Vescrutia: Legacy

The coolness of the Freshwater sea casual breeze sent a familiar chill down her spine as she and her squad stood on the platform preparing to depart from the Crimson Cloud. Her journey over the last eight months had been laden with many trials and arduous tests that pushed her limits, physically and mentally. All of it, even the twisting, bone-crushing transformation of eating the Safraberry, could not compare to the nots of anxiety in her stomach. B'halia continued to surprise her even now; she never considered she would be made to return here, the place she vowed never to set sights on again. That vow laid broken, shattered convictions, leaving a shard of an old resolve in the passing winds. In its place was something new altogether, an ambition she was still wrapping her head around but was riddled with feelings and emotions she had come to trust and depend upon. Resolute in knowing that her path, though still tied to the root of her vengeance, had evolved beyond it. She was no longer a slave to her fury but was now developing into a woman capable of regulating her emotions and the vast pressure that her calling had placed upon her shoulders.

"It amazes me...how cyclical life is...like the universe has a sense of humor."

Kilik thought to herself as her squad adjusted their gear and armaments. They had been instructed to leave their weapons behind. It was an odd request, considering they were in the middle of an Invasion. However, Kilik was adamant about the request. She didn't want to give the Nissagro any more cause for concern. No doubt the "Scale Sooths" mystic, with the ability to see a spurt of the future and past from the scales of the departed, had already warned of the invasion; she knew her presence alone would be threatening enough. She knew how she wanted to approach this, and though she was dedicated to B'halia...she would not allow this encounter to come to blows.

"Ma'am, permission to speak freely?"

Said the voice of the young Dryad, Hethra. Her voice broke Kilik's contemplative slump.

"Granted"

With that, Hethra stepped forward, standing beside Kilk as the sun bloomed over the crystal waters of the Freshwater Sea. She inhaled deeply, taking in the crisp air. Her deer-like ears perked as the native birds sang little symphonies against the roaring wave crashing against the shore. The sea was magnificent, and after so much studying back home, she was glad she could finally see the waters of a foreign land.

"You talked about this place in your sleep on your first trip to the infirmary. I was a newbie, but it was my first time seeing an Atlantean. Sure, the Vox are mariners, but I...always sensed something different about you. It made me want to see the Emerald Groves for myself."

Kilik said nothing, but she heard every single word. Initially, it was hard for her; even after being away for two years training under her former master, the Blade Dancer, her heartstrings still pulled notes of longing for her homeland. It wasn't surprising to hear she muttered about it when she first came to the Empire. The admiration in Hethra's voice and the enthusiasm to see a world different than her own...those emotions radiated off the Dyrad like a beacon. Kilik could feel them ebbing from her.

"My people have been a part of the Empire for eons now...I remember asking my mother how she felt about it...I'll never forget her reply."

Kilik became intrigued, her gaze turning to her side as Hethra's ethereal woodland attributes emanated a soothing presence.

"B'halia is like a mama bear who wants to protect the forest...because her cubs depend on it to have a chance of living if the forest is gone...her cubs starve. I imagine the seas are much the same. The forest needs water from the rains from the sea and oceans. Nature is an intersection; if one piece falls, the rest is soon to follow. "

Her pale green eyes scanned the vision before her.

"We are here as emissaries for an Empire that seeks to preserve the world's natural state free from the pollution of man. I believe the Nissagro wish for the same."

Kilk's heart thumped intensely as Hethra shared her words. Her faith in the empire's mission truly was heartwarming and inspiring. The other members agreed, even the more stubborn ones.

"You'd be surprised, Hethra, How stubborn the seas can be."

As the horn sounded off, Kilik said the invasion had begun, and it was time for them to move out.

"Alright, squad, it's time to get the operation underway. Vox, you will be our front formation, the second line will be the Joro, The Cyr mages will provide rear support, and you are to prioritize our healer's safety at all times."

"Ma'am!"

They responded affirmingly to their orders. Kilik took a deep breath as the others placed their helmets on those who needed them anyway. She jumped into the waters from the open hatch platform, and her squad followed her. The operation had begun.

They were presented with a breathtaking view as they entered the crystal clear waters of the Freshwater seas. Beneath the casual, unassuming surface was a veritable paradise of aquatic structures and creatures. The grand reef of the Emerald Groves was like something out of a fantasy story, the way its many spires resembled trees out of an enchanted forest. The way the light reflected off the structures proved a kaleidoscope allure to the waters. This great reef provided nutrients and shelter for many of the sea's residents—a vast ecosystem pivotal to the natural order here and, by extension, the whole of Vescrtuia. Kilik's heart could not help but give way to the powerful feelings of nostalgia and the innate trait of a creature, the acknowledgment of returning to the place of its birth.

"You have returned to the waves of your origin. How does it feel to be home once more?"

Orvyn had been silent for quite some time; they had not convened since she had first awakened as a user of shinjustu. It seems that Kilik's initial inability to channel Orvyn's fury and her frequent rebellious bursts properly had taken much of her energy, not to mention her evolution, or should she say her returning to her primal state before a man drove her to madness. That forced the great one into a slumber, and it seemed she was finally awake.

"This place...is no longer my home. Besides, are these waters also not your origin?"

"Mmm, it seems you still do not comprehend my presence. I am of the Ocean; I belong to all seas. Regardless, So what then, girl? You intend to flail my power about once more and demand they yield? It will not work, Kilik."

Her squad members joined behind her. They enarmoed by the beuaty of the groves. Some questioned whether Kilik had the resolve to see this mission through successfully. Half of them specialed she would use this chance to run back home; they could see the longing in her eyes, the instinct, and homesickness. But none of them knew what she did; she had been away from home for a long time, even before B'halia, and she would not allow herself to be swayed. But Orvyn may be right; force would not earn their trust, even with Orvyn's approval. No, she needed to block them out, even the Wave Mother.

