Arthurian Cultivation

“Oh, thank the Sidhe!” These were the first words I heard in my new life, delivered in Bors’ hearty baritone.

“What the unseelie fuck?!” I heard Sephy mutter, the voice quiet but close. I blinked in confusion.

With my new intent, it was only fitting that I awoke to chaos—beautiful chaos. Sephy loomed over me, wearing an expression I had never seen before. A delicate, fragile thing, a story told with the tears threatened to overwhelm her eyes, the lip she bit, and the furrow of her brow. It lasted only a second before a mask of anger dropped down.

“So, how do you like my way around the blood curse?” I asked nervously, my mouth dry. While my blood had returned, my fiery reincarnation had skipped on the spit.

“You gave me control of your blood! What were you thinking? I could’ve killed you!” She loomed over me, fuming, her hands clasping at nothing.

“Technically, it did.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Her voice rose an octave, and for a moment, I wondered if I should warn her it would be a while before I could repeat that trick. I’d rarely seen her this mad. Bors stepped in to spare me.

“I am so glad you're back. I was going to look like a complete idiot if you didn’t come back,” Bors rumbled, moving in to give me a hand up. “You’d also have been dead, which would’ve been a shitter.”

Once on my feet, he wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug. I wasn’t normally a hugger, but for once, I could make an exception. I saw Sephy looking at us. Alright, maybe I could make a couple of exceptions. It was good to be alive.

“Wait, your bones didn’t so much as squeak? Did you just rise to Iron rank?” Bors asked, his voice incredulous. I took only a moment to confirm it. The world felt different, with more detail. The glamour was less oppressive, and I felt more solid, more real than I ever had before.

My senses stretched at least three times as far as they had before. The fire behind was already starting to die down, no longer whipped up into a frenzy by the fire cultivators. A huge bank of smoke spread with it, and my senses extended for what felt like miles in all directions. My control felt limited, the image fuzzy, but I quickly realised it was because I had so much more power at my beck and call that I was overwhelming my usual techniques.

“Well, would you look at that? I’m an Iron-ranked bard,” I replied, not expecting to be unceremoniously dumped on the ground, and for both Bors and Sephy to immediately retreat a few steps, looking at me like a cauldron that had started to smoke. I stumbled to my feet. “The fuck, Bors?”

“You stay there. Being covered in impurities once was enough for a lifetime. I’d take being dipped in monster lure over getting that stuff on me again.” The big man was in the same stance he used when ready to raise a shield of earth. I looked at Sephy, expecting this to be some joke, but saw her trying to discreetly hide behind Bors. I had read clinical descriptions of purging impurities, but I felt the books must’ve underplayed the foulness of the experience if this was the response it provoked.

“I don’t think I need to worry about that—the flames consume impurities.” Both of them relaxed at that.

“That’s such a bullshit ability,” he grumbled.

“I just came back from the dead, and this is what makes you say that?”

“Coming back from the dead and somehow getting stronger from dying, I could understand. Skipping out on the impurities is just cheating. I mean, it could’ve been worse—you could’ve kept your armour.”

In a panic, I looked down, not feeling my armour. Relief flooded through me as I realised his trick—I wasn’t unknowingly standing in the nude again. It seemed the Lady’s gift to me had reformed in the fire, returning to my troubadour's outfit. Mostly unchanged, though I noticed that hidden in the patches of red was a pattern of red feathers.

“You forget you’re naked one time, and you never hear the end of it.” That got a chuckle from Bors, and a raised eyebrow from Sephy. She stepped forward, wearing a look I knew well—a veteran of countless balls, with a gentle smile, sharp eyes, and a slight turn of the head. Her way of saying she had my attention, daring me to trade barbs.

“So, it’s really you?”

“It’s really me, Sephy.” I used her name again, and this time there was no worried crease of her eyes, no threat to my person. Her smile grew a fraction. My pulse sped up.

“You are different.” She stepped closer, closely examining me. It wasn’t a question, but I felt the need to explain.

“I found last time I played this particular trump card that I could somewhat change how I looked.”

