[Ashborn-B1] 77. Lines in the Sand (Patreon)

LXXVII

Lines in the Sand

The last of Judith’s essence rushed up her arms into her staff and light flushed out of her weapon in a cone too wide for the sprite to dodge. The already wounded spirit burst into pieces that fell and disintegrated before touching the floor.

Judith sagged to her knees. Breaths rasped through her dry throat as she heaved.

“We—” she swallowed. “We did it…”

Her words echoed in her mind but failed to register. She couldn’t believe it. She really thought she was done for.

Dorothy chimed. ‘Great job—’

“Barely,” Scar scoffed. He left his perch on the blade and hovered towards her. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Dorothy did the equivalent of pouting in her mind.

“You need to work on your control of Dorothy’s energy,” he said. “Had you been more efficient, you wouldn’t be this winded.”

Judith sighed. “Lord Scar, I’m doing my—”

“Your best is not enough.”

Her lips pressed together. Well, then there was nothing she could do, was there?

The weapon sprite’s tail curled behind his back. “Dorothy should’ve caught the information I gave you during the fight. Have her recite it to you.”

Judith heard her companion breathe in to speak when Scar continued.

“After we’re finished.”

“We’re not?” Judith said with a trembling voice.

“Though you won’t be able to master it, you need start learning one final technique before going back out there.”

She frowned. ‘A technique?’ Judith didn’t interrupt the sprite and listened greedily. Anything he could teach her would be worthwhile. What could it be?

“Manifestation,” Scar said.

“Manifestation?”

He nodded. “Dorothy was born without a manifestation. However, the basis of her soul is still that of a weapon spirit. Manifesting her as a weapon will make her many times stronger than she is now.”

Judith’s head tilted. “Lord Scar…isn’t that the study of decades?” Her connection with Dorothy was a fledgling one. Not only that, but theirs was not regular. How could she possibly learn how to ‘manifest’ Dorothy this quick?

“You’d be right.” Scar surveyed the many weapons buried in the ground. “Normally.”

“Normally…” she repeated.

“As I explained before, a weapon sprite’s manifestation remains after they die. Their weapon is like their corpse. However, the inverse is also true.”

Her brow raised. She had no idea where he was going with this.

“When the weapon is destroyed,” Scar continued, “the sprite doesn’t vanish immediately. There’s a grace period where they can try to find themselves another vessel.”

“Like another body?” Judith pushed herself to her feet. Her fatigue was beginning to fade.

“Right. That said, finding another vessel isn’t simple. The reasons are beyond the scope of this conversation. However, imagine that you needn’t only find a perfect match, but also one that shares the inclinations of your spirit and the capacity for your future potential.”

‘Future potential…’ A spirit cut off from its body and about to die should have no future. However, this was likely an advanced concept similar to Karma that a lower realm cultivator shouldn’t worry about.

Which was why she stopped her thoughts before a headache could wrack her brain.

“How will this help me manifest Dorothy?”

The sprite crossed his arms and looked down on her with a smug look. “Since Dorothy lacks a vessel, there’s no particular weapon type that she belongs to. As long as you model the manifestation after her, she should be able to attach herself to it.”

Her brows depressed. That sounded…logical.

She turned to Dorothy. “You think it will work?”

…Maybe? Ask him how you’re supposed to model the weapon after me.

Judith repeated the question out loud.

“I knew my daughter was smart,” Scar nodded and smiled. “Shortly put, you need to understand to Dorothy better.”

“…do I just ask her questions?”

“That would be a start! However, for this special occasion I’ve prepared the following for you!” He reached for his behind and pulled a book out of thin air. “I call it: ‘The Chronicles of My Adorable Darling in a Heavenly Paradise!’ It contains all of the notable things she did as a child and also some baby pictures.”

Judith felt Dorothy squirm on the inside. Father! Dorothy yelled, but Scar couldn’t hear her. He handed Judith the book.

It was almost as thick as a novel. She leafed through the contents. Like Scar said, it contained stories of events that happened when Dorothy was a child. The page she landed on detailed Dorothy’s quarrel with a sibling named Zoey. Apparently, Zoey stole her favourite trinket making Dorothy run crying to her father.

That’s not even what happened! Dorothy cried. I beat her up and made her return my doll!

Judith shook her head. She didn’t put it past the Father to embellish stories in his favour. “How did you even write all of this…” she continued leafing through the pages. There were at least a hundred entries. Did he have one of these for all of his daughters?

Scar sneered. “Don’t underestimate us Fathers. As if I’d let physical boundaries stop me from recording my daughter’s growth.”

That almost made Judith give the spirit some begrudging respect.

Almost.

“So I just need to read all of this?” she asked.

He nodded. “Learn about her. Then work on channelling her light essence into a shape you identify with her. That’s all there is to it. Dorothy will do the rest.”

She turned the tome over in her hands. The cover was an image of Dorothy flying through the garden, her arms spread out, eyes closed and enjoying the wind hitting her face.

‘Chronicles, huh.’

The first thing Scar wanted to show off was her smile.

If anything, no one could question his love for his daughter.

That thought resonated in her mind as she sat down to read the entire thing.

Judith stepped through the exit back into the entry hall of the temple. The entrance to the training chamber remained locked.

“The boy is still busy,” Scar said.

She regarded the weapon sprite. It’d escaped her notice before, but he was haler now. Brighter.

‘Being away from his vessel from a prolonged period of time must be draining.‘ Though she suspected he wouldn’t have any issues being removed from it for days before he began to notice the strain.