"Let's press on; they likely already know we're here."

They pressed on, and Kilik's scales rippled as her legs seemed to morph into a mermaid's tail. A form she had not taken in so long; by manipulating her scales and the light, she could create a tail to help her swim. She sprinted in front of them, taking off with speed that sent ripples through the depths; if they didn't know she was here yet, they knew now. Her team followed suit, trying to keep up with her, though the Vox had little trouble doing so.

They forged on cutting through the waters, weaving through the twisting foliage of the reef. It would not be long before they finally made it to the gates of the grove heart, the Umbral Monestay, Mingara, home of the Nissagro. However, before they could make it a trifle deeper into the sea elvs territory, they before them would be a lone Atlantean. Kilik immediately recognized the being before her. Izmodan, A childhood friend of hers, was one of the few who treated her with genuine kindness...but he was also hurt the deepest by her departure. It seems Izmodan received the gatekeeper's call. Rightfully so, he was a fierce warrior, and many of their spars ended in ties. His duty was to redirect wanderers and those who wound up here mistakenly. And to keep the heart safe from those who sought harm to the grove. He was fierce as he was majestic, considered one of the few alpha gene family members. His strength alone has deterred many threats, and his ability to bewilder with his magic makes him a cunning foe. A series of clicks and trashes of his tails.

"Zue Calikck"

(Come No Closer)

Their native song, how long it had been since she spoke it. At first glance, Izmodan could tell there were some aquatic creatures among these strange outsiders, but others were land folk; it never ceased to amaze him how crafty land creatures become to meddle in the affairs of the sea. He was guarded, naturally, but though ready to attack if needed, he performed his duty with integrity and would offer them the chance to turn back. The team, most notably Hetra, were in awe; Kilik was the first Nissagro they had ever seen, so they figured they all looked humanoid as she did, but after this, and to her dismay, they were beginning to see how much of an anomaly Kilik indeed was, not just to them, but even her people. She possessed little of their traits save for her scales and horns.

"Olvk dcvhvk"

(The grove is home..."

This was a standard greeting among the Nissagro when one who voyaged beyond the grove returned home. Izmodan's almost spectral eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the girl who spoke to him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. Undoubtedly, the waters were playing tricks on him.

"Erigratur Cucakzer, feneria veck"

(Your sea speech is battered; your time with the surface has sullied your tongue)

Kilik clicked her tongue disapprovingly of his words. The waters around Izmodan began to twist slightly around him, and light seemed to bend arbitrarily. The squad prepared themselves for battle, even without their weapons at the Vox, which would prove able to protect themselves. Though the Cyr could not be overlooked, their magics still served as a backup, just in case. Kilik though raised her hand to have them remain at ease, she was famialr with what was happening. He was merely shifting his form, a specialty among their people. Izmodan adopted a form more humanoid , allowing him to communicate in a way that would hurry this conversation along; speaking to her primally was like pulling teeth for him. His present form was majesty as his primal one. Nissago was known for taking the appearance most appealing to those they engaged with, making communication a smoother process. Though presenting himself this way did his heart no justice...considering who was before him, he felt it most appropriate.

"Finless..."

Kilk's eyes narrowed as he stood several feet taller than her, his shadow casting a glare of superiority and disdain for her and her squad. Finless referred to those born humanoid, a slur she had heard people whisper when she was a child. Being the chief daughter shielded her from much, but this was the first time someone had said it to her face, which shows how they all must feel about her.

"We have come to speak with the Elder; it is most urgent."

"Scah! You have no right, finless; the groves are your domain no longer, and you come under a banner. Pitiful, have you no pride as an Atlantean?!"

His tail thrashed, unleashing a myriad of rippling waves that, despite their force, were not meant to harm the party, but he was not happy about this conversation.

"You dare to speak of me of Pride Izmodan? Because of my pride, I am here; had I not had any, we would've crossed blades by now."

"Is that a threat, Kilik?"

She felt her hand nearing the space where her blade would typically be; seems like it was a good call, after all, to leave it behind as he tightened around his spear. The tension began to intensify. However, Kilik would temper herself. Her kind could feel the emotions of those around them; he must have felt their apprehension and the anxiousness of her squad. They needed to disarm their feelings if they wished to be successful here. Her chest would rise, held for a moment before she released it.

"Izmodan, I can feel your wariness, and you are within your right to be apprehensive. I didn't leave on the best terms. But I assure you, we have not come to harm the family nor the grove—quite the opposite."

His grip stopped where it was but did not so readily ease.

"Then why have you come?"

She experienced his emotions like streams; he was filled with conflicting feelings. She could perceive spurts of fury and pride in his duty and sadness. Seeing Kilik again after all this time was hard for him. Memories of their time as children ebbed into him against his will, but he could not fold. His duty was to ensure they were not deterred.

"Izzy..."

His eyes flashed with fury, in a flash of speed that tok them all by surprise he was upon Kilik his spear inches away from her throat, she though chose not to respond.

"Don't Kilik! You...You don't get to come back here and pull on heartstrings! YOu abandoned us...the chief...he was shattered."

Kilik's gaze did not leave him; she made no sudden movements, the glittering sparkle of his spearhead, the mixture of passion and anger with notes of hurt behind his glare.

"We've only just begun to get a sense of normalcy again. The chief...he's finally started smiling again. He's at peace, Kilik; We are at peace..."

Despite their sting and anger, Kilik did not brush his words to the side. She received his lamentation and understood the reluctance within him. She had learned to ignore her emotions to temper her blade further, even more so to ignore the feelings of others, for Kilik understood that people's perceptions of you are their burden to bear and are not reflective of who she was nor how she saw herself as an entity and yet, his word eats through her training and all her conditioning. But she knew what he did not: a storm was coming to Maidera; no, it had already arrived, and their calm and peace of mind was temporary. Now that she had gazed into the eyes of the Emperor himself, Kili was, if nothing else, absolved of all doubt concerning his ambitions.