“It’s not just your looks—it’s everything. You even speak differently.” She took another step closer.

“I’m still me. It’s just—I chose to bring over the bits of me I liked most.” Something was wrong with what I just said. I closed my eyes. I could still feel the echoes of the battle with my intent in my soul. It wasn’t so cut and dry—the choice wasn’t conscious. That revelation irritated the part of me that couldn’t lie, and I felt the need to continue to ease its nagging. “Rather, as I work out the kind of person I want to be, I’m burning away the impurities—the bits of me that aren’t part of the person I want to be.”

I opened my eyes to find her right before me. Bors was gone, and it was just the two of us in a clearing lined by bushes that resembled holly, with inch-long thorns and a mix of red, pink, and black berries. The fires behind cast a strange, dancing light over everything, making the shadows flicker and shift. I looked around for distractions because, for the first time I could remember, I felt scared to meet her gaze. Her presence was intense.

“What if I told you I preferred Reggie? What if I said I didn’t know this Taliesin?” I felt an old thrill hearing her call me Reggie, even as the question pole-axed me. I felt like a mouse before a cat—a frequent experience with Sephy. The question would have sent me reeling before, but I’d just finished metaphorically burying Regus. I steeled myself and met her gaze. Her hazel eyes bore into me. This was a test.

“You’ll get to know me again. I’m not going anywhere,” I replied, and her face broke into a wide smile that had me thinking things. I still didn’t know what Sephy really thought of me, and right now, being close to her was pushing me to pursue what I most wanted to be true. The images that popped into my mind sent a flush crawling up my neck.

“Good answer. A perfect answer, in fact.” Her grin became predatory again, showing her teeth. “Now, there’s one last test I want to do.” She raised her eyebrow at me. Flustered, I couldn’t really focus on what she was saying. I fought the parts of my brain throwing very unhelpful suggestions about what we could do, and worked on what she’d said. There was only one test left.

“My blood? Don’t you already have plenty?” My brow furrowed. I thought we had solved this. My confusion only deepened as her plate armour disappeared into her storage ring, leaving her in leggings and a gambeson. While far from scandalous, I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering over her body, drinking her in. I didn’t know what was happening.

“I’d prefer to take it fresh from the source.” Her voice was almost a whisper. I froze as she pressed up against me. Her eyes danced over me, and her lips came right up to mine. I didn’t dare move. When I didn’t retreat, she kissed me hungrily. My newly heightened perception dimmed, consumed entirely by the sensation of her full lips on mine.

She smelled of blood and smoke, and our kiss tasted the same. My brain melted, unable to do anything but embrace the moment. My hands followed suit, snaking around her waist as her hands rose up my back, one running through my hair. I met her passion with my own, the dam around my restrained feelings for her groaning, cracks forming.

Her head shifted, and I felt a burst of pain in my lower lip. She’d bitten me, but even the pain had a sweetness to it.

She let out a little groan that sent a shiver down my spine, then broke our kiss. She didn’t let go of me, and I didn’t even consider loosening my grip on her. My eyes were unfocused, and my mind scrambled. Was this actually happening?

“So, think you passed?” she grinned.

“Bweh?” was all I could manage; my silver tongue was tied in knots. Her eyes, polished amber, shone with mischief, revelling in my speechlessness, dragging me back to reality. I watched as she made a show of her tongue dancing around her lips as if considering the flavour. I thought I knew what it was to feel alive, but it paled in comparison to how my heart pounded and my nerves sang. It was a perfect moment.

“Hello down there!” Until it wasn’t. Sephy and I shared a look of utter frustration as reality burst the little bubble we’d crafted. We looked up to see the silhouette of a giant kestrel descending through the smoke.

“Man really knows how to ruin a mood, doesn’t he?” Bors laughed, emerging from the bushes. Like a good friend, he had made himself scarce. With the moment thoroughly lost, Sephy let go of me, and with great reluctance, I did the same. I was full of questions—what did the kiss mean? I knew what I wanted it to mean... or did I? Also, I really needed to get control of the stupid grin I was wearing.

