Arthurian Cultivation

"The lightning Knight is coming by for another run, on the outside of Archimedes.” Gaz’s voice came through both air and water, the water sounding far deeper as the earring vibrated his message.

“Gawain, get yourself and that damn bird in the dome.” A bellow shouted out from the melee. The Fire Inquisitor took that momentary lapse of attention to form a technique. The fire became a pair of giant snakes, two tornados of air glamour working with fire to create a lashing demon of flame. I could see Bors' defiant silhouette as pillars of stone rose to battle them.

Despite my fear of the Inquisitor, I trusted in Bors. Neither Fire nor Air gifts excelled against Earth, especially if the cultivator refused to take to the sky.

The earth shook as Bors charged at the Inquisitor of Fire. As he thundered forward into the flame, his feet tore out lumps of earth. Each clump rose up his body, layering on top of his plate to turn him from a juggernaut to a landslide.

He plunged into the swirling flames, and from within I could hear titanic crashes. The fire was pushed back, winking out as quickly as it arrived. The fire was not gone, though. Around us, trees were alight, casting flickering chaotic shadows on our battlefield.

How could I help? I felt my heart clench at facing such powerful foes. I wanted to hide, even as my fear fuelled the control that pushed me onwards.

Hiding was good. Actually, hiding was excellent. I grabbed the smoke from the wet trees forced to ignite by the Inquisitor's technique. I plunged my power into the ash of our collected campfires. I dragged everything down upon us and blanketed us all in smoke. I left a tunnel for Gawain and Archimedes, to guide them towards us.

“Lightning Knight approaching,” Gaz shouted.

Gawain, in battered armour and even looking exhausted, had enough power left to pull on a grand gust of wind to bowl his bird at us. The air was so tightly controlled that my smoke was only disturbed by the bird's flailing as it was sent hurtling. The feathered missile tumbled into the dome, its once regal looks marred by ruffled feathers and spots of blood. Its eyes tried to focus on us before it collapsed onto its back.

A lightning bolt crashed through where Archimedes had just been, with Gawain dodging to the side.

“Uncover the infidels, Marcus. I shall strike them down,” the lightning inquisitor yelled to his compatriot.

Battling Bors, the Inquisitor Marcus had little attention to give, so he could only send out haphazard gusts. Smoke did not resist air. I could make it flow against the wind using glamour, but the power of an Iron Rank was not so easily ignored. Each gust of wind tore deep rents in my smoke.

I didn't bother trying to fight it. Why would I? I found fire cultivators rarely understood smoke well. Air cultivators sometimes got it, but this one's studies must've been lacking, as all he did was empower me.

Each gust of air dragged in new air, which in a training environment would normally be fresh. But if you're the kind of idiot who sets the damp wet forest around him on fire, all you get is more smoke. If anything, the smoke was thicker now than when he started.

I lost the tunnel to Gawain but cleared the area around him. He was the only one of us in the smoke blinded by it. Gaz had his sound gift helping him, Bors had earth sense, and I of course had the smoke itself. Lance was out there somewhere, waiting for her opportunity. If the general shouting and cursing was anything to go by, our opponents were not so lucky.

My smoke was an extension of my sense of touch. The fire Inquisitor and Bors were tearing through it like whips. I could feel the techniques going off through my glamour sense. It was unpleasant to know just how different our level of power was. They were throwing out attacks that would've consumed everything I had like they were nothing.

Hunting about, I could feel the Inquisitor's wounded bird brushing against the edge of the smoke. One wing, vainly flapping, tried to clear the smoke. What it cultivated I had no idea, but I didn’t like it just hanging about. Not wanting it to get any ideas, I sent another couple of arrows its way, and it squawked in complaint.

Gawain, who’d been catching his breath, heard it and stalked towards the sound, sword out.

“Lightning is back.”

The lightning Inquisitor flew overhead, raining down lightning strikes, briefly setting all the smoke aglow. Lucky for us, the dome was more than enough to hold out. All gifts were, at their core, the same as their mundane counterparts. Fire went up, smoke moved with the wind, and lightning sought the earth.