"And I come seeking only to protect that peace, Izz-Izmodan. We have left our weapons behind; I only wish to talk to my father..or must I invoke Vel'Zechar?"

Despite her pleas and the genuineness of her intentions, he refused to relent until she mentioned Vel'Zechar. His spear slowly retracted from her throat, accompanied by a deep sigh. Damn this girl, it seems her knowledge of the family's customs has not been as hindered as her native tongue. The mere mentioning of its name demanded the attention of the Elder, and though she was an outcast, she still was of Nissagro blood. It was her, right... he clicked a few times, and at that moment, from behind the myriad of trees and crevices, more than 30 other Nissagro appeared, the light seeming to bend away from them, revealing their presence and forms. The squad looked perplexed; they had mistaken many for trees and fauna. Their anthem was a powerful one indeed.

"Fine, I will personally accompany you and your party to the chief domain; this goes without saying, but your...friends better mind their manners; the ocean has many eyes...and arms."

The tension resolved, at least enough for them to fear an attack. He commanded half of the present guard to remain at the gate and to call upon him should any other intruders appear. If they did, they were to be dealt with swiftly, and accordingly, only Kilik's party would be granted the leniency to enter their most sacred place—the Heart of the grove. He would send a scout ahead to inform the city of their coming and prepare themselves if things would go left. Kilik remained calm and stoic; she was pleased they immediately avoided confrontation. Her people were loyal to the grove, and it's said to be a fault; it was swift thinking her manipulation of the rite to smooth their entry. But the most challenging part of this mission had yet to pass...

As time went by, they eventually made their way deep within the Emerald Grove, eventually coming across a massive gate guarded by two other Atlanteans. They immediately recognized Izzy but were weary of his company and crossed their spears, barring further passage. The guard on the left recognized Kilik, which depended on his reluctance to their passage. He decided to speak in common with Vescrutian, wanting them to understand him and his refusal without flaw.

Guard 1: Izmodan, what is this? Why have you abandoned your post?

Izzy's face reflected an irritated countenance; he had to oblige.

Guard 2: You dunce, remember the scout's report.

Guard 1: Oh right, the outsider and the finless...

Kilik was growing impatient with the flippant use of this derogatory term against her, but she would have to be like well-forged steel if she could get through this without blood on her hand. Her vision spoke of her goal being reached by standing atop a mountain of corpses...she did not wish to count the skulls of her family among them, so she chose not to speak, having said enough to validate her claims so far.

"She threatens to invoke the Rite Of Blood; as a Nissagro and the daughter of a chieftain, I could not refuse her."

Their eyes widened at the mentoring of the rite. They could understand why Izzy brought her here if she would go that far to meet with the chief.

Guard 1: Yeah, but what did she do?

Guard 2: You idiot, remember what happened the last time she lost her cool? Do you want to be the one to go up against that? I'd take my chances with the chief.

Hethra was fascinated by what they were speaking of. Just what happened here last time? They spoke of her as if she was some monster. Sure, even Hethra was weary of her at first. Kilik's fearsome displays of magical might were frightening to witness; even the deadly glare of her gaze was enough to keep the more seasoned healers away from her. However, Hethra felt something entirely different from Kilik, and that betrayed the way she saw Kilik navigate the world. An almost mystical allure, a powerful one, but for the young sylvan, she could only discern the sound of the ocean's shore when she heard Kilik's heartbeat....and the sadness deep within.

"Worry not; should she even flinch with too much zeal, she will be skewered without hesitation. You have my word as a guardian."

Kilik's eyes remained soundly on the gate. Their passive threats and concerns paled compared to her interest in the mystic majesty of the barrier that protected Mingara. She spent many days observing how it ebbed with the waves, guarding the homeland within its influence. A memory, like a flash, came over her. Standing before the gate with her father, she remembered much more minor than now. Her hand was in his massive palm, and he dwarfed her stature, yet it always made her feel so safe. She could see his face so clearly, smiling as they reminded her about her mother, him telling her that even though she's gone physically, her spirit helps protect us to this day. He always tried his best to bring her grieving heart some solace. Just as quickly as the vision came, it faded.

Guard 1: Fine, we will remove the lock.

Both guards would muster naten, pulling in a bit of the surrounding water and light and inscribing their spears with the energy they traveled along the shaft of their weapons, coagulating at the tip. They would perform a series of slightly hypotonic twirls and odd movement patterns before the magic whipped up a whirlpool of mystic influences. The in total union embued the power they gathered into the crystals of the gate. The resonance of this method revealed a plethora of glyphs that would force the light to recede, showing the city.

"Burn this image in your mind, landwalkers; you shant ever see it again. Welcome to Mingara.

As the party entered the city, Hethra's eyes lit up with wonder. She was one of the first of her kind to see what life under the Madeiran seas was like, and she never expected an entirely functioning city. The structure was crafted from the same material as the reef; to think life beneath the waves was as advanced as this, to the young Dryad, the depth of her well of inspiration depended ever more so. Kilik's eyes reflected a mixture of nostalgia and conflict that swiftly dissipated into nonchalant. As they made their way through the bustling paradise, they witnessed many Atlanteans working hard at work performing their duties. The squad could feel their stares, more than aware that they were not welcome here. Still, they persisted in eventually arriving at the tallest spire in the city, The Umbral Monesary. Here, the training and refinement of the Nissagro monkhood is practiced. A march towards discipline, a journey of mastery, all to defend the grove and protect its legacy. She could hear the solum hymns of the Ur spoken, the songs of worship of the wave mother herself. Within her, Ovryn churns in bliss,

"Ah, Vitchka, long since I've heard the beauty of the sea-born's songs. So thick in the fog of my anger, their words sullied by wrath. "

Kilik's hand went over her heart; she never expected to witness Orvyn...happy. It made it harder somehow, but she wasn't here to tear this peace asunder; no, she was here to protect her people and guide them to a brighter, longer future. They were barred from entering. Instead, they were met by the total attendance of hundreds of skilled acolytes. She figured as much to let outsiders into their most sacred space; it was hoping for too much.

