Vescrutia: Legacy

D'huro remained silent for several moments as his gaze drifted between the four Lotuses watching him from their elevated seats and he could feel their scrutiny filling the chamber. Cazzador's skepticism, Vana's guarded curiosity, Zion's quiet attention, and Azara's serene, almost unnerving patience. He had never formally stood before any of them, but listening to their exchanges had already given him enough insight to begin measuring their temperaments. Cautious, certainly. Suspicious, perhaps. But they were receptive.. for the most part.

And yet.

D'huro had faced armies that had fought tooth and nail to see his head mounted upon a spike. He had stood beneath gnashing fangs of Acheri behemoths and watched entire battlefields turn into killing grounds. And still, he could not remember the last time he had felt pressure quite like this..

The pressure of simply standing in this room.

“...”

His expression remained still and composed, but the same could not be said for the men surrounding him. Several of the Inuki hunters shifted uneasily. Fingers fidgeted against weapon hilts. Shoulders tightened. Eyes wandered across the unfamiliar architecture before quickly returning forward. Small movements. Almost imperceptible to the naked eye. But D'huro noticed.

Years of command had taught him that fear rarely announced itself through grand gestures. Sometimes it was nothing more than a thumb rubbing nervously against the guard of a sword. He allowed his men a moment to collect themselves. Then he drew a slow breath and cleared his throat.

“..We would not be here if the circumstances were not dire.” He said, crossing his arms at his back. “For nearly five thousand years, the Inuki have guarded Vescrutia from the breach located beneath the Strata Mountains.”

D'huro continued before reaching inside his cloak to retrieve a metallic orb.

“As you are aware, it is an aperture that connects this realm directly to that of Acheron. And across our tenure guarding its entrance, we have created territories within the realm to help maintain our foothold on the necks of the demonic blight.”

He said, pressing a button upon the metallic orb generating a sphere of pale light that rapidly spread throughout the center of the chamber.

Suddenly, the holographic visual of Acheron filled the space before them. A vast, hostile landscape unfolded beneath a grey sky of crimson clouds. Blackened earth stretched toward an indistinct horizon, somehow illuminated by neither sun nor moon. It was dark, but not blindingly so. The terrain was completely barren in places, twisted in others, and but so utterly alien that even some of the surrounding Mizu court seemed to grow quieter at the sight.

Yet scattered throughout that hellscape were signs of something distinctly Vescrutian.
Thousands upon thousands of Inuki hunters. Camps. Fortifications. Supply stations.
Massive lamps powered by Naten and artificial energy illuminated the surrounding darkness, creating islands of warmth against the oppressive grey sky.

Twenty thousand warriors stood stationed within the territory. Twenty thousand trained hunters. This was Navar Inuki's battalion. Practically an entire army operating as a unified extension of the Inuki military machine. And despite the incredibly bleak environment, the scene conveyed a sense of control and security that seemed almost reassuring in the face of doom itself. The Inuki had literally carved a foothold into Acheron and transformed it into a military frontier.

D'huro allowed the projection to remain for several seconds. Before he continued. And when he did, the calm certainty in his voice.. waivered.

“But something has changed.”

He said clicking another button, and immediately, the visual shifted. The next array of images illustrated what occurred merely moments later. The massive presence of New Vorelia was razed into a cauterized pit of bones, destruction, and molten debris. The visceral images forced most of the Inuki hunters standing behind Dhuro to avert their gaze. The event was only nearly a year ago, but the wounds of loss and sense of powerlessness and grief were crippling.

But Dhuro did not look back.

"For months, the Inuki have sent hunters beyond the breach in an attempt to locate and confront this.. threat.” His jaw tightened. "Thousands have been deployed.. And thousands have died.” He paused. “..Nalar and Jade Inuki were among them.”

The names carried through the chamber. And for the briefest moment, D'huro's expression betrayed something beneath his usual discipline.. Regret. But just as quickly, it was gone. And he continued.

"But prior to her death, Jade was able to accumulate empirical data from the battle.” The projection shifted again. Fragmented visual recordings appeared alongside diagrams, distorted silhouettes, environmental readings, and scattered pieces of testimony. "She collected accounts from those who survived long enough to speak. Fragmented images of what they encountered. Environmental changes. Biological abnormalities. And what we believe may be indications of vulnerabilities.”

His eyes narrowed.

“We have studied the remains of examined territories where entire Acheri forces simply ceased to exist.” He said, fixing his gaze against the Mizu Tsuki Council observing from above. “And while we have never encountered one before, we have every reason to believe that this is a Prime Acheri.”

The statement settled heavily over the chamber as his eyes shifted now across all bearing witnesses within the building.

[B["Entire regions of Acheron while, originally alien, have been rendered unrecognizable. Acheri swarms abandoning territories they had occupied for centuries, the air once compatible with our bodies, have become the agent of some incurable pathogen."[/b] His fingers curled slowly into fists as he continued.. “But everything we know is conjecture. All we can be certain of is that Prime Acheri possesses a level of power beyond anything the Inuki have previously encountered."

He looked toward the council.

"And it is moving toward the breach.”

He said, allowing the chamber to sift back into a loaded silence in reflection of his warning. The very room seemed to grow colder as he continued.

“Our Grand Luminary has thus made a decision; We will not wait for this monster to reach our doorstep.” He straightened his posture. "We will enter Acheron and vanquish the Prime before it reaches the breach."

His words were spoken without bravado. Without pride.. Only necessity. His softened expression had grown hardened and resolute. But his voice maintained that military control he'd been known for.

"But as resolute as we are, we are not daft." D'huro's returned now to the council.
"The Inuki recognize that If we are to accomplish this feat, this is no longer a battle we can afford to fight alone.”

