Unbound-Chapter Eight Hundred And Fifty Four – 854

Pit’s destination was the Bastion of Atlantes. A fortress that Felix and the people of Elderthrone had built around the huge trunk of the Elder Spirit Tree, it was a soaring testament to the ingenuity of the city’s people. It was also surrounded by an expansive garden. It filled the top of the cliff, standing on both sides of the wide river that cascaded off the far edge. The garden was filled with beautiful trees, blossoms, and the enticing scent of growing things in the dark, rich loam.

Pit landed in a clearing with as much delicacy as he could muster, but for all his Agility and Dexterity, there was only so much grace he could pack into a frame the size of three caravan wagons. His wings clipped a few hedges and his left paw crushed some sort of flowerbed, but the green-robed workers around him only smiled and waved. He chirruped at them all, ears twitching uncertainly. He was nervous, but that was no reason to be rude.

Scylla was waiting for him.

The pale tenku was light where Pit was dark, compact where he was bulky, and just…really pretty. She matched the size of an Avum far closer than his gargantuan dimensions, but she did not seem delicate. He knew firsthand that there was power behind those limbs, speed in her wings, and a ferocity in her green gaze that could halt a shadowbeast. A ferocity that made him stumble when she turned those eyes on him.

"Pit. I was just enjoying your garden."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking around. "I like it a lot, too. It's not as full as the gardens in the Halcyon Hold, but—”

“It’s certainly better kept,” Scylla said, nodding at the people all around them.

Those green-robed workers were all over, tending the garden’s various residents, along with several Chanters Pit recognized on sight. All of them had dirt smudging their clothes and sweat on their brows—hard workers, all—but they were clearly paying greater attention to the both of them. When Pit met their eyes, they turned and busied themselves, pruning branches and watering garden beds.

"Ahem, well.” Pit clacked his beak together. “Would you, um, would you like to go for a walk?"

"That would be lovely.”

They strolled through the Bastion's gardens, enjoying the summer breeze as afternoon stretched toward evening. The air was wonderful, ruffling his feathers and providing a cool counterpart that did much to erase the memory of thick humidity in the jungles of Jaast. There were others walking the garden paths too—rich petitioners and common folk alike, all of them enjoying the summer gardens atop the Eye of Elderthrone.

Pit would have rather been alone, but of course the area was open to the public. Everywhere except for the portions where the gardeners tended to the food for the city. Due to Atlantes’ aura of fecundity, all flora and fauna flourished under its influence, so the harvesting was a frequent requirement. Added onto that, Felix’s Titles and bond with the Tree meant folks harvested more effectively than they would alone. It was a pantry for the entire city.

The paths were fairly wide, though Pit found himself squeezing more than once, as his two sets of wings or swishing tail would jostle a tree or row of shrubbery. It was nice to see that the gardens had grown, though. It sprawled, far more orderly than in his Halcyon Hold, but still vibrant and full of flickering motes of life Mana.

"It smells delightful," Scylla said, sniffing the air. "This in particular. What is it?"

Pit blinked, surprised to see the sapling shooting out of the center of the path. “That…is definitely a Spirit Tree.”

“But not yours,” she said, looking between it and the massive trunk that loomed in the distance.

The Atlantes had brown bark, and though it flickered with brilliant colors at times, it could never be mistaken for the sapling before them. It looked as if it was chipped from pure obsidian, and the small emerald leaves on its thin branches were rounded with serrated edges—very different from the trefoil lobes of the Atlantes.

Pit whistled in confusion. "Oh! Hi there!” He interrupted a passing Chanter with rolled up sleeves and dirt caked fingernails. "Could you tell me when this grew?"

"The Spirit Sapling?" The man smiled and untucked a pair of gloves from his belt. "They sprouted yesterday, but they’ve been growing fast."

Pit poked at the sapling, making it wobble. "Are there others?"

"Yes! This morning, silver Saplings broke through the soil on the eastern edge of the Bastion's gardens." The Chanter smiled, clearly pleased. "The Emperor stopped by earlier and explained that he'd just planted the Altissima Anima in Jaast, and these obsidian fellows are from the Ourea Anima in Levantier. So we should expect some rapid growth in the next few days, perhaps even more Spirit Fruit if we are lucky!"