"Petculant, as always. Somehow, I knew..."

It was a robust tone that nearly sent Kilik's heart skipping out of her chest. The uniformed monks would divide down the middle, pathing the way for a man who was a veritable giant in presence, a goliath amongst ants. His stature spoke of eons of discipline, a form as stern as stone with a subtle grace. His scales carry a weighted gleam that began to wane over time. In comparison to Izzy, they were but paltry pieces of stone. His right arm was missing, a wound that pained Kilik to see, yet he moved seemingly unperturbed by it like he hadn't lost an ounce of strength.

"That it was you, Kilik. Who else would toss around our eldest and most sacred rites as if they were trifles but one who forsook them."

In her mind, Kilik was that same little horse running up after her father constantly. She mimicked him, even taking his form to be more like him. She admired his courage, shi strength, and wisdom. He was slow to anger and even slower to fight, but when he did, he revealed himself to be a master of his craft. All those virulences were soon to be lost, for with her eyes, Kilik could see. Clear rot, nearing the end of a Nissagro's life cycle, causes its scales to lose color as all light begins to fade. It had taken her father's vision—the little girl in her reach out, wanting to console him and touch his face.

"Father..."

She said, fighting back the urge to reach for him, her eyes trailing to where his arm used to be. His face was solum as rock, still as a waveless sea. His composure was kept despite how it must have felt to see her again—his one and only child. And yet, she could not read his emotions, a fortress of a man. On the other hand, he has a splendid spear adorned with the scales of the fallen chiefs from whom he inherited his role. Zera, the sea pericer. It was an ancient weapon that has been said to have existed since the first of their kind gained their calling from the planet itself. It symbolized their sacred mission to protect the grove and all it represented and provided. An ancestral treasure that was once supposed to be hers. But that time had long passed.

"You will address me properly, outsider. Or you will not address me at all.."

His eyes opened, revealing a milky grey gaze with an almost otherworldly beauty. It tugged at Kilika's soul to see the light fading from them.

" Abbot Valefar. You pledged your hatred of all surface walkers for what they did to your mother. Now you return, disgraced, with an armada of them with you. How much farther, this abyss you wallow in? How much further will you sink before you've slaked your thirst? What more will you sully."

Kilik's eyes narrowed; he was not wrong; she shared his same disgust when before she even set foot on B'halia. But it was, in fact, a landwalker who ushered her along her training to master the blade and her speech. She would not have gained something sitting here in this underwater mire of a city. Their complacency in Vescrtuia's voiceless chain of life would eventually see them another forgotten part of it before long. As technology on the surface advanced and their vies for power intensified, the waste from their factories and cities polluted the ocean, corrupting the groves. Even with the Nisagro working themselves to death to purify the waters, they do not have the time needed to make any real change. Their population was dying fast.

"Abbot, forgive me for the intrusion. But I've come with urgency. Above us, right now, an invasion is happening. A campaign that would see mankind wiped from this earth and our sea saved. You need only consider."

His grip tightened, and the slightest spurt of emotion sent a chilling wave of intention through Nissagro's body. Kilik would not falter, though.

"Mankind? The humans are not the ones who killed your mother..."

She gritted her teeth.

"I'm aware of that; Venkage is fae..."

"So why are you wasting my time..."

He was talking her into a box, an irritating habit of his. She could never express a complete thought without him trying to predict her emotions and responses.

"Fuck! Just because you think you know what I'm about to say doesn't mean it belongs to you to speak it! .... hear me for once!"

Her minor outburst took him back. She was trying hard to keep her emotions in check, but speaking with her father since she matured became like pulling teeth out of a Lionfox's mouth.

"When mom died... I felt my soul shatter into pieces. I missed her so much I couldn't stand to hear her scold me again; that pain nearly drove me insane...and you, abbot, paid dearly for my grief."

"And now you so selfishly ask."

"Let me finish!"

She barked

"Then, those fragments shattered even more, like everything I loved became dust in my hands. Not only was I too dumb and naive to see that my mother was rushing off to her death. My foolishness hurt my father in the end. Just thinking I would lose you both, I could not hold that burden for the millennia."

Kilik could not prevent her emotions from ebbing from her. The other Nissagro around her could feel the sway of her feelings; many were unmoved, but a few sympathized with her pain. The Abbot himself did not budge; he remained steadfastly stoic.

"I didn't realize it then, but I was just foolishly following in my mother's footsteps and running off into the jaws of death to escape the pain of that grief. Willing to sacrifice anything to take the hurt away. I infiltrated a Neovian festival where I saw him...Zero Venkage. But...as I was, a petulant child blinded by hatred, I couldn't touch him, not in a million years. A convoy from B'halia, however, was also in attendance."

Her fist tightened before her.

"Was I skeptical? Of course? Did I feel like I was betraying my vow? Of course... but then I remembered who and what I was. And suddenly, my understanding and purpose became much bigger than my revenge. I am the chosen of the Wave Bringer, our patron and stewardess. It was B'halia who gave me the means to appease the viciousness of the ocean itself."

"Impossible..."

He moved closer to her. The same torrential beast that claimed his arm now resided within his child, free from her madness. Kilik stood before her father, bold, and the ebb and flow of her naten mirrored, seemingly surpassing his own.