It took energy to get a gift to do things it didn’t want to, and lighting was no exception. He’d have to get closer than that to try and hit us directly.

Beside us, the battle between Bors and the Fire Inquisitor was cooling down, if only because the Inquisitor seemed to have realised he was contributing to blinding his ally. He was dodging chunks of crystal and hammer blows by flinging himself about with his air gift. As he did, the Inquisitor extinguished the fires in the trees, condensing that flame down to tiny spheres and then launching them at Bors.

The heat of each exploding marble stung my face. Even through the smoke, I saw an earthen shield Bors hid behind start to glow from the heat that was being unleashed. We needed to get the lightning Inquisitor off his mount so we could help. A fresh barrage of fire sucked on the air greedily, sending my smoke swirling. If I was more powerful, I’d have been able to smother the bastard.

As I was now? Our cover would soon be gone, and then the pair would focus on Bors. Gawain seemed wounded, at least I hoped the Knight didn't normally struggle to kill a wounded fae beast a rank below him but that is what my smoke told me was happening.

If they ganged up on Bors, we were done for. We still didn't know the nature of the Lightning Inquisitor's other gift, which added to my worries.

“Where’s the other Inquisitor?” I asked Gaz.

“Of course they're Inquisitors! Damned Divines!" Gaz breathed deep after venting his complaints, tapping into his power. "He's on a long loop and looks to be bearing down on us again. From the angle of the doorway. If he gets lightning in here—” I didn't need him to continue. We could leave, but Archimedes would be fried.

“He or his beast’s gift must have something to stop arrows if he keeps swinging past.” I put away the bow but paused before I turned my lute into a blade, the beginnings of an idea starting to form.

“I can do layers of water to try and divert a strike,” Gaz offered, looking at a point in the distance. Diverting a strike from a higher-ranked opponent was possible but a tough order. It had, at best, a coin flip's chance of working. And there was no chance if they really threw their weight behind it.

“You do that. I've got an idea to try and get him to dismount. Could you have muted the effects of my song earlier for you and the others?”

“If I had warning, but—” He was too slow. I was already stepping out.

“Consider this your warning! Make sure at least his bird can hear me.” I shouted, diving out into the night.

Moving through the smoke, I checked my clothes to ensure I didn't expose myself. I hadn't shifted into my armour, which was good. Lightning gifted could sense many types of metal and with my weaker cultivation, it'd offer no defense. I stuck the knife in my belt into the storage ring but was otherwise clear of iron or other problem metals.

My fingers danced, I felt the chords ripple in the smoke around me, and the smoke started to dance. I didn't dip into my pool of death glamour yet. I let my control latch onto the smoke, forming it into writhing illusions. I found it easier to control them when I had a beat, a concept for them to latch onto. I picked a classic, one that fit the theme of what I wanted and could stir anger in my foe.

“Arise, with sword and armour,

Arise, as the war drums pound,”

Hands of ash and dense smoke rose out of the ground. The ancient marching song to which legions marched. My illusions took form. With smoke from the fires spreading, I could feel my target, my feathered audience, enter the very edge of my area of control. I let the tendrils of death glamour into the strings, letting them rise up my throat.

“Arise, for hearth and home.

Arise, as the battle cries sound,”

I pressed the seething rage into each word. As I did, I felt my mind dim, trying to drag me into a state of focus. I refused to blackout, to let the technique take me. I anchored my thoughts on my illusions as they formed grasping hands. Fingers of smoke burst out of the grey cloak, swamping the battlefield.

“War is come, battle is to be met,

Draw swords, let feet pound,”

I had no idea what the rider took from this, what it made of the waves of death and smoke. A technique that sought to invade their mind. But the few Inquisitors I knew of were not the type to take idle risks. I was not disappointed. Even with my senses numbed, my attention split. I could feel him dragging aggressively on the bird, trying to get it to change course.

“Let banners fly, follow the drum’s sound.

Blood is spilt, the earth made wet.”