"Thank you," Pit said.

"It was my pleasure." The Chanter bowed to them both and left, tugging his gloves on as he went down a separate path.

Scylla tilted her head. "Spirit Fruit?”

"A tasty thing, the size of your head," Pit said, trying not to drool at the memory. "I haven't had one in months, but they use them here to make Essence Draughts. I don't know what the other Spirit Trees would produce, though. Maybe something better."

"Spirit Trees…Spirit Fruit…old legends come alive again." Scylla shook her head, but her Spirit was grim. "The Nymean Empire returned."

A knot of uncertainty twisted at Pit's gut. "Ah, right. Um, would you like to fly? The gardens can be boring. We could do a quick tour of the city!”

The corners of her beak pitched upward. “A tour would be pleasant.”

“Great!”

They took wing over Elderthrone.

Pit led Scylla on a looping tour of his home and the two of them made for an interesting sight. They flew fast, but not so swiftly that their powerful wingbeats would disrupt those people below—people that pointed in concern and delight, many recognizing Pit’s silhouette against the emerald canopy. Scylla flitted around him like a white songbird around the wingspan of a raptor, and he found himself a touch envious of her grace. She moved like liquid, flowing between the air currents as wind Mana poured from her feathers. Pit simply dominated the air around him, his Skill claiming a mastery of air Mana as all four of his wings beat in complementary patterns.

"So that's where most people live," Pit said, pointing down to an orderly sprawl of residential buildings. "The Wings. And that is where people trade, called the Scale. And then there's other stuff," he said, forgetting the various terms. "But that icy place right there, that's the Bitterward."

"And who lives there?" Scylla asked.

"Frost Giants."

"Truly?"

"Yeah. They used to be bad guys, but now they're our friends. Felix and I, we made that happen. We're big on making friends."

"So I see."

Pit blushed as her green eyes locked with his, and he swiftly looked away. "Oh, and that right there is the Henaari area, the Ravenshold.”

He pointed with his black paw to a walled compound made entirely of wood carved with feathers, vines, and flowers. The term “wall” was misleading, however—there was a barrier around their district, but it was covered in carved, open archways that allowed anyone access to their areas where they crafted their various goods and performed their shadow plays. Crowds of all sorts were often among the Henaari, which Pit understood to be quite different than in other places around the Continent. Most civilized places despised them for some reason.

"Oh, and outside the walls, we hunt the forests and harvest the various nearby Domains.”

“And those mountains?" Scylla asked.

"Oh, that's just another range. On the other side is an old ruined city called Shellim. We don't really go there, though. One day, maybe, we'll bring it back. But that's not up to me," Pit shrugged.

Scylla, however, stared at the mountains, her gaze fixed on the peaks. "There is something… odd about them. Do you not feel that?"

Pit followed her gaze. "No, I... Well, one time we felt something rumbling around those mountains, but... I mean, that was back when the Archon was here doing his whole evil villain thing. We haven't felt anything like that since. Maybe all you're feeling now is, like, aftershocks?"

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"Perhaps," she said. "And perhaps I am simply distracted by this." She flew ahead and gestured with a paw at the canopy of branches and leaves that arced high above them. They flew between beams of sunlight filtering through that emerald canopy.

Pit smiled. "Yeah, Atlantes is amazing, and has a couple auras that take some getting used to. Oh! Uh, stay here for a sec!"

Pit dove, leaving Scylla hovering in place, her Spirit cloudy with confusion. Can’t believe I almost forgot!

He dropped toward the Eye of Elderthrone, where several purple-cowled Claw members were pushing out a giant satchel as big as a wagon. Two of them shouted as Pit neared, hauling up a pair of heavy leviathan bone handles at the top. Pit swooped down, paws extended, and grasped it before flaring Ouranic Dominion.

"Thank you! Goodbye!"

The claw members were hurled back, tumbling only slightly before fetching back onto their feet. They laughed, waving as Pit ascended into the sky again.

"What is that?" Scylla asked when he'd finally returned, bearing the heavy leather satchel. She sniffed. "That smells... " She cleared her throat. "It smells quite good."