"The great dragon mother's mind has been lost to her fury since she first chose a mortal vessel to house her. We have sung and prayed for her safe return to sanity, yet her grief is too great for us to puncture. You mean to stand here and tell me the landwalker succeeded where we failed...."

Kilik's gaze did not sfoten at his query, his proedjuce was preventing him from truly grapsing the enormaity of what she was saying.

"No, I am telling you I succeeded where you all failed, yet B'halia was the catalyst. They did not change me; there was no reeducation, no brainwashing. A course forged by my blood and sweat. They did not erase my native traits...they built upon it and showed me that I could stand tall on the foundation of my strength to gleam what I sought from this world. I did not bend my knee to the emperor because I viewed him as a savior or the answer to all my problems. I chose B'halia because they saw my strength and, instead of encouraging me to make myself small, to walk in the greatness of what this planet has gifted me."

"!!!"

"We have lived the lives of mites and bottom feeders when we possess the soul of titans! If you aim to protect these groves, do you honestly think you will do so as you are? The groves run black, the stream tarnished. Going as you are now...you will fail your mission and go extinct."

Izzy gripped his spear, making hearing Kilik's heresy more challenging.

" I can see that you are telling the truth. Your eyes, they have traded hatred for purpose...but unfortunately, that is not enough."

Kilik's body tensed before they could pick up on it. She could perceive the sudden subtle ripple of his naten churning to life. It immediately sent her into defense mod. A second later, the other nissagro began to make more room, understanding the emotions coming from their leader.

"What If we refuse? Are you prepared to slaughter us all? Will this empoer come here? His armies are taking us out. If we do not bend to the crack of his whip,"

The squad member became defensive. It seemed like the negation had fallen through after all. Hethra, though, did not get as anxious in them. She merely watched to see how Kilik would handle this. Her composure made the others calm down. All eyes were on their squad leader.

"He will not have to do anything; the disorder of this world has already entangled the Nissagro into a twisted web of inevitable destruction. In the next few centuries....you will all become crust on the ocean floor...He is offering you."

"Better for nature to have its way than the will of a tyrant."

"Nature way...heh..fine..."

"Kilik..."

"Have faith, Orvyn. W e show them, together."

Kilik's naten began to stir solemnly around her, sending sharp, intense pulsations of her will spreading through the city. It is foreboding and casts a wave of anxiousness through them all.

"I was wondering when your true face would show itself. Don't waste your breath on another word; show Kilik the limits of your convictions...I, Abbot Valefar, invoke Vel'Zechar."

Kilik's eyes widened as the crisp gasp of those collected gave way to a thick silence. She merely used it as a bluff to get here without confrontation; she never respected one of them invoking the rite against her, let alone her father. Her entire body became tense. Her sword being back on the ship was one of the many thoughts that went through her.

"We came here without weapons to avoid a fight."

Hethra said to Izzy in a tone that demanded he understood. Though he did, it was a choice above him, as the abbot himself wished it to be so.

"When have you ever needed a weapon to be dangerous, Kilik."

Her eyes drifted to the side at his missing arm. She gripped hers. She could feel the weariness of her squad; not only this, but she worried about how rejecting such a challenge in front of them would affect their morale. Even before, B'halia Kilik was never one to back down from a fight, no matter who the challenger was. But here, at this moment, she found herself reluctant. This was her father; the last time they crossed paths, they nearly killed each other.

"Squad Leader..."

The Joro, Zora, from earlier spoke up.

"Give em hell..."

Kilik's eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder toward her squad. Half-cracked smirks and head nods of affirmations from them all; even the elder disapproving Cyr agreed. That was when it all came back to her: a flash flood of memories and emotions concerning the last two years of her journey away from home. Her meeting with Eralia, when she first landed on B'halian soil, serving the Safraberry, her keening of Shinjustu every face, every bone is broken, every life taken to prove herself to find the boundaries of her limits and dare to go beyond them. She stood in front of Valefar, not as his daughter.

"You'll give me 100 reps when we return home, cadet."

She said as he got back in line, each of them smirking affirmingly towards each other. The abbot noted this; it seemed she had fostered some form of respect with her new home. As her father, that made his heart glad, but as the leader of the grove, it was his duty to safeguard the monastery and those who depended on it.

" Do. You. Accept."

He asked pointedly. She ceased her trepidacious behavior, remembering the stance she had to maintain while her body filtered the planet stream through her.

"I, Kilik, Leader of Special Platoon 5 of the B'halian Empire, Accept."

From Behind the Abbot, a series of Nisagro carry drum-like instruments appeared. The Loch Rythmist, drums made from the scales of their breath, used to exalt ceremonies within the grove. And this, one of their most ancient rites, demanded it. With each strike of the procession, did the feelings of the clan become palpable? The abbot ushered them to the training area within the monetary; it was a coliseum Esq domain where the others could watch the monks in silent observance of their journey. It was also the place they spared. It would here their bout would be settled.

Hethra, in her curiosity, asked Izzy what the rite was all about. To which he begrudgingly answered.

"Vel'Zechar, The Rite Of First Blood. Nissagro is a steward of the grove who pursues strength and enlightenment in our lives to protect our land. We are far from Pacifist and will not hesitate to use that power to defend our livelihood. Though the Abbot is well respected and we received guidance from him, he is not our monarch; we have no King and Queen...the mightiest and proven most dedicated of us is given the title. Should one disagree with the Abbot, one may use the Rite Of First blood to determine the outcome. The one who draws the first blood wins. They can even replace the Abbot should they choose, but if the Abbot wins, he decides that person's fate.

"What do you mean..."

Izzy eyes glossed over with solemn resolve.

"For them to stay, be banished, or executed."

"Simple enough, Our leader is crazy strong. Plus, the old guy is blind. Look at him."