He said, fixing his words toward the High Priestess.

"The Yaarou have agreed to accompany us into Acheron." He allowed the significance of that statement to settle beneath the hushed gasps. "We would not have sought their involvement lightly. The Yaarou possess abilities and knowledge that even the Inuki cannot replicate. But despite their.. legacy.. They alone are not enough."

The words drew another silence.

"For all the differences between our clans, the Inuki recognize an undeniable truth: Mizu Tsuki are the one of the greatest forces in Edo when it comes to understanding and destroying the Acheri.”

He continued now, softening his gaze.

"You possess knowledge our people do not." His gaze moved toward Zion.
"You have studied their biology." Toward Vana. "You have fought them across generations." Toward Cazzador. "You possess resources capable of supporting a campaign our traditional methods cannot sustain." And finally, toward Azara.
"And you possess knowledge of the supernatural that may be indispensable against something our clan has ever encountered.”

D'huro lowered his head slightly. "We have been rivals for generations.. I will not pretend otherwise." The admission carried more weight than any attempt at flattery could have. "We have disagreed over methods and doctrines that illustrate what it means to serve our people."

He looked around the chamber.

"You believe we cling too tightly to the past.. We believe you have allowed the pursuit of prosperity to corrupt a sacred duty." D'huro's eyes hardened. "But none of that matters if the physical world falls.”

The fame, the glory, the honor of his parent's legacy was a great and powerful shadow that his parent's had left behind. It wasn't something that Kuno was afraid of in the slightest, his parents had raised him to be privy to all the techniques and motivation that they should have as Inuki warriors. Their shadow was something that constantly surrounded him in the village of 'Sun-Hounds' and that was part of the reason Kuno secluded himself from it so vehemently.

The boy was sick of it, stricken with grief and denial that the greatest warriors he knew were used as a mere building block of Inuki prophecy and a stepping stone of Archeri domination. It was something that tore Kuno apart inside. The acknowledgement of their achievements wasn't something he was prepared to hear both inside and outside of the village, his face twisted away fighting back both tears and despair at the stories about the heights of his parents he was expected to achieve.

Kuno wanted to achieve greatness in spite of the greatness he heard so much about. The quiet stares and obscure whispers was something that Kuno was protected from while they were alive but his stark difference in appearance from his parents drew much attention from his compatriots at all times. Their achievements could no longer protect him from the public opinion of their expectations, or lack thereof. The distance he felt from his parents manifested itself in the hair he grew after the funeral memorial in their honor, shaving the hair his parents gifted them with their genetics that he had grown since birth this pitch black color that grew was a constant testimony of his sorrow. His albino skin was already more sensitive to light than the average Inuki but he made sure not a single fleck of it was reflected by the hair on his head.

The war stories and victories was never something his parents brought home outright, not that he didn't hear about throughout the village, but they were passionate about driving home the lessons they learned in their expeditions. Thus the boy was quiet in response to the Mizu chief praising the history they had together, listening desperately to the tale but carefully trying to avoid showing the emotion that was fighting to express itself on his face. Eye contact was fleeting to say the least, his eyes cutting back to the council at every mention of their name.

D'huro was much more upfront about the duties and responsibilities he expected Kuno to be able to reach at his young and inexperienced age, and the boy respected that. He did not hide the gruesome details of war and battle behind the emotional history he had with his parents, it was a stark contrast to how his parent's raised him and the young scholar scried much more knowledge from his words than any honor that vague memories of them brought forth.

Kuno had seen the footage before of the Archeri aftermath, nonetheless his eyes were drawn to the grave scene where his parents fell, his lips tightening with contempt witnessing the insurmountable power that he deigned to find a way to eventually overcome. His head was cast downward as if he was trying to find cracks in the smoothly polished floor of the council room, his eyes starting to well with tears before he distracted his thoughts with the research he planned to correlate with their next strike. Trying his best to stay in the moment and remembering the entire reason they came here instead of regretting the mistakes of the past, the path he had often found himself on after their death, one that bred resentment for the honor bound Inuki way of living.

Listening to the cold hard facts was one of the only ways Kuno could settle his mind, one of the reasons he so often found himself in their archives, standing on the light of the windows in the upper reaches of the tallest shelves. The generals speech was thankfully long enough for Kuno to gather his thoughts and find his voice once more, if not just long enough to for him to reciprocate his thanks for the heralding stories of his heritage. He stepped forward.

"You honor me, regaling memories of Nalar and Jade Inuki."

Kuno said flatly, bowing slowly and honestly doing his best to drain his voice of the emotions that might cause his words to quiver.

"But the way my parents fought this war is what has led them and so many of my kin to their death over the course of this never-ending war."

Trying to speak with confidence that the weight of his heritage would raise his words to the lofty authority of the Mizu council, since they seemed to think of them as highly as his own elders, was difficult since he had little to say even to his own leaders. Nevertheless he continued.

"We hope to unite our knowledge in order to end this cycle of endless sacrifices and stop this conflict. For as our commander has aptly stated, it will become unstoppable if left under the same stewardship."

His eyes lifted with the most determined gaze he could manage towards Mizu council. There wasn't one that his thoughts rested on in particular, almost as if he were gazing through them, though his eyes did narrow on the one that spoke of his parents. It was a gaze of indifference, as if to say it did not matter what his parents did, it didn't matter what any of these high and mighty council members did if they were going to commit to self-genocide by not changing their ways. He looked past them at the vast wealth of information and resources that they had to offer. Looking desperately for a way to change his circumstance, all of their circumstances, for the sake of his parents and so many others that had lost their lives. Still, he bowed even deeper after his statement, intentionally avoiding the repercussions of D'huro's gaze itself knowing full well the carriage he had thrown their leaders under before he stepped back in line.