"I thought we could have a meal."

She brightened. "I would like that."

"Great! Follow me!"

They flew ahead, navigating through the twisting branches of Atlantes. Normally, this was quite simple, but with the added weight, Pit found himself even more ungainly than usual. Scylla moved with her usual grace, flying around him in dizzying circles. She seemed quite upbeat with the prospect of food.

"Thalgrym and the Guardian Beasts will be here soon. Do we have their accommodations set?"

"Um, yeah," Pit said, pulling on the satchel to avoid a branch that curled below them as they flew. "We're gonna set them up, uh, here in the Spirit Tree. I already talked to Felix and Karys about that."

"I see. That should suffice," she said, looking around them. "I don’t mean to rush you. You’ll have plenty of time to prepare. There have been some delays due to an argument about the Manaships.”

Pit jerked his head toward her. “Manaships? Those fancy ones? They aren’t thinking of trying to get those through the Shadowgate, are they?”

“No, thankfully. Wonderment convinced them that it was impossible, lest they wish to sunder the bounds of the gate and be deposited into the Void directly. That quieted most arguments.”

Wonderment would know, Pit thought with a grimace. That’s how those particular Korvaa got stuck in the Void in the first place, generations ago. “The Shadowgates are stronger than a Dark Passage, but I certainly wouldn’t risk it. So what’s the hold up?”

“Thalgrym is convinced we need them. He’s provisioning the ships for an overland trip with the less able fliers."

"To meet us in Amaranth?" Pit asked, incredulous. "How long will that trip take them?"

"Entirely too long, I fear.”

“Why bother, then? They should stay and protect the Halcyon Hold and Euphonia.”

Scylla swooped through a twist of branches, tightening her wings before snapping them back outward to slow back to Pit's speed. "The weaponry on those ships are highly advanced. You will face Manaships from the Hierocracy during your assault. We need a counter."

"We're the counter," Pit said, landing finally atop a large, thick branch nearer the trunk of Atlantes. He dropped the satchel onto its nearly flat surface, and its contents bulged. "Those Manaships won't stand a chance. Not against all of us."

Fruit spilled out of the satchel as it tipped, pouring into a small mountain of delicious rinds, leaves, and meats.

Scylla stopped a piece of welka melon with her pale paw before it rolled off the edge. "You have more confidence in our power than is warranted. You forget that they will be bolstered by the Divine."

Pit leaned forward and bit a leafy stalk in half. "I don’t forget anything," he said between bites. "Eat up."

Pit tucked into the meal with abandon, chomping on whole vegetables and fruits in each of his enormous bites. Immediately, however, he slowed, worried that he was grossing out his new friend—until he saw Scylla tear into the mountain of food like a mole burrowing into the earth. Pit's eyes shone, more than impressed as Scylla devoured several roasted Glitterhogs in rapid succession.

Oh no, she's hogging the lurberries too. Those were his favorite. I can't tell her to save me some, right? Felix says that's rude. She's a guest.

"So your Companion raised this Tree?" Scylla asked, slowing down.

Pit nodded, but couldn't quite ignore the way her tone dripped with disdain when she said the word 'Companion'. "You don't really like him, do you?"

Scylla's crest lifted and her ears twitched. "I don't know him, Pit. I suppose it is unfair to say that I dislike him. I am, in fact, quite impressed that Felix let you keep your Authority." She breathed heavily through her nose. More disdain. "But what right does he have to let you do anything? You are the Stormlord of Sunara and your own person.”

"I mean, yeah, I am. But he's the Emperor."

"Even so.” Her crest lowered and she shook her head. “I apologize, Pit. All my life I have been taught that the Companion bond is a vile construct. The Nym betrayed us all when they fell to the Divine and their mortal pawns. We Chimera have never forgotten that."

"Wait, mortal pawns? What are you talking about? I thought it was just monsters and the gods until the Ruin happened."

Scylla's eyes widened. "Do you not know of the Descendants of the Deathless?"

"Deathless?”

“An old name for the gods, coined during the war."