Izzy smirked confidently before chuckling slightly.

"Yes, Kilik is quite powerful. I'd even go so far as to say she's much stronger than she was years ago, but even so, the Abbot is the longest-lived of our Kind, a master among. He is the descendant of a prophetess. Though Clear rot has taken his eyes, Abbot Valefar does not need his eyes to be a threat; Kilik knows this most of all."

"But wasn't she the one that took his arm?"

"Indeed, but that resulted from him trying to restrain her; the Abbot was holding back. But now, with the rite invoked and the future of our people on the line, he knows that even against his only blood, he cannot yield."

"I see..."

Kilik understood this better than anyone. Her father's life energy was as strong as ever, if not stronger than it was then. He had the might to go against a dragon and come out alive. She could not underestimate him, but though he had such power, Kilik herself was a dragon.

"If You truly have mastered the ocean fury, then keeping yourself from killing me while I try to kill you should be completely possible..."

"Heh, well, father, you managed to surprise me. Fine, but let it not be said I didn't try the diplomatic route."

She said as she placed the appropriate space between her and the abbot. Despite the intensity of it all, Kilik, deep down, revealed that she got to face him in battle once more. Though in a fit of madness, she remembered the ferocity with which her father fought and the unrelenting tenacity of his calculated methods. The daughter in her lamented the situation, but the warrior in her practically was finally pouncing at the chance to show the difference in their strength. Izzy served as the intermediary of the ceremony. As they repaired, Kilik began to center herself. Remembering when she first encountered General Roux and the rousing words he had for her.

“You chose not to kill Qalen.. You chose to withhold your full strength despite his clear weakness. Why?” The General asked plainly, not shifting an inch from his meditative position as he opened his eyes; a pair of still, blue ovals searched Kilik's face for the answers hidden beneath her words. Qalen was visibly nonplussed by these words, but instead of responding, he remained silent.

"For so long, I've feared my power, like it would swallow me up. Because everyone around me feared me, I thought I had been cursed..."

Kilik began to slow her breathing.

"Kilik." The General uttered, his blue eyes resting on hers. "If the extent of your potential does not scare you, then you do not have enough of it. But do not allow fear to dissuade you from power. Your true power."

"But I have accepted the mistakes of my past. The daughter you knew, the little girl angry at the world, is long gone...For I dream now a new dream. To see a world where nature thrives...and if your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough."

Kilik's naten began to surface, her form emanating an ardent cobalt aura, her typical naten expression, her gaze stiffen to that of her draconic glare and with it a dazzling shift from blue to coral pink hue. She could feel the life flow for mile son end; here in her natural domain, her shinjustu felt especially potent. She decided to lead with it first, knowing she would have to come with her best foot forward right from the start. As Kilik's body became the catalyst for the natural energy around her, the Abbot would be seen with a stern expression, but one that carried intriguing notes. He could decide the metal of forces around them, but what he witnessed from Kilik was... awe-inspiring. Even now, the feel of her magic could completely overwhelm even Izmodan, who could be seen gritting his teeth. And yet, as grand as the mystical influence of her aura was, it was not the rabid torrent of vicious, untamed fury he was accustomed to. Its magnitude remained but now emulated the crushing fury of a towering waterfall. She had grown much...

"You have become strong...more refined; it's commendable"

The water encompassed Valefar as it had done thousands of times before. Nissagro possesses many traits, and their anthem branches into other water-based abilities. However, her father was unique. He was a sea druid, one of the few of the druid order tethered to the natural domain of the ocean. It had been ages since anyone had seen him use his druidic abilities in mass. Today, one of the oldest kinds of Nissagro magic will be shown. Those born with this talent are known as Alpha; Izzy was also to inherit the teachings instead of Kilik, who he originally planned to pass his magic onto. As the waters released him, his form would be completely different, reminiscent of a shark-like entity. Though still missing, his arm took little away from the fearsome presence, and neither did his lack of normal vision. His magic aura exuded like a mountainous downpour of pure power. His physical conditioning over the last 100 years, which was double the normal policy of her people, allowed him to go beyond the limit of his kin. With no mutation to speak of, he, more so than Kilik, was the purest representation of what the Nissago could achieve with enough time, for he embodied the primal essence of the ocean lifeforms.

"I am ready."

Kilik looked over to Izmodan.

"As am I."

"Then let the Rite of First Blood; COMMENCE!"

Kilik and her father exchanged solemn glares as Izzy withdrew from the arena. Each of them has their point to prove, and their purpose is to protect. In perfect unison, they both went into the Zorasu fighting stance. Their movements are entirely in sync. Naturally, he was the one who taught it to her. He could not help but smirk at their synchronized moments. How he remembered the days she was glued to his side. His little girl is now a fearsome warrior. Despite the tension's intensity, both were calm and stoic. Zorasu was a battle style that centered around using the aggression of one's opponent against them; neither of them wished to give the other the advantage of being able to respond. In a fight between Nissago, there was a unique way to assess their opponents. Before Valefar, the light seemed to reflect, shaping before him an incarnation of his visage; Kilik followed suit and produced a living visage of herself. These phantoms lunged for each other as they engaged in a battle of hypotheses. They were clashing against each other in a series of possibilities.

First

Second


Third


One by one, each of Kilik's pathos was obliterated. She knew her father was strong, but this, there were no gaps, no crevices to exploit in his form. Regardless of who she was, the aggressor, Valefar's overall prowess outclassed her in each hypothetical exchange they shared, showing only her defeat. Those in attendance watched in an awe-struck stupor, witnessing two masters engage in this unique image training—a dazzling exhibition of naten control and mental strength. Hethra, in particular, was beyond amazed; she never knew the extent of the Nissagro anthem, but to see the scope, it could manipulate light. It gave her an idea that she might share with Kilik later if they succeed. Failure here meant that the road thus traveled would have been forged for nothing; if she had led her entire life on hypotheticals, she would still be here chanting with them instead of being in the field actively trying to bring their hardships to an end. Overthinking it wouldn't solve her problems, and if she was being true to herself, it wasn't her style.