Any other day, any other technique, that would be the end of it. The pair would retreat and the Knight assess, realising it was all a bluff. The hawk kept on. It was focused. It ignored the continued explosions of flame and the crashing of earth. It had a mission.

“Arise, with sword and armour,

Arise, as the war drums pound,”

The hawk was angry. It was still a beast, one on the hunt. A beast that heard the drumbeat of rage. Its talons were out, its focus on the prey that had eluded it. It cared not for the grasping hands that waited for it.

“Arise, for hearth and home.

Arise, as the battle cries sound.”

The lightning Inquisitor made the safe decision faced with an unknown threat. He abandoned his mount, landing outside the deepest reaches of my smoke. I felt a faint whiff of unfamiliar glamour that guided him down, but I couldn't interrogate it, such was my focus on my task.

“Break the foe, bring them down low,

March forth, send them home.”

A legion of giant hands converged on the hawk. The smoke tangled around it, the tendrils clamping onto the creature. To no effect. The smoke was sent spiralling into clouds. I heard the sound as its talons scraped the top of the dome. My goal was achieved. The Inquisitor was unseated. I felt something shifting on the edge of my smoke, crying out for an encore.

I pushed to complete the next verse, even as I felt the sparks gather as the Lightning Inquisitor hunted me through the ashen shroud. I added Levity to my straining mind, weaving it into the performance. My fingers strummed, and my voice rang out as I danced through the smoke.

“Let spirits soar, carve names in stone,

Leave them nought but woe.”

Lightning crashed through where I'd stood not moments ago, but thunder and threat could not stop this song. I held the smoke in place, a legion of hands forming even as each beat of its wings blew them apart. I kept the screeching creature surrounded on all sides, bar one. Darting down from up on high, hidden in plumes of smoke, Lance and Gring dived.

“Arise, with sword and armour,

Arise, as the war drums pound.”

The hawk squawked, sensing something was wrong. All but blinded by its prison. I felt it begin to break free of the rage I'd instilled in it. Attack stymied and its rider gone, it flapped amongst the smoke, trying to orient itself. Being the hunter it was, it never thought to check above.

“Arise, for hearth and home.

Arise, as the battle cries sound.”

Lance launched herself blade-first at it, striking true and bouncing back off it with a blast of Moon glamour. Gring caught her gracefully, spiriting them both away as the hawk fell out of the sky like a crumpled rag.

"No!" The rage in the Inquisitor sent sparks dancing through the smoke.

“Both enemy beasts are down. Lightning is on the ground and—”

The voice was cut off as the lightning mage vented their frustration. I doubted these were fully soul-bonded beasts, but it still likely required a measure of their power to fuel whatever method allowed them to control the beast. The loss would be painful. I felt Gawain, having slain the other beast, limping towards his opponent. No doubt aiming to take advantage of his opponent's moment of weakness.

“I am done. I wanted to draw out your sins, to give you a chance to repent, but you do not deserve such mercy. I am Ulfast, the Artist of the Burning Arc! I shall reveal your sins.” The words roared from the Inquisitor, even as crackling white light cut through the smoke. My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew that name. Ulfast was a spectacular ugly Inquisitor who was equal parts petty. A man who'd be nothing if not for his one claim to luck. Luck which explained why we'd only seen lightning from him.

"He's twin lightning gifted get down!" I shouted as I sprinted for cover with Levity pushing me further. My lute clutched to my chest full of freshly collected death glamour was nothing compared to the spreading aura. There was a taste like copper on my tongue. I could feel the glamour sparking off my skin. This wasn't a simple burst of lightning, no this was an entire storm.

I threw myself behind a set of stone seats we'd been using earlier that day, as night became day. Branches of lightning spread in screaming arcs that carved through the smoke. Ulfast unleashing his full wrath. Through the smoke, I felt Gawain stumble. The Inquisitor seemed locked in place till his technique finished but I knew he’d soon be turning to the downed Knight.

Perhaps I would be entertaining an audience tonight, but I’d need help. “Gaz, get ready for another song!”