REYTH
The sky was bright overhead as Reyth stared upward, shading her eyes against the brilliance of the halo of light nearing directly overhead.
It was just a brighter patch in the band of light that arced across the sky. A ring of light that she had been told had once appeared as a powerful ball of Lumen that wandered across the sky, like the moon that came out at night.
Reyth’s Bloodline wasn’t old enough to remember this time. Even the eldest Bloodlines in the Sisterhood had only dim, brief memories of seeing the sun itself, free of the obscuring Shroud of Light. In another few generations, even those might be gone forever. The sun would be a thing of stories and tales, even more than it already was.
She knew the story. Everyone in the Sisterhood knew. The story of the First Six, five Calen and an Aravel, that had journeyed so far from the Homelands to see the Sun’s Nest for the first time. How their journey had released the Glittering Mist that imbued them all, and lifted several into the domain of the gods. How the Mist became a blessing, lengthening the days for everyone.
Here at the Sun’s Nest, the sky was at its brightest just before the daylight faded, rapidly turning to full night within a few moments. The mornings were more leisurely, stretching out to allow the slow creep of rainbow light – first a rich, deep red, all the way up to a brilliant blue – to wash over the sky in stages. It was unique to this place to have such a short night.
Reyth sighed and sat up, lowering her eyes to look out over the rolling hills that lead up to her mountain home. She could see the wild, twisted forest in the distance, a road snaking through it to provide some measure of safety. It wasn’t much, with how this region was still considered wild, but in the two millennia her Bloodline had existed, the area around the Sisterhood had gotten safer.
A little.
Not that she’d gone far beyond the walls, ever. Reyth dove back into her Bloodline, reviewing all the lives she could remember. She’d been born here, from an Unbonded, in her first life. The Sisterhood was all she knew…
Lately, she had started to wonder if that was a good thing.
The young Aravel took a deep breath, flexing her toes against the slats of the roof she sat atop. Nobody bothered her here. Oh, they knew where she was… it wasn’t hard to see her. But very few wanted to bother her during her time off. Reyth’s Bloodline had served the elders faithfully for ten generations, providing for their needs and performing all the upkeep and organizational duties.
Many thought that made Reyth subservient. The reality was more complex. Even while she looked out at the wilderness, she was pondering the schism of four lifetimes ago. A schism between elders that had been settled by her ancestor choosing which one to follow.
She pondered this as she turned her head, looking at the rugged, immense mountains that defied gravity in their climb to the sky. The reason she pondered was not to consider any change in the structure of the Sisterhood, but rather if the Sisterhood could do without her.
“You Aravel are amazing, but you really tend to get stuck in one place.”
It had been several years since that strange elf had visited. That comment still stuck in Reyth’s head, though. An offhand and dismissive statement, showing a strange combination of admiration and disdain all in one. Reyth hadn’t known how to take it at the time, and it was done so casually she wouldn’t have remembered, normally. Just an unusual Calen passing through, a tickle of memory in her many lives.
Except…
Then the stranger had been put into the group that discovered the dwarves. A sudden decision made without explanation by Elder Thanwy had surprised everyone, but the elder had been insistent. Even more memorable had been nearly going to battle with the dwarves when that stranger had not returned. Only Elder Thanwy’s insistence that she knew the dwarves were telling the truth when they claimed they had not seen Wryna had kept blood from being shed.
Reyth had pressured the elder in private for weeks until the truth had come out: that the elder had been given a Quest from Eyssa to aid the traveler. Sometime during the expedition into the dwarven tunnels, the Quest had quietly completed.
This left Reyth uncomfortable with the whole situation. One of the Sisters herself had guided the elder into putting a pilgrim in danger. She had never heard of such a short Quest with such a strangely immediate goal before, at least not from a god. She’d heard tales of dragons giving trivial quests, but not a god.
The dwarves also confused her. So serious and straightforward. They always smelled like dirt and rock – which didn’t always mean bad, but was pretty weird. Their voices sounded like a foot grinding its heel into gravel, and their language hurt the throat for elves to speak. Yet dwarves could not grasp some of the essential parts of elven language, as if unable to hear the difference in certain tenses and words.