"Guessing will get me nowhere..."

She said that as the last of her phantoms were crushed by his own, she decided that this war of wills would only result in her drubbing folly. Thus, she decided to start the combat herself. Though the Zorasu style was powerful, it had a single pivotal flaw. Kilik knew them both and sought to exploit them fully.

"He is strong, Kilik; there is a reason none other has held the title of Abbot in over a century but he."

Orvyn's voice, as august as her being, came to mind of her chosen.

"He is; even from here, I can feel his intensity; the moment I strike, he will, without a doubt, try to kill me."

"I offer you but this spec of advice. Even the mightiest wave can give way to a ripple..."

"Our thoughts are becoming more aligned by the day..."

The affirmation she needed was to put her skills to the test. Without a second thought, Kilik took off quickly; her naten enlivened her scales as she sent a brutal left-hand strike towards him charged with power. Before Kilik could fully register his movements in a fluid motion that betrayed her awareness of time, he had displaced the might of her strike and countered it with a fervent palm strike to her chest. The force of his blow rippled through her body.

"I told you, Kilik...."

That blow would have blown a hole through her if she had been anyone else. Instead, the intenseness devasted her, but she mustered through the pain; the force of the strike forced her back. However, before she could regain her barring, Valefar cut through the waters like a sharpened blade, appearing to her right with the ferocity of a shark who smelled blood. His leg was already extended, unleashing a right kick with enough calculated might to shatter stone without flaw.

"I will hold nothing back, not for you, nor any threat to the grove; that is my calling, my sacred mission. Even if it means felling my spawn."

Kilik, having virtually no time to respond, should have been panicking for her life after that first strike. However, her admiration of her father went beyond just mirroring him; she had studied him her entire life, been forged and tempered by him, and knew his patterns. The flaw in her father's prowess was not one that any old outsider could exploit, but one who understood the unwavering, unchanging ways of the Nissago knew that by design, he would follow up with this kick.

"And I told you!"

As the kick was about to land, Kilik's scales from the side not being attacked shifted, gathering at the place of impact. Though her petit frame might look fragile, Kilik was still a dragon, and her scales were exceptionally durable against physical force, more significant than his stone-crushing power; though not invulnerable, her defensive aptitude was sumptuous, and with the amount of control and the uncanny speed her scale regenerated, she was able to move and recreate them as she saw fit, one of the few differences between her and typical specimens of her kind. Using this to her advantage, she fortified the area her father attacked, allowing her to shoulder the might of his frightening strike.

"I am not your ignorant little girl anymore!"

At its core, Zorasu is about turning an opponent's force against them, but two things are needed to perform this. One is durability; you must be able to shoulder the force you wish to repurpose. The other is to possess an overwhelming might of your own. Her father, a peerless master of Zorasu, though his strength was mountainous, Kilik herself was far from powerless; she is the last of a legacy that has defied the brutality of time, that last of an aged form of life that can impact the world with word alone. The young nissagro's body became enchanted in a thick veil. Its release invites the world to move, unleashing her wyrm-speech's full force , invigorating her being.

"Noa Banyu; Hokostu"

Typically, Kilik would have muffled the power of her invocation by using Kira to weaken the output and backlash of her magic. However, through her training with shinjustu, Kilik has become a sturdier container for her potency. When she first arrived in B'halia, she could only use an undiluted spell once before the backlash struck her with extreme exhaustion. After eight months of constant training, Kilik could unleash the unbridled brunt of her invocation four consistently before the strain became too much. Hyokostu, the Primordial word for "Enhancement," provided a boon that improved her physical prowess. She can increase her speed, durability, and reflexes by suffusing her body with magic used in conjunction with Shinjustu, which more than doubles the already impressive buff, making Kilik powerful enough to crush a diamond in her hand. Though temporary, this boost would be precisely what she needed to turn the tide of this battle in her favor; with her father's leg in her firm grasp, she sent her below, crashing into it, shattering his knee into pieces.

His howls of agony were withheld, but Kilik could feel the pain in him; she did not stop; her time in the empire had made her come to peace with the ruthlessness she must exude in battle. Her sympathy for her opponent, no matter their mortal ties, must be severed in that fray, allowing nothing to impede her path. Her sudden display of contained strength temporarily impaired his judgment and primed him for Kilik's ferocious follow-up attack. She inhaled a deep breath, a glyph manifesting on her throat, her eyes blistering with mystic might as she released her spell.

"Noa Banyu; Sea Mothers Bawl!"

From her mouth, an acute pulse of water magic emerged with the full passion of the Wave Bringer's primal vigor, sending a concentrated burst stream of compressed water with the force of a wrecking ball. Valefar eyes widened as he braced for impact, the spell barreling into in with excessive ardor. The explosion of force caused a spume of bubbles, preventing her from seeing him.

"Well, well, I think you broke a few of my ribs; no, I'm sure you have."

As the bubbles subsided, Valefar stood tall, seemingly unaffected by Kilik's onslaught, much to Kilik's dismay. It was strange seeing such a glare in her father's eyes; she remembered the days when those beautifully blue eyes were once filled with kindness and passion. He and her mother were polar opposites. She was the stern, serious one, and he was the easy-going hippie. But after she died, his heart became colder, and he clung to the teachings and mission above all other things. Kilik, though, never resented him for that; it was the fact that he would rather stay here in the groves to challenge the world that threatens them; she felt he was half clinging to his resolve and using her mother's death as a cop-out for his inaction. She would prompt him to respond.