"Okay, slow down. Which war? I've heard of the War of Creation, and then there was some sort of elemental thing, plus the Nymean fight against the gods. Which one are we talking about?"

"The War of Creation is something we know little of, so I am not speaking on that. The elemental conflict is entirely unfamiliar to me."

"They might be the same thing," Pit admitted. "Everything is kind of hazy, to be honest. My only points of reference are cryptic comments from a crazy Primordial and this one frozen mountain."

Scylla tilted her head. "Mountain?"

"Long story. Basically, Felix and I kicked the ass of a super elemental.”

“And this elemental told you of another war?”

“Like I said, it might be the same as the Creation one. I don't know. Elementals got beat down by the gods after they sided with the Primordials."

"Punishment for their transgressions," Scylla said with a grim nod. "That sounds like the Divine."

"Sounds like a bunch of buttheads." Pit ate an entire Glitterhog, bones and all. "So, you were talking about the Nymean War, then?"

"I was. The gods were called the Deathless for obvious reasons, but mostly because of their Vessels. No matter how often they were defeated, a new Vessel arose."

"Vessels." Pit's hackles rose at the word. "I thought not everyone can be a Vessel?"

"That's correct. The power of the Divine cannot be channeled by mortals lesser than a Grandmaster, not unless they have something else fortifying their Aspects. The result otherwise is rapid deterioration and gruesome death. In fact, that is often how the Nym would defeat the gods' vessels, through sheer attrition. It was a costly tactic.”

“Were the Descendants different then?”

“Only a little. Our oral records tell us that they would last years as a Vessel if they weren't required to actively channel Divinity. Months if otherwise, and the gods always pressed their Vessels to the breaking point.”

"Oh,” Pit breathed with a little relief. “I thought you were going to say they were Unbound.”

Scylla pondered that. "I have never heard any conjecture that they were. It's highly unlikely. The gods hate the Unbound, especially the ones that founded the Golden Empire."

"Wait, I heard that before," Pit chewed thoughtfully. "Two Unbound that founded the Golden Empire, but I thought the ritual that summoned them always brought nine. Where did the others go?"

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"The legends say that all but two died in the original conflicts, well before the gods were even involved. The founders of the Golden Empire never fought the gods directly—they had long since passed on from this realm. A portion of their power slipped into the bloodlines of the Nym, however, greatly strengthening them." Scylla devoured a green kletan rind and all.

"Bloodlines?” Pit warbled curiously. “Wait, Descendants… Are they actually the literal children of the gods?"

"No," Scylla said. "Thankfully, that is a lie they told. Something about them, however, some secret lost to time, allowed them to work better as Vessels. And now they're gone, Ruined, same as the Nym, a final act of petty vengeance from the gods for those that failed them.

"My point," she said, pushing aside her food, "is that the Companion bond is as dangerous as it is useful, but it harms us more than our mortal counterparts."

"Yeah, maybe. I can't lie, we've both been hurt by it, but we've saved each other way more often. Without Felix, none of us would be alive. If I couldn't channel his Skills with our bond, then I'd have never claimed the Seat and Seal of the Halcyon Hold."

Scylla sat back. "Perhaps.”

“There's no perhaps about it: Noctis would have killed us.”

“You greatly downplay your own role in things," she looked up at him, "you are a hero, Pit. Shaper of Chaos."

Pit swallowed and threw on his Mask. Instantly, he was no longer a giant tenku, but a small Dire Hound that pawed at the remnants of a Glitterhog. "I couldn't save Rakia or Ondine."

The guardian beast known as Rakia Yeva had been a blind Korvaa Seer, and she had sacrificed her life to give Pit enough time to save the Sylphaean Unbound.

A task that he had fumbled at the finish line.

"We all failed, Pit. Do not think that you can claim all the guilt, nor shoulder all the responsibility. I earned both, and I will fight my way to rectify them." She pushed aside the hog carcass, and suddenly her green eyes and white feathered face were there, level with his own. "I am proud that you sit upon the Halcyon Hold."

Scylla bowed her head until her pale yellow beak touched the bark. Pit sat back on his haunches, unsure what to say.

"Thank you." He held up the last lurberry in his mouth. "Are you going to eat this?"