Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 39: Blade and Hand

“I normally do the cooking.” The old lady said as she casually walked into the camp. “But it’s Academy policy to teach those on expeditions basic survival skills. You see?”

That makes sense. Leif thought as one by one every pair of eyes around the cooking fire turned to him. Suddenly he was very conscious of the fact he was carrying a basket full of clothing.

“Is it overcooked?” the elderly woman asked. “Are we all going to get food poisoning? Again?”

The group looked between her and the laundry carrying spriggan.

“Lady Melissa!” A bald man exclaimed as he stood, hastily unsheathing his sword. “Intruder in the camp! Drive it off!”

Leif saw Marcus and Sieg get to their feet in the back of the group. “Coordinator Johan.” The elderly lady, Melissa snapped. “Put that sword away before you hurt yourself. As for the rest of you…” She glared at the stunned crowd. “You will not stab my assistant. Boy, go put the washing down by that box… No, the shorter one.”

“I- I cannot believe it.” Johan spluttered. “To bring this filth to our camp…” He wheeled on Marcus and Sieg. “The monster has already corrupted Lady Hera’s servant! How dare you do this to us?”

Leif sensed the aura of the man, Johan, tremble in fury. It gave off the impression of shifting and interlocking machine parts.

He deliberately tried to relax as he carefully placed the clothing to the side. So many hostile intents and emotions were quickly fraying his nerves.

He wanted to push his newly acquired [Amber Sympathy] down, to no longer be able to feel the intent of those around him. But if they attacked… the skill would be his only warning.

“We’ve been telling you this for the past few hours.” Sieg spat. “If you listened to us at any point you might understand.”

“Pah! This is why the Academy shouldn’t accept savages, you’ve led a monster right to us! While we’re in the middle of hostile territory? Are you mad?” The coordinator snapped in response.

The members of the expedition looked warily between Leif and the argument. A few fanned out or took on defensive postures but most stood around and gawked.

“Dear?” Melissa asked one of the onlookers, a young woman with two circular disks on her belt.

“Y-yes ma'am?” She replied, her gaze shifting from Leif to the older woman.

“Where is my little Hera? Has she arrived yet?”

“N-no. Not yet, the missive from earlier today is still the most-” Something in the girls pocket pinged. The sound deafening all muttered chatter. She fumbled for a moment before bringing a smaller version of the communication orb out.

Johan stomped over and snatched it out of her hand. The object flashed briefly, the man smirked.

“Spit it out.” Sieg demanded.

“Soon,” The coordinator said triumphantly, “It says soon. The blade is coming soon.” For some reason several people all looked to the sky.

Melissa waddled over to Leif with a bowl of soup. He hadn’t even noticed her grab it. “Want something to eat? It’s dried fish and cream. Good for you.”

“Uh, no… I don’t eat.” He said.

“It's important for growing boys to eat.” She stated with the confidence of seniority.

“I should probably go.” Leif said. “I’m not welcome here.” And it was true, he could feel the hostility building up, disgust, anger and fear. Not all of it was directed at him, or at least not directly. It was more like what he represented was anathema to these people.

Considering this land was destroyed by monsters, I can’t blame them. He thought.

It all felt hopeless. This had been a mistake, how could someone, something, like him possibly be welcomed into civilised society?

“Nonsense, nonsense. You’re a guest and it doesn’t matter what the loud children over there say.” She said with a kind smile. “My little Hera will be here soon, the two she was escorting arrived earlier today, it won’t be long now.”

“Leaf!” Marcus called, pushing his way through the crowd. “Sorry, we really did try to explain!”

“You explained wonderfully my dear.” Melissa consoled. “I understood your words just fine, and my hearing isn’t what it used to be...”

Sieg swore at the group and told them to put away their weapons. They grumbled and complained and did a fantastic job not listening.

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“There!”

“Over there!”

Two new voices called at the same time. A young man and woman both pointed to the west, then they turned and glared at each other as if they had been grievously wounded by the thought of speaking the same words.

Leif looked to the west, and for an instant he didn’t spot anything. It was because he was looking too low.

Overhead the clouds parted as a thin streak of white blasted through the blankets of darkening white and grey. Members of the expedition yelped and cursed, most scattering.

The spriggan tensed. Then he looked down at the bowl of soup the old woman had put in his hand. “Here she comes. Just be yourself.”

Leif thought that was possibly the worst advice he had ever heard.

