Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 72: Of a Feather

Chapter 72: Of a Feather

Kaan Alfredi, commander of the Ahle-ho garrison, captain of the Empire’s Mercy, bondmate of an ancient guardian, and grandfather to forty seven grandchildren made the sky weep at his approach.

He hung in the sky, as if the very air was capable of supporting his greatness. His well oiled moustache and beard remained perfectly still, despite the chaotic lashes of wind and rain that surrounded him. In fact, he wasn’t wet at all, a benefit of mastery over weather magics.

Despite his age, Kaan Alfredi didn’t look a day over fifty. One of many advantages to advancing through the level fifty and one hundred bottlenecks at a young age. His dark complexion was common among those from the empire’s eastern provinces.

At his command, great updrafts of wind swept from the south, propelling both him and his personal sky skimmer at speeds no vessel had ever been designed to travel. The skimmer was far larger than the meagre rafts the expedition had used on its initial deployment to the northern frontier.

And truth be told, the Empire’s Mercy was not the right tool for this job, its greater size making it more suited for the open seas than constantly pitching in an effort to not crash into the tops of trees or rolling hills.

But he had little choice, two of the skimmers had to be left behind due to damages. As long as he could evacuate the men and women under his command out of the deathtrap that had been sprung on them, everything would be fine.

Should be fine.

With a flex of his will he ushered another gale of winds to surge up from behind. His skimmer once again picked up speed, the crew clutched to guardrails or had tied themselves to the deck via ropes.

Such speed would generally be ill advised, if the skimmer strayed more than two dozen or so metres from the navigation route the vessel would no longer be powered by the invisible streams of wayfinding magics.

But the pace, while reckless, had been more than worth it. Kaan had partially feared that Far-reach would have fallen, the position having been overrun by undead. It was a good thing that the empire’s methods of reclaiming lost territories accounted for sudden attacks.

Far ahead, the battle raged unceasingly, from his elevation Kaan could just make out undead and soldiers fighting in the streets and through the ruins of buildings. But beyond that, above Far-Reach was the real fight. Kaan felt his blood rise, his every cell flush with energy.

He’d burnt through a week's worth of cultivation pushing for time over the past few days, a little more wouldn’t hurt. He redoubled his speed, the cultivated power of storms and winds that spun within his soul being expended in what many would have considered wasteful excess.

In the moment, Kaan found that it hardly mattered. He hadn’t seen a fight like this in years, not since the ants had slaughtered their way across the northern vassal kingdoms and partially pressed into the empire proper.

It seemed that Hera’s reports had actually been correct. Sure, he’d doubted her. When Hera had explained the academy’s discoveries via communication construct he had found them hard to believe. But as he observed the conflict with his own eyes Kaan finally accepted that she hadn’t been mistaken, the enemies humanity now faced were likely a remnant of that invasion.

It brought him no small amount of joy to realise some of his old foes had willingly presented themselves for him to finish off. Kaan laughed, the sound reverberating through the clouds like rolling thunder. If the man who had gifted him the Empire's Mercy could see what he was doing with it, he likely would have spat blood.

He could feel the flickering emotions of his bond. Pocht roared in delight as he drew near, the closer he and his bonded companion drew the more stable their connection.

He was close, a minute, maybe less. He would have to guide his skimmer into the tiny docks at the outpost lest his ship accidently break apart on the rocky bluff. It would take only a moment, surely there would-

A sudden spike of alarm reached him from Pocht, his heart briefly caught in his throat. For an instant nothing happened. Then a blinding flash of white lit up the sky, blowing away the cloud cover that hung above Far-reach. Kaan cursed and kicked off of the wind, [Rain Step] carrying him ahead of the skimmer at a blisteringly fast speed.

He blurred forward, still blinking the blindness from his vision. Kaan sensed, rather than saw his bond as the coatl was sent flying by the blast. The pain, phantom, like a memory, reached him through their connection.

Finally the outpost came within his range of perception, each raindrop that hit the ground below, plinking off armour and skin relaying the positions and situation of the battle.

It looked grim, despite everything he had been too slow.

His perception caught a figure falling through the air, Kaan pivoted mid step and all but flew upwards. He caught Hera’s falling body, then kicked off the air to lurch both him and the unconscious blade away from a slice of dark blue power.

It seemed to carve through reality like a warm knife through butter. Kaan’s perception skill warped and distorted where the gravitational energy had passed.

“Pocht!” He mentally roared. Despite being injured the coatl twisted immediately in response to his call.

“Shiny human hurt!” The serpent mentally cried. “I take to ointment wizard?”

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Kaan grimaced as he took in Hera’s partially charred form. “If there are any in the outpost who can help her… Pocht, where is the nearest healer?”

His bond’s crimson crest of feathers shimmered, a telltale sign of the creature’s divination skills at work. The coatl’s head snapped down. “I sense… but different. Strong!” It hissed. “Much strength!”

Kaan frowned, who in the expedition was a ‘strong’ healer? He supposed it didn’t matter. “Go, take her to the healer. I’ll hold off our little friend up there.” With a gesture he tied a tether of water around Hera’s waist and looped it around Pocht’s middle in several large loops.

Then he turned his attention to the enemy of humanity. A wide grin split his face. Maybe leaving retirement was worth it after all.