Judith lowered her head. “Thank you for all the help, Lord Scar.”

“Don’t mention it. Keep your head on your shoulders and don’t forget what I taught you.”

She kept her head low. “Would you like to say anything to Dorothy?”

This was likely the last time they’d ever see each other, after all.

Scar paused in the air. His eyes glazed over. “Stay safe. Know that, no matter what happens, your Father will always be on your side. And just because you’re not here, doesn’t mean I’m not always thinking of you.”

Father…

Judith closed her ears to the sobbing in her skull and merely regurgitated what Dorothy said in response.

When her companion had finally finished saying everything she could, Judith turned around to leave. The echoes of her steps filtered out over the pews. Vibrated through the intangible, heavenly light pouring from everywhere at once. She paused to appreciate the room in full.

‘You know…’ she thought. ‘My mother didn’t show up to tell me goodbye.’

The intangible light ruffled the bottom layer of her hair not fixed into a tail.

What do you mean? Dorothy said.

A soft smile touched Judith’s lips as the image of her father standing beside her in the courtyard, with his head pointed at the floor came back to her.

Your mother is not coming, Judith.

“It was when I decided to enter the mystic realm…she told my father she refused to watch her child foolishly head towards their death.”

…

Judith shook her head. Yeah. Horrendous, right? She continued down the pathway without waiting for an answer.

“My words extend to you as well.”

Judith turned around.

Scar had his arms crossed. There was a hard core in the sprite’s eyes. One which had solidified centuries ago, with room only for every one of his daughters. The exterior of the shell had softened to expand.

“You’re a kind girl,” he said. “Don’t die out there.”

Her brow twitched, but she otherwise kept her face passive. “You don’t know that.”

“What’d I tell you about a Father’s instinct?” he huffed. “I can tell.”

She let her eyelids droop. The words of a being capable of killing her in a blink held weight. However, what ‘kind’ person dreamt every night of killing a man, wringing the life out of him one drop of blood at a time?

“You don’t have to be righteous,” Scar said. “You just need to be the one left standing in the end. That’s all that matters. Everything else is drivel.”

She allowed a moment for his statement to settle in the air. Then she exited the temple.

A dark cloud hung in the sky like it was going to rain.

Incredible, Dorothy whispered. So clouds really do exist.

Judith blinked. Right. Dorothy had never set foot outside her home.

‘This is nothing.’ Judith thought. She wanted to add: ‘wait until we return from the Tomb,’ but Everwinter wasn’t the real world either. It’d be a while before Dorothy could see the true outside—

“Lady Judith! You’re back! We were getting worried.”

Garen ran towards her but stopped well before reaching her. “Lady Judith, what…” His sight was trained on her face.

Her brow raised. What had him so—ah. That.

“Don’t mind it.” She placed one hand over her eye. “It’s a gift.”

“A gift?”

She nodded. “What’s happening in the shrine?” This cloud wasn’t normal.

Garen was wearing a helmet so she couldn’t see him frowning, but she knew he was. The big man stared at her for a second before rotating north. “The shrine is activating. Is Lord Tirion returning soon?”

“He’s challenging the training room. I didn’t receive an indication on how long it’d take.”

It could be forever, for all they knew, as he may not succeed.

“Are our forces ready?” she asked.

His armour clanked. “They’ve been prepared from the start. It’s just that…”

She knew what he wanted to say from the way he trailed off. Garen always skirted around touchy subjects.

“We should proceed as if she’s not coming,” she said.

A rumbled travelled down the sky and rolled over them. Garen shuffled in place.

Judith placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know. But we cannot run.”

Not just for Ray’s sake. Completing this shrine was necessary to enter the Land of Blades on the third floor. If they returned to the surface and revealed they ran from the fight with the Immortals…

“I understand, Milady.”

With a nod, Judith joined the remainder of their army. Most were shocked to see her. Besides her eye, her ambient aura had also deepened. Her presence could no longer be compared to before she entered the tomb.

Garen was right. Everyone was prepared. Still, they decided to go over the rules of their engagement one final time. She positioned herself at the head of the army with Garen and let him speak.

“Our task is to activate as many slabs as possible,” he said. “Each slab has an instruction.” The archaic words on the column closest to them translated to: ’produce a total of 400 weapon-constructs.’

Another one Judith plucked from her memory told them to retrieve a Blade Hollow—it was a stone of some sorts that was hidden somewhere within the chamber. The Fallen Immortals had their own set of tasks, so it was a battle of who could complete their tasks the quickest.

Each completed task would buff their army but also allow one of the knights to leave the Scar’s temple.

‘I hope his guards can stand up to that of the Arch-Fiend.’ As the moniker resounded in her mind, Judith turned to her rear. There, she loomed in her throne of bones. There, the clouds, which flashed intermittently with a dark, pulsing energy, seemed to be centred overhead.

The Arch-Fiend was smiling.

At the base of her statue, darkness spread like wings. The black sharpened into the silhouettes of people as Judith peered. Cowls hid everyone’s face except that of one.

The Vile wore plate blacker than a sunless sky—the metal-like wings protruding from his back were darker still. Smoke released from the wiry spear in his hands as if the weapon was venting. Seething for a taste of blood.

Dorothy shrunk away. Judith’s left eye throbbed, and she gripped the handle of her staff.

No, running had never been an option. S either met her end—

Despite the distance, Vyke’s gaze wormed through her.

—or she would get her revenge.