I didn’t think any of them had seen anything, which was great because I wanted Arthur nowhere near my—whatever this was—with Sephy.

As they came through the smoke, we could make out Arthur on Archimedes, waving regally at us. Gawain was with him, looking like he’d aged a century, his skin sallow and taut. The Guardian Knight was so drained that he snapped at the princeling, who settled back into his place on the saddle. I saw Gaz there as well, awkwardly looking around at anything that wasn’t me or Sephy. Damn sound mage.

“You know, I used to think you were just bellyaching about it, but he really does seem to have a knack for ruining a moment,” Sephy said, straightening out her outfit as she stared resentfully at the sky.

“Man regularly throws spokes in your wheel?” I asked Bors, trying my best to rein in my galloping heart and pretend that I cared about anything other than Sephy at that moment.

“Man, you don’t know the half of it. When I was flirting with Alexis, I half-expected him to drop through the ceiling. Plenty of beds have been spared a visit from the beast with two backs thanks to his tireless vigil. You two better be wary.” He grinned at us.

“Bors,” Sephy snapped at him. To my surprise, she was blushing, and it was only when I caught up with the euphemism that I felt my own cheeks burn. Needing something to distract myself, I turned my attention to the sky and, with great relief, felt Gring and Lance descending. However something was off.

“There’s someone else on Gring with Lance,” I frowned. My smoke wasn’t telling me anything about them—I still struggled to get the fine details I used to sense, the added power making me clumsy.

“Gring lets other people ride him now?” Sephy was also looking up, and I cursed myself for overcomplicating things. With a push of glamour, I cleared much of the sky of smoke.

“That’s Inquisitor armour,” we said as one. We didn’t smile, all thoughts of flirtation banished. Sephy pulled her armour back on, and I looked around for my blade and ring. Bors passed them to me, and to my great pleasure, he also offered me the tattered cloak. I nodded in thanks, surprised the magical gift hadn’t been ruined.

“Calm down. They say they’re on our side. They killed one of the others.” Gaz jumped off Archimedes, landing before us and holding his hands up to calm us.

“I don’t think we should trust traitors,” Arthur was right behind him, jumping even as Gawain tried to stop him. The prince landed, levelling his stupidly pretty face at me, his eyes full of accusation. I didn’t like the tone, but my mood picked up as Sephy took a step closer to me, putting herself between the two of us. She didn’t say anything, keeping her eyes fixed on the approaching pegasus.

“Lance argued that we should at least hear her out. She said the Inquisitor was Nature-gifted and saved her life.”

“So she’s not the poison one? Astor mentioned that.” Sephy looked them over. “Lancelot really does look like a Quilvern, it’s uncanny.”

“Let’s not mention our ancestry in front of this Inquisitor. She doesn’t seem to know who we really are. And no, she’s decidedly not the poison one. That one was a right thorn in my side and I'm not sure I could've slain her without great risk to the others. From what Lance has relayed her actions at least are to be trusted.” Gawain dismounted, gently petting Archimedes before pulling out a monster corpse from his ring. The kestrel tore into it with wild abandon. He moved slowly and carefully, skin grey and eyes sunken, sure signs of a battle with poison. “She claims to be a forcible convert, and a recent one at that. Mercy to an Inquisitor is not something I’d normally consider, but we have a precedent of good people getting tangled up with the Divine Cultivators.”

Gawain nodded to me, and I might’ve felt a little bad about shorting him on bacon this morning. I was a little surprised to hear Gawain speak so clearly in support of me, especially given Arthur looked ready to challenge me to a duel. I tipped my head in acknowledgement, then gave my all to watching Gring, who was only a little soot-stained but otherwise seemed healthy and whole as he descended.

We all watched the pegasus land, Lance on its back. She dismounted almost protectively, standing before the more powerful cultivator she escorted, whose gaze was fixed to the ground.

