind going back some ten years. My home was burning. The city where I lived had been overrun by the Blight and crashed. Everything was on fire. My father was dying when you arrived.

He asked me to take care of you. Kyros reminded Skia.

A request from a total stranger is not enough reason to adopt. Seigetsu mused. You would fulfill that request merely by bringing Skia to Kronos and putting him up for adoption or early enlistment to the Sentinels for training.

From a total stranger, perhaps. Kyros agreed. But Skia’s father was not a stranger. He was an old friend.

It was coming. Skia knew it.

Your father and I had an agreement. Kyros told Skia at last. Long before you were born. One of his children will marry one of mine.

Seigetsu whistled. Skia, you were engaged before you were even born.

Not exactly. Mu corrected him. If Skia had sisters and Kyros had a son or two, that would qualify just as well. In fact, if Skia had sisters and Kyros adopted you, they might even agree to have you become Skia’s brother-in-law.

Or one of Skia’s brothers might end up with you. Seigetsu prodded.

Stop that! Yume said sharply. "This is a serious matter! Skia, do you remember that we told you to think of Seigetsu and Mu as your brother and sister, yet not to think of Yuki and Phoebe that way?"

Skia nodded. I remember.

Yume undid the ribbons on her daughters’ boxes. In each was a ring. Both were silver. Phoebe’s was flat and had a single small yellow gem in the center. Yuki’s was a delicate looking circlet of web-like mesh in a twisting design, bearing a little blue gem in the center.

Skia looked at all that metal and shook his head. Isn’t this a little bit… much?

Pay attention, Skia. Yume told him. You’re going to take both these rings and wear them on that necklace I gave you, so that they’ll be around your neck at all times. Take care of both of them to the best of your ability. One day, you would be asked to choose one of the two to wear on your finger. That day will be the day you no longer need to use the necklace.

Choose one ring. Seigetsu shook his head. Skia, she means you’re going to have to choose either Yuki or Phoebe to marry.

Skia blinked at him. Are you sure?

Seigetsu nodded firmly. Ask her yourself.

Is this true? Skia asked Yume.

Yume nodded very, very firmly.

"And I must have your promise that it will be either one or the other. Kyros added. Promise me you’ll choose one of them."

Uh… okay. Skia found himself unusually tense, unable to formulate a proper sentence for some odd reason. He knew he should and normally could say something more effective for the occasion, but somehow, his mind just seemed blank.

Why did he feel like he was fighting some serious battle all of a sudden?

Say it. Kyros ordered.

I promise. Skia found himself saying. I’ll choose one or the other.

Kyros nodded shortly and left the Garden.

Yume held out her hand. The necklace, Skia.

Skia gave her the necklace she’d given him earlier that night.

Isn’t it a bit early for this? Seigetsu was asking.

Mu paused in the act of clearing away the last of the dishes, and waited for an answer along with the rest of them.

Yume gave each of them a steady gaze, realized that not one of them would budge until she answered the question, and finally relented.

Kyros felt it best to settle this before his head got messed up by hormones. We waited as long as we dared. She told him, putting both rings into the necklace simultaneously, one at either end. She clasped them around Skia’s neck.

Xi sniffed the necklace cautiously. Skia ran a hand across his wolfcat’s uncollared neck.

Somehow, it felt like it was Skia who had been collared tonight.

Phase 02: Midnight

When the clock struck midnight and the hours ran into the early morning of the next day, Skia found himself still unable to sleep. Getting up, he touched his hand to the glow lamp at his bedside and trickled a flow of Psuche into the plant.

The plant responded, causing its bulb to glow softly. It lit the room Skia called his own.

A single shelf filled with books sat directly opposite him beside which was the locked door to the outer corridor. A desk waited on his right. The bathroom lurked on the other side of the desk, the entrance to which was flanked by his cupboard.

Xi sat up on the desk and gave him that quizzical look again, the one that had him twist his head questioningly to one side.

I can’t sleep. Skia told him.

Xi leapt nimbly onto Skia’s right shoulder, extending his tail to wrap around Skia’s left shoulder securely. He seemed to think Skia would take a walk and wanted to come along.