The streak of white arched downwards, angling towards the camp. It fell in a blur of speed, Leif’s vision was barely able to follow its trajectory. One thing was certainly clear, it was heading towards the expedition.

It landed a good twenty metres behind Leif, what few animals hadn’t been startled off by the yelling and screaming of the camp’s denizens darted away. Dust exploded outwards, spraying over the nearest tents. A glowing arrow protruded from the dirt, then it warped and expanded, with a pop and a flash of white light a woman appeared in mid stride.

She wore plain, but form fitting clothing. Blond hair billowed behind her along with a shoulder cape of gold and grey. She took in the campsite with a quick, evaluating glance, then focused on Leif. The spriggan tensed as piercing hazel eyes bore into him.

The space behind Hera blurred, a ghostly outline of an armoured figure wielding a bow apparated, string drawn and arrow knocked. Then the woman kicked off the ground, in a blink she was at his throat, curved blade drawn.

Hostile intent, sharp and immediate, like the crack of a whip kept Leif locked in place. It was the only thing that prevented him from dropping the bowl of soup.

For an eternal instant everything was still, all chatter and yells had ceased, the evening wind fading into the background.

“What.” She said, tone flinty. “Is this? And why is it in my camp?”

Leif felt her aura rise above him, it rose like a domineering tyrant, then crashed down like a wave. It was an almost physical authority, something that had been earned with steel and blood.

Leif felt his perception unnaturally withdraw into himself, he knew that using a skill while suppressed in this way would be possible, but would take a great amount of effort.

Wait, her aura… it feels familiar. He realised. Then, as if attracted by a strange similarity between them, his own aura pushed back.

Leif’s aura was no match for Hera’s, but the buildup of fear, anxiety and a healthy dose of anger allowed, for a brief instant, his aura to shine through the cracks of her iron grip of control. His authority rippled against her own, a marking of birthright.

“Interesting aura.” Hera commented. Cocking her head slightly to the side.

“Thanks.” Leif deadpanned. She could almost certainly kill him, but after being kicked around like a ball not too long ago he had no intention of letting her do it for free. If she went for a killing blow, at the very least he would try and return the favour.

“You’re the reported anomaly?”

“I suspect so.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gut you like a fish.” She commanded. Her tone broached no argument.

“Sieg and I owe him our lives, blade.” Marcus said as he coughed dust and dirt from his mouth. “I would certainly be dead without him.”

“He’s a witness to the events below Pherin.” Sieg commented. “And we already offered him the Academy's assistance.”

“Did you now?” She asked, never looking away from Leif.

The spriggan remained still but Marcus nodded emphatically.

Hera narrowed her eyes, her already sharp gaze glinted threateningly. “Oh, here’s something interesting: In the southern deserts there are shape shifters who disguise themselves as people, manipulate their way into towns and villages. They can hold a conversation, even act friendly…”

Leif understood the implication. ‘Prove yourself.’ “I have a [Noble] class.” He said, that wouldn't be possible if he were lying. Right?

“So you’re level fifty. Forced some brat to impart the class. I’ve seen it happen. The line between monster and person blurs the stronger one becomes.” She said coldly.

“I’m only twenty five.” He hissed, her blade bit into the bark at his neck.

She tilted her head as if studying him from a new angle. “Do you feel frustrated? Fearful? Desperate?”

Leif couldn’t nod with a sword to his throat. He just glared back at her with two balls of glowing amber. “I’m getting sick of things more powerful than me doing what they want.”

“A common complaint. Just get stronger, it worked for me.”

“Hera… Dear. Don’t you think this is enough?” Melissa asked.

“One can never be too safe, grandmother.”

“Miss Hera Kossia. The man you are threatening is someone I invited into our camp, they’re a guest as far as I’m concerned.” The old woman chided.

Hera sighed. “You’re not a blade of the Academy grandmother, this isn’t your choice to make. I must prioritise the safety of-”

More words were exchanged but Leif wasn’t paying attention. Something had shocked him to the core. Kossia. I know that name. But from where? Then the realisation hit him, like a brick through an expensive window. Leif blinked open his [Aura of Nobility]’s skill description.

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Aura of Nobility I:

Aspects: Aura, Social*

Your auric presence possesses traces of your noble baring and lineage. You may display your intent through your aura, your intent has a greater effect on those with a weaker aura.

You can control your aura in ways impossible without an aura skill.

Notes: Keep this suppressed around the Kossia family. They’re insufferable.

Two years later, one of them married my cousin! They’re closing in! HELP ME!

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