Arthurian Cultivation

“Nah, fuck that, that's a trap.” Kay hid in the tree, staring at the pair of cultivators resting alone on the plain. One was dressed as a bard, his decorated outfit picked out in reds and greys as he played a lute. From the faint strings of music caught by the wind, she felt confident it was no illusion.

The giant of a man sat on a throne of false gold, looking like some king resting atop the ruins of his castle. A fool might be lured in by their apparent relaxed nature, but Kay was not so easily swayed. Not when she was sure she knew who the big cultivator was.

“Inquisitor Kay, poor language is the fae's work and diminishes your connection with the Star,” the nasal voice chided her. Kay fought the urge to tell the woman where she could stuff her Star.

Carefully, she used her glamour to extend a branch, her nature gift allowing her to shift the trees and carry her through the air, away from the cultivators. She’d rather risk the giant detecting the glamour than step on the ground. She arrived at the next tree, where her partner waited. Clove jumped from branch to branch to keep up.

“Upon review, I say by the Star's many rays, it's a trap.” Kay didn't like her colleagues, and not just because they were psychopaths willing to torture people at the drop of a hat and tended to giggle while doing it. While that was plenty of reason to loathe them, the worst part was that they pretended what they were doing was a kindness.

“We shall bring them mercy swiftly. We should attack now. They will fall before our purging light. This is nought but another trial.” Inquisitor Clove placed her hand over her heart as if in prayer.

“You're a fucking trial.”

“I heard that, Inquisitor Kay. I look forward to reporting your behaviour to a Senior Inquisitor.” Kay scoffed. All the Senior Inquisitors around here were dead.

“You were meant to hear me. At least have the gall to threaten me personally, not farm out your cowardly threats to others.” Kay was stuck with Clove, and while she didn't like her fellow cultivators, she trusted that they at least had a common enemy, which right now was everything in this realm. The challenge though was forcing some semblance of sanity through the brain rot of her zealotry to avoid getting killed by said enemy. Currently, the only way to distract Clove from heresy was with personal insults.

Like most so-called believers, an insult to her god was a sin worthy of punishment. An insult to her person was an unforgivable sin worthy of death.

“Why, you little—” Clove stepped forward only to find herself in a bubble of silence. Kay had forced the small runic tool she'd stolen off a dead colleague, the runes flaring and muting the sounds of the forest around them. The smaller woman drew out a knife in an instant, an oily sheen spilling over the blade, courtesy of her poison glamour. She crouched, eyes locked on Kay. “What is this, convert? Why have you activated the Angel's Silent Wings?”

“Listen, I don't trust Astor or his blood zombies. I'm not going out there. Let the hot-blooded fool spring the trap for us.”

“And risk another Ray stealing our quarry out from beneath us? And you dare call me coward? I knew your faith was weak, but this is too craven even for you.”

“I called you coward to get you to come close, you d—” Kay pinched the bridge of her nose. “I didn't want to be overheard by his creepy squirrels. That's why I goaded you. I meant no real offence.”

“Really?”

“Alright, I meant some offence. But listen! Don’t you recognize the big guy from our briefings? He’s the Stone Giant.” Was it really so hard to remember? Kay was taller than any other woman she knew, and even then she bet that man would stand a head taller than her.

“The cultivator gifted—blessed with earth and crystal. And what is he surrounded by?” Kay pointed out through a gap in the trees, across the bare plain of rocks and glittering shards.

“Oh.” Clove settled, her blade slowly sliding back into its sheath as she realized the situation. She had enough dignity to look slightly embarrassed, but too much pride to apologize for drawing her blade.

“Astor doesn’t know about their little troupe. He's just a rabid dog barking and clinging to a bone. We know, though, that the woman and man he described sounded like the Blood Hag and Silver Lion. He said there was no sign of any others in three days of hunting them. So why is the Stone Giant here?”