"We needn't wait for a problem to appear on our shores to address it; complacency has forced you into submission, Father; I chose to respond. This is the result of my convictions, the burden of my mission, as the bearer of the last primordial of water, it is my duty to protect all the seas of Vescrutia, not just the groves...your fear is not mine..."

The abbot's flesh became enveloped in a glowing fluid, the natural salve of the Nissagro accelerating the body's healing factor. The feature and shattered knee healed in a matter of moments. It was a thing to behold how advanced his particular factor was despite his advanced age rivaling Kilik's, which saved her from a virulent flamnado before.

"Fear? Ha...Perhaps you are right...yes...fear. And yet, as usual, You seem to forget your pedestal of privilege, your nose so far in the air you are practically sniffing the clouds. How grand it must be, a boon that grants you nigh unending life, Kilik; your perception of time is nothing like we, who, on average, live no more than 50 years. I may be one of the few to live longer, but the clear rot will soon take me. We have spent all our existence protecting these groves, and should Vescrtuia deem it fit, we will wither away with them!"

" Who told you it had to be that way?! I would never disparage our tomes and teachings, but who forged these ideals? Vescrutia?! It is time we take a step back and look at the whole picture; all life originated from the seas; we are the glue that holds the world together. B'halia has reminded me of my place in the natural world; humanity and those aligned with them are a plague threatening the mother, not just the seas! If this alliance meant you could save the groves, usher in an age of unpredicted prosperity for them, and assure them that nothing could take that from you, why would you reject it? Do...you, do you know nothing of why mom risked her life?"

The mention of his late wife struck a nerve, and for the first time, Abbot's emotions were worn on his sleeve, making him as bright as a sun to Kilik despite the bubble that impeded her vision. Beyond the veil of his stoicism, Kilik's words were beginning to chip away at him.

"Tread lightly...girl"

In that instance, his tone became callous, like the calm before the storm, and the pressure of his musical influence fell over them all, signifying the end of the training wheels. She was walking into dangerous territory. Kilik shouldered, though, the weight of this massive force with her resilience. She would not back down from him; her days of biting her tongue to sanitize his pacifism had ended.

"Keep your threats! I will tread where I please! She was my mother...she was important to me, too, damn it! Say what you wish. The start of my journey may have been foolhardy, but at least I did not cower behind the groves while my family ran off to die alone!"

Kilik's words hit him like a sledgehammer through a wall. His fist tightened as the waters swirled around him, the bubble dispersing under the might of his menacing presence.

"Impudent little girl....you have no idea, not even an inkling, the depths of my sorrow, the hungering hatred in my heart...She might've been your mother...

His voice priced through the cumbersome pressure like a blade through butter, this invocation producing a magic ripple that all those sensitive to naten would be able to register. Though void of color, his eyes glared down his daughter with a vicious scowl; he had been angered. Kilik could instantly feel the depth of his magic swelling from within him, his warrior's spirit like a fervent maelstrom threatening to devour them all.

" BUT SHE WAS MY WIFE!"

As the waters surged around him, his body controlled and built before his form shifted again. The waters engulfed him like a cocoon, and from the sphere, several massive tendrils emerged from it, thrashing about the top of the monastery. A Kraken is one of the most fearsome beasts of the seas, for told in legends as a destroyer of vessels and guardian of the waves. Kilik's eyes filled with the unique gleam of terror, a feeling she seldom felt, but before this massive incarnation of primal rage, something she never thought possible from her once docile father had given rise to her intrinsic nature as an elv...kill or be killed.

"DON'T SPEAK OF HER, NOT WHILE YOU WEAR HER FACE!"

Kilik was the spitting image of her mother. The day Kilik left was like watching his love leave twice. His heart could bear these things in cold silence no longer. Despite the ferocity of his assault, she refused to retract her words. It was time it all came to a head; they hadn't even spoken a word of her death since she passed, and Kilik was personally tired of walking around with repressed emotions and lingering regrets. Before she could respond to him, one of the tentacles grabbed her, flinging her off into the distance beyond the city's bound. Even in his daunting rage, he would not risk destroying his home; the power behind his grab was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Had it not been for her enchantment and natural constitution, she might've been crushed by his grip alone nigh instantly.

As she was flung through the waters, she crashed straight into several large rock formations, the impact reducing them to rubble. With speed betraying his enormity, he unleashed an unrelenting barrage of vicious strikes, each with increasingly devasting power. Encapsulating her in a tumultuous gridlock of deadly attacks. Despite her magic being active and improved by her shinjustu, the damage she was beginning to sustain was almost piercing, as if her defenses were nothing as if she meant nothing. His raw heart and pent-up fury bleeds into a sea, allowing them to feel his emotions.

For two years now, he had suppressed his thoughts and emotions of the loss of his wife, the pain of nearly losing his only child, and his duty to the grove all in a fortnight. He had been vigorously immersing himself in nothing but his training and the cultivation of his people and their protection. He was spending the last moments of his fleeting life cycle with the prosperity of the goal being his only welcomed thought. It was how he had to be; if he let himself fall into the depths of his madness or give in to his anger the grove, he feared what terror might be unleashed.

But he could hold it in no longer. Not with his past staring back at him with such a condescending and judgemental glare. It was as if this girl, barely a decade old, could understand the hurt in his heart. The loss of his one true love...his rising sun, his setting moon. They had spent practically their whole life with each other and promised to meet their end. But the meddling of the land wakers destroyed that wish, and now he only has memories of what was and crumbled remnants of what should have been...and now this girl wants him to prostrate himself before the kin of the creatures who stole his joy? Kilik was a constant reminder of the many things he'd lost to the surface; now, he was also losing his daughter to it.

"I WOULD SOONER SEE YOU DEAD BEFORE A PAWN OF THE SURFACE!"