“This is Kay. She saved my life, and her actions released Arthur and Gawain from their poison. She also killed several more blood thralls who were positioned to shred natural treasures, sparing us from dealing with that. I believe we, as a group, owe her a debt. She has asked us to hear her out.” Lance spoke clearly, her voice resonating with purpose, standing between us and the Inquisitor.

I couldn’t help but notice she chose to stand directly before Arthur and Gawain. Arthur’s face had gone blank, devoid of emotion. Even in our brief meetings, he seemed like someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, so it was a little surprising. What did he think of the unexpected appearance of Lance, who could’ve been his sister?

“Let’s hear what she has to say,” Sephy said. Her stance was relaxed, but her hand still rested on the hilt of her blade.

“Thank you, and thank you, Lance, for giving me this opportunity. Please consider any debt between us settled.” The woman dismounted. Taking a deep breath, she knelt on one knee and pulled off her helm. She had long green hair that shook out and dark brown eyes fixed on the floor. Relatively short and slim in build, she didn’t cut an imposing figure even in the Inquisitor’s armour. That said, I had to admire her courage and determination as she threw herself on our mercy.

She’d have an ally in me if she was truly repentant. Saving another forcible convert would make this world a better one, but I could feel my power gathering in case she was lying.

“I’m Kay. My family holds no great title. Until six months ago, I was part of the Order of the Verdant Grove. They were pressured to share their resources with the Ray of Truth. I have the lightning and nature gifts, which they coveted. Since my induction, I’ve been seeking a way out. If I just left, they’d slay my family. I have sought an opportunity for Inquisitor Kay to ‘perish,’ giving me a chance to escape. This place has proven a perfect opportunity for just that.”

She wasn’t lying—that much I knew. Hearing an echo of my own life in her story, I couldn’t help but empathize with her situation.

“They don’t tend to force recruitment. What alternatives were you offered?” Sephy asked. It was a good question—they never forced you to join. The Clergy liked to use it as a boast, even if the options they offered were no real choice at all.

“I could’ve defied them, but as I mentioned, my family is no one special. So, it was this or marriage, to a monster named Ulfast. It was...”

“No need to explain further.” We as a group shuddered at the very thought. She looked relieved at that, her expression only growing as Lance chuckled.

“No need to worry about that fate either. The only way he’s getting into a church is in a coffin.”

“That is a relief.” A small smile flashed across her face before she remembered the threat still hanging over her.

“Some questions: Have you engaged in torture? Have you hunted other cultivators?” Arthur’s voice was clipped and professional, his earlier aggression calmed but his suspicion still present.

“No to both. I was still in training when they hurriedly shipped me here. They wanted me to use my gift in this realm to keep some of the less powerful but more loyal recruits safe. I was still being force-fed scripture.”

“What do you think? Is she telling the truth?” Gawain turned to the big man.

“I’ve only just met her, but seems so. It takes a while to be sure,” Bors answered. I wanted to speak up in her defence, but I still felt uncomfortable exposing my fae truth senses. I didn’t trust Arthur with such knowledge. He didn’t seem the type well-suited to keeping secrets and would be the first to drag me around like some sort of truth detector.

Thankfully, I didn’t need to. I had a solution that could undeniably prove her honesty. Now I just needed to see if they were half as benevolent as I hoped.

“Oh Silver-Eyed Watcher, would you be able to aid us and confirm this woman’s story?” I turned and spoke to the patch of air that felt a little emptier than the rest, a space where I kept catching glimpses of silver. The group blinked at me, then everyone scrambled for a weapon as a figure began to form.

The fae seemed to pour into place, like molten silver filling an invisible mould from the top down. Antlers appeared first, the silver shifting to more natural tones of horn as they found their place. He took the shape of a tall human, the antlers rising from his head, making him tower over even Bors. Those mirror like eyes were the standout feature of what was, in every other regard, a stunningly handsome face—all sharp angles and high cheekbones.

His skin was blue, and his body lean, with corded muscle. He wore green silk pinned as a toga, a fashion I knew from pictures of the Atlantean empire of the ancient era. That was all he wore apart from a saw-toothed smile.

“You mortals are a blast!”