“It could be a trap for him. He comes barging into this waste and gets killed. It means they don't expect us to be working together. They would know that Inquisitors aren’t so easily fooled. They won’t be expecting us.” Kay breathed a sigh of relief as Clove finally showed some degree of tactical awareness, even if she was still stuck on unnecessary bravado.

“Don't be so sure. The Hag is said to be a tricky one, and I see no sign of the Storm Kestrel and his mount. I heard it was seen escaping during the chaos of the bear's wrath. But those open wastes would make us perfect targets for both foes.”

“We should get back to Inquisitor Waltz. He's been following them for months at this point. He’ll have more insight.”

“Thank fuck. I was worried you were going to go out there.”

“May the Ray have mercy upon your soul for your foul speech. I do, however, concur that such action would be rash. The Ray of Truth expects us to be flexible tools and complete our tasks with wisdom.” Clove started to head back to where the others waited. She bounded from branch to branch, both of them now wary of the forest floor. With earth cultivators, you never knew just how good their senses were, and runic formations could extend their range.

Their armour flashed silver as they flitted through the trees, their tabards woven together with bolts of light blue over a red background. Clove's armour was more ornate; her tabard had small embellishments that detailed the medals and honours she'd earned. Kay’s was still mostly blank, and if she had her way, it'd stay that way.

“I knew we should not have trusted one of those Harkley snakes. You know they all but worship their family patriarch, as if a Ray of Bonds were shining out his arse.”

“Blasphemy!” Clove spat. Kay sighed before offering some pretence of an apology. She accepted the sermon that Clove launched into.

The last six months had been a nightmare. Kay was a recent ‘convert’ to the Divine Church. Six years ago, she'd joined the Order of the Verdant Grove, not realizing the church was slowly corrupting it. Eventually, their influence had grown so strong that they openly coveted her rare gift of nature, though it was her gift of lightning that truly sealed her fate. The Ray of Truth had all but demanded her.

Her family was poor. Her grandfather was a Steel who had stalled and now grew weaker with every passing year. They were of no help. Pressure had been applied, and even with the Order helping with negotiations, she was still forced into a choice. Join them, or enter into an arranged marriage. Having met Ulfast during the negotiations, she chose the less horrifying route.

She was spared having to torture anyone so far. She'd been somewhat saved by the fae realm opening up, her training rushed to get her into the realm. As it was, Kay was currently called an Inquisitor but had done little to earn such a title. She still saw herself as a disciple of the Grove. If anything, the more time she spent around the other believers, the more intense her convictions became.

There was something wrong about the Divine Cultivators. Something unbalanced and broken. She'd seen more duels in the last six months than she'd seen in six years with the Order. They had a feral dedication to the idea of rising up to join the Rays. To reach the celestial host that painted the sky with its great virtues, they would build a mountain of corpses, even if it took the sacrifice of their fellow acolytes.

Even as the guidance of the Rays claimed unity and spoke of shared purpose, those around her plotted. Theft, betrayal, and murder were rife. Worse, it was excused by success. The Guiding Star illuminated the path of its chosen. If you slipped from it, then it was your faith that was lacking, your strength that was wanting.

“Look, I want to live, don't you?” Kay started. Seeing Clove frown, she pivoted. “To join the host. We've been in this hellish forest for close to a month, and it's been disaster after disaster. We mustn't be caught out by trickery.”

“It is merely a test of our faith.”

“Exactly whose faith was being tested when all your Squires got eaten by a giant hedgehog?” Kay was still sore on that point. She might not have liked the Squires, but they had been Clove’s responsibility. That she’d abandoned them to chase a ‘blessed treasure’ was an unforgivable failing to Kay.

“Their resolve must've been lacking.” The woman clicked her tongue as if frustrated with a naughty child. Kay had to bite back her retort.

“Look, I say we just let Astor go at them and pick off whatever's left at the end. Then book it and hope that bear has pissed off. I'm not getting stuck in this hellhole for however long this place takes to open up again. We need to get out of here, and I don't like the idea of having a Harkley at our backs. The Church will want someone to blame, and I'm sure he'd prefer to be the only one talking.”