===

“What was that?” Marcus asked, the man having slumped against an overturned cart to prevent him from falling as the sudden blast of light and sound had assaulted Far-reach.

Leif wasn’t sure, but he suspected the flash of light had something to do with Hera. All around him the Academy students and soldiers were picking themselves up off of the ground. A task made twice as difficult due to them being half disorientated from the detonation.

Overhead was a vast gap in the crimson tainted clouds, quickly the hole was filled in by boiling storm clouds that blotted out all light from the sky above. As if it had never stopped, the downpour restarted, perhaps even more overbearing than before.

They had gotten to the end of the large bluff before the explosion had sent them tumbling into the muddy dirt. Before them was the natural archway that connected the main outpost to its smaller sibling. On the other side Leif could barely make out the movement of dozens of people as they hurried about trying to disembark the smaller skimmers.

What’s going on? He asked himself, peering through the downpour. Why aren’t they getting people onto the skimmers to evacuate?

To the side Sieg angrily swiped his hand. In moments an angular sheet of ice was keeping away the worst of the rain.

A roar split the air, followed by a tremendous gust of wind. Soldiers scattered as the massive form of the serpentine coatl crashed down into the outpost. Leif felt the lifeforce held within the creature and froze.

There was so much. Was that the vitality of a high level monster? He felt his cultivation base churn at the sight, then his attention was dragged forcibly to the much fainter source of vitality strapped to the monster’s side.

“Healer…” The coatl hissed, looking directly at him. Its presence was oppressive and heavy, its aura wild and untamed. “Healer who is not… Healer who hides…”

Leif was frozen mid step, his cloak was still tightly clinging to his body, though thoroughly drenched in rain he should still be hiding his monstrous appearance.

“Healer who is… Not… Not human…” The coatl continued, tilting its head at an angle as if intrigued. “Pocht is curious. Very, very curious.”

“I can explain,” Leif called, “But I need to heal her first.”

The creature hissed and pulled back. Its feathered wings, slick with the constant runoff of water, shuffled as the great serpent glared down at Leif. “Explain… Is hiding healer friend?”

“Yes! Friend of you and humans.” Leif shouted, gesturing around at the staring soldiers.

“If friend, then who is bond?” It asked, still suspicious.

Leif paused, he didn’t have a bond. How will it react if I say that I don’t have one?

Before he could answer Marcus wobbled up beside him, slipping once in a puddle but catching himself on Leif’s shoulder. “Oh great feathered serpent. It is me, I am the… holder… of this one’s bond.”

Leif shot the man a glance. “Truely?!” The coatl asked, leaning in closer, its tone excited, its rampant intent far less hostile. “Bond holder like father? Can fly and make rain?”

“Uh, no? I can make purple lightning though.” Marcus said, taken aback by the question.

The coatl shook itself as if shimmying in joy. Then it turned its head and blasted a gout of blue-white flames down a nearby street. “Good! Good! You heal, Pocht rejoin fight now!” It said, bursting Hera’s water bonds and dropping her limp body to the wet, muddy ground.

The coatl beat its wings a single time, spraying water and detritus in every direction. Then it was gone, slithering through the air like a fish in water. The pressure of its presence lifted off everyone’s shoulders, Leif heard several take long, gasping breaths.

He ignored them and scrambled over to Hera’s unconscious form, sending a spell and cultivation empowered [Healing Palm] into her blackened and burnt side. He tried his best to control the flow of healing, guiding the energy to where it was most needed.

A single use of the spell wasn’t enough, nor was a second. After three uses Hera’s breathing had stabilised, then her eyes opened and she coughed up a mouthful of water and blood. “Fucking hells.” She gasped.

Leif dragged her under the cover of a nearby, half packed tent. “I’d ask if you are okay.” The spriggan said. “But I can tell that you are.”

“Wow, I feel so cared for.” Hera grunted. She looked up, her eyes flashed white with specs of rainbow light. “That thing is terrifyingly fast.”

Leif pushed her down as she tried to stand. “Woah, I said you were okay. But that doesn’t mean you can go back-”

“I’m fine, the body is partially remade at level fifty. Then fully at level one hundred. I’m much more receptive to healing magics than most others. Hells, I’m straight up harder to kill than even defensively focused level fifties.” She said.

“Okay… if you say so.” Leif said, not entirely convinced. He let her stand nonetheless.

She shrugged. “I’ll be fine as long as I don’t eat a direct hit again." She looked around to where several Academy students were all staring at her. More than just the four Leif had fought with to get this far. “You all need to evacuate, and I mean right now. Get on Kaan’s big fancy ship when it arrives and don’t look back.”

She cracked her neck and grinned. “You too, tree man. I’ll see you all at Ahle-ho, if I’m not around after a few days go find Darius’s family. I trust the independent guild more than the imperial army. The Academy and military don’t always get along.”

Then she fired an arrow of light into the distance, vanishing in a flash a few moments later. Leif turned to Marcus. “What the hells was that?”

“Hey.” The sandy haired man said, raising his hands defensively. “Your honesty was about to get you killed. The commander's bond is an… infamously poor decision maker. If it found out you weren’t bound it probably would have toasted you.”

Leif groaned, he hoped this wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.