Which, Skia realized, was a rather good idea. He got up and pulled a fresh set of gray from his cupboard, stepping in to the bathroom to take off first his wolfcat, then his pajamas and put on the armor. Once on and awakened by his life force, the gray biosuit that was the Crusaders’ uniform fitted itself to his shape and warmed itself a bit to ward off the chill of the early morning. Xi resumed his position on Skia’s right shoulder and the biosuit cooled off a bit in that area to compensate for Xi’s added warmth. So prepared, Skia opened his room door and stepped out.

In the first hour of a new day, most decent souls would be fast asleep and content to remain that way. These were the hours in which the Templar usually found themselves somewhat busy.

Templar and troublemakers aside, there were a few exceptions that Skia knew.

Yume, for example, could be in Cloud Garden still, her attention on plants and weather through the night. Seigetsu and Mu sometimes went around at this hour, but then, they were considered Templar too, so that didn’t count. If the Citadel weren’t moving, the Crusaders would have sent out patrols even at this time.

Skia hadn’t expected to hear voices coming from the main hall below. Now that he was out on the starboard corridor looking at the lower branches beyond it, he could hear someone saying, Really, Kyros, isn’t it a rather big risk?

Only the leaders of the Citadel called Kyros by his first name. Skia figured that the High Crusader and the High Sentinel hadn’t left yet.

What say you, High Alchemist? Kyros’ voice asked.

I’m in agreement with the High Priest. A woman’s low voice said.

Skia paused. Apparently, most of the high council was in the living room.

Can we really afford to go running off on some treasure hunt when there’s rumors of the Dreadlords rising again? another man’s voice asked.

We’re running a bit low on resources as it is. This treasure hunt yielded less than we hoped. Must we really try this now? Couldn’t it wait another year? yet another woman’s voice asked.

Not ‘most’ of the High Council. If the High Crafter was present, that meant all the High Council had gathered. What other woman would be with the High Council like this?

Other than Yume herself, that is. But Yume could be busy in the Cloud Garden.

This year, the sandstorms have quieted down. There’s never been a chance as good as this for over a century. Yume’s voice said clearly.

Skia stared. Even Yume was there. He took a step downwards, but was halted by a hand on his shoulder.

A familiar hand. Skia knew it was Seig even before he turned. Seig always did that.

Mu was there too. The two were listening as much as Skia himself.

Skia stayed where he was.

We are already two days behind the rest of the Migration because of this detour. If we go on this hunt, we’ll probably lose them altogether. Are you sure you’re willing to isolate this city until we get to the southern lands? With our resources this low and the rainfall getting less and less each day? the higher voiced woman asked.

High Crafter, if we find Crystalgard, we might find a way to end the Blight completely!

And if we don’t?

Then we suffer for the sake of a brave attempt to save all mankind from the Blight.

That sounds very noble right now, but it won’t be if our Tree starts to fall.

The door was suddenly flung open. The three of them jumped as Kyros poked his head out and said, You three, what are you doing up at this hour?

Uh… Skia looked at the other two and decided to let them handle this one.

Well… Seigetsu paused.

Kyros raised an eyebrow, waiting for their response.

Skia’s fifteen now… Mu stepped forward. And we felt it appropriate to show him a few… less childish entertainments.

Kyros gave her a flat look. Did Yume put you up to this? All that ‘put behind childish ways’ stuff?

Not really. Mu replied. But she did give me the idea.

Kyros sighed. No later than two. I don’t want Skia going overboard at some club of yours on the very first visit.

Sure. Mu said, pulling Skia towards the side. I think you’re busy, so we’ll just take the trunk down.

Fine. Kyros ducked back inside.

The trunk? Skia winced. Are you sure?

Mu unzipped her glove and put her bare hand to Skia’s face, transferring about twice as Psuche into him as he would normally have been able to use. Get going.

Skia sighed, then stretched his hand out towards the railing.

When he stretched his hand, he also extended his life force, channeling it first as incorporeal force then shaping it into corporeal form, so that it became an extension of his will and his physique. His Psuche formed a rope-like body, attaching itself firmly to