“I do not disagree. Let us speak with Waltz about how best to accomplish our holy mission. If, during the collection of the Silver Lion, they kill each other, then that is on them.” Kay nodded. Everything she had heard about the Silver Lion and his allies sounded terrifying. Their orders were to retrieve him alive, and though she wished the Divine Cultivators' enemies every success, that didn't include slaying her.

Taking a monstrous talent like that and trying to drag him along with them would get her killed, she was certain.

“That is more duplicity than I expected from you, Clove,” Kay answered carefully. The two remaining inquisitors frequently probed her ‘faith.’ Kay was careful not to say anything that could be construed as direct disobedience, contenting herself with vulgar language. Acting as a true convert would’ve been more suspicious; better to act as an obedient but mouthy ally.

Besides, she wasn’t that good an actor.

“I am an Inquisitor. We must see the greater truth.”

“I leave this in the hands of the more experienced Inquisitor.”

“Good, I shall explain it to Waltz”—and no doubt take credit—“You should let me handle Astor. Don't disagree or contradict him. The man is—”

“Madder than a box of frogs? Has Ulfast levels of self-delusion?”

“In dire need of the Star’s guidance and healing grace,” Clove answered. Even she conceded that the Paladin wasn’t worth defending.

They headed back to a clearing between the looming trees and found Astor pacing. The man looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, one with inch-long thorns. He was covered in dried blood, the brown stains worked into the scratches and dents in his armour.

The sandy blonde hair that marked the Harkley lineage was cut short on one side, along with the tip of his ear, a sign of some attack he had barely avoided. His eyes were mad, his irises red, a reflection of the blood gift and madness within. The man stood with a pack of small creatures: rats, squirrels, and other vermin.

Watching him was Waltz, the last member of their expedition. Their group was nearly all that remained of the Church’s presence in the realm. The exit was guarded by a single Paladin and Inquisitor, both wounded. They were left to keep a lookout in case this was a trick, supported by seven Acolytes who’d managed to survive the many waves of slaughter by pure luck.

Waltz acknowledged them, shooting them both a glance as Clove flashed a couple of discreet hand signs that Kay barely caught. It was meant to be part of her training, but while she’d memorized all of them, she was far from fluent in the hidden language. She recognized the sign for ‘deception’ mixed in there.

“We have returned.”

“Well met, Inquisitor Kay, Inquisitor Clove. How goes the reconnaissance? I’m sorry my tools cannot aid you; I’m preparing them for another purpose.” Kay shuddered as Aster greeted them. Part of what she detested about the Paladin was how sane he behaved. His voice was polite, even friendly. It belonged at a party or sharing tawdry tales over ale.

He was so far gone he didn’t realize his mask of sanity was cracked and broken. He chatted like his face wasn’t smeared with blood and his eyes didn’t reflect the pits of hell.

“Indeed, we have much to discuss. It seems that others have appeared. A pair of unknown cultivators wait on the plain. One is a Knight, the other some kind of Bard. They wait in the location you suggest the Blood Hag is heading towards.”

“Ah, another irritation. More people trying to make a mockery of our purpose. May the Star guide us.” Astor thumped his armour.

“May the Star guide us,” the rest responded, as was expected.

“Did you get any sense of this Bard’s cultivation?” Waltz asked.

“No, we did not,” Clove spoke again, Kay happy to let her take point.

“I would expect at least one of them to be an earth cultivator, to stand so boldly out in the open. No matter, my helpers here will prepare a surprise for them. I had intended for it to flush out Persephone, but these interlopers must be dealt with.” Kay looked at the collection of forest creatures. None seemed a threat to any self-respecting cultivator, but she’d rather stick her foot in a bear trap than ask the lunatic a question. “Waltz, could I trust you to help cloud his senses? I’ve heard your Blessing of Earth is potent.”

“I don’t know your plan, but if it brings us closer to the Silver Lion, I will support you. How long until the Lion and the Hag arrive?” Waltz asked as he started to limber up.

“They’re about an hour out. My blood sense gets stronger as I get closer, but I fear she has some method to sense me. If they seem to be avoiding the mountain, I’ll let you know. But until then, we should wait until she gets close enough that she cannot retreat back to the forest when they feel the trap closing in. Those wastes, even with these complications, is the perfect place to trap them.”

“These allies that wait also explain her behaviour. You said till now her travel has been erratic. The Hag must be rushing to get aid. It might mean that the wound on the Lion is growing worse. Allies to defend would also slow her escape, and if she does leave, we can interrogate them. This Bard could aid us. He might be a witch in disguise, but they’re easier to subdue. Aim to leave him alive unless their escape is impossible. The Hag and any others apart from the Lion should be slain,” Waltz mused.

“Heeheehee, I never did mention how much I like that Persephone’s name is the Blood Hag! A fitting name for such a witch.” Aster's laughter had a mania that set the Inquisitors on edge. It spoke of madness that made even the most broken and bloody captive a threat. It was the kind of giggle you’d get before they tried to tear out your throat with their teeth.

“You’re familiar with her?” Clove asked carefully, probing how much he knew of their targets. Kay schooled her expression. Six months of hanging around the zealots had honed her ability to hide her thoughts.

“Not as much as I would’ve liked. She rejected my advances. I was too much for her. She has a thing for nursing wounded chicks. She flirted with a cousin of mine until she abandoned him. Apparently to run around playing at being some Knight. No doubt her interest waned when she found how broken those wings were. That runt’s only value was to die and bind the Harkley name to the spark of this glorious crusade.” The foul blood cultivator laughed again, and Kay felt her skin pickle and itch.

“Any chance you would know who she travels with? Who the cultivators might be?” Clove asked again. She hid her relief when the man shook his head.

“No, she was but a pretty flower my family coveted. I lusted after her once, but now, of course, I have no interest in her beyond ensuring she understands the majesty of the Guiding Star. Perhaps if I had more time, I could enlist you to convert her for me. My family, the Harkley's, would be happy with such a gift. It's a pity Ulfast isn’t here. I’m sure he’d be up for the challenge.” Kay decided then and there she was going to ensure that Astor died. The idea of willingly inflicting Ulfast on someone sent bile up her throat.

It was around the fifth or sixth time she’d committed to seeing Astor Harkley dead since she’d met him, and the second time since he’d returned from his failed hunt.

He’d arrived in their camp last night, requesting help as if he hadn’t just stepped out of the woods looking like he’d dug his way out of a mass grave. He explained how he’d been tracking the Silver Lion but had recently lost him and requested their help in tracking down their target.

Everyone had been briefed on the Lion, but only the Inquisitors knew of his whole troupe. Even if apprehending the Lion was considered a top priority for all members of the Church, the Rays shared only the scantest details they had collected with each other. It was why Astor had been hunting them alone. Why share the fame and respect that came with fulfilling such orders when one could hoard it?

Everything had gone sideways when the Silver Lion had become involved. He and his allies had tracked the Inquisitors, who had followed ancient texts unique to the Church to find the realm. They’d slipped in before the Saint and Cardinal had arrived and had been sabotaging their efforts to grow themselves in the dense power of the realm.

Kay didn’t know who the Lion’s master was, but they must be someone powerful that the Church desperately needed leverage over. Their orders were clear: the Lion was to be taken alive or not at all, and when captured, was not to be ‘broken’ by questioning.

She wanted to know who these cultivators were. They were running rings around the Inquisition. Somehow, they’d raised the demon bear from its rest, obliterating their camp and cutting them off from reinforcements. They gave Kay a chance—a way to slip away.

She'd considered running in the chaos but she held back. If there was even a rumour of her committing ‘apostasy’ her family would not survive the Church's retribution.

Inquisitor Kay must be slain to sate them. And what better way to ensure that death than to say she and the rest of them ‘perished’ in glorious battle against powerful foes. Now, it was just about finding the right time for ‘Inquisitor Kay’ to fall, and ‘Knight Kay’ to rise anew.