She didn’t like dealing with them. Despite being all male, they were pleasant enough to the elves, but it was so tiring to work with them that she never looked forward to it.
Reyth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d been doing this lately… thinking of all that had happened here. Thinking of how her Bloodline had such prestige, but was here and only here, without even a chance to see a dragon or experience adventures like those of the Sisters.
She opened her eyes again and swept her gaze over the expanse before her. A sigh escaped, before Reyth saw the glimpse of movement nearby. Here atop the watchtower, that could only be someone on the other watchtower.
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A simple glance told Reyth it was another elf, but the second glance had to be taken. The newcomer on the other roof, lounging casually, was stockier and more muscular. Her eyes were green, but did not glow like Reyth’s. A Calen elf, not Aravel. The stranger’s ears flit upward, tail swaying playfully as she looked back…
Wryna.
Reyth blinked the Quest notification away. She’d never heard of a Quest given by the System itself, but that was definitely what it said. If System Quests weren’t allowed to be revealed… was that because they existed but kept themselves secret?
She didn’t have time to think about that. Her target, the elf who looked remarkably like Wryna, was already springing to her feet and leaping to another rooftop nearby. If she wanted to take the Quest and get the ambiguous reward, Reyth had to move fast.
The Calen were great at rooftop – or treetop – leaping, but Reyth had an advantage. Most people assumed that her very specialized [Sisterhood Attendant] class was wholly devoted to servile aspects, but few thought about what that meant. It contained abilities for reading the room, for moving quietly… and for swift movement in all ways, even those less-used by actual attendants.
Specifically, the Elegant Leap ability let Reyth easily clear the gap between the towers.
She didn’t let herself skid to a stop. Wryna, or the elf who looked like her, had a head start. Barely two steps onto the second watchtower, and Reyth was already flinging herself forward, tumbling across the long, less sloped roof of the stables. The roll kept her momentum, and also kept her from impacting too hard against the wooden slats covering the roof proper. She didn’t know why that worked, but it did.
The tumble ended with Reyth kicking off the edge of the roof. The next building was a floor higher, so she used her momentum to keep going forward and focused on gaining height. She saw Wryna’s tail vanishing over the lip of the roof, closer than before.
A dangerous, warning creak hit Reyth’s ears when she grabbed the lip of the roof and swung herself up. This lost her some momentum, her toes digging claws into the wood to give her some purchase. Leaps and some climbing were included in her class abilities, but the acrobatic moves were pure skill… a skill she hadn’t practiced as much in this lifetime as some of her past selves. Muscle memory didn’t carry over across lifetimes.
Recovering her balance, Reyth saw Wryna scampering down the side of the next building, the prayer hall for Solen. A memory bubbled up from three lives ago, one of her more physically active lifetimes. She darted her vision to the left to see the supporting wall against rockslides, and leapt that way instead of after Wryna.
She wasn’t as practiced as her ancestor. The impact jarred at her ankles, even with her knees flexing to absorb the shock. A kick off the wall quickly brought her downward at an angle as she used the far wall as a springboard, bleeding off her momentum from the fall and directing it sideways. She saw Wryna look up, with a pleased flick of the ears the instant before Reyth tackled her.
The two elves tumbled, with Reyth trying not to hurt the other elf. Immediately she felt a subtle wrongness with Wryna, though. The two skid across the grass, making a loud thud as they slammed into the prayer hall’s outside wall. Reyth felt her breath wheeze out of her body, but her mind was distracted more by how Wryna didn’t feel warm… or cold. Just… neutral.
The Calen elf also had no scent, Reyth realized. She felt the body, felt one of her hands close around Wryna’s wrist, felt the weight as the tumble ended with Wryna atop her grappling Reyth’s other wrist. Tails entwined, but that strange neutral temperature was like a corpse slithering tail over hers, sending a chill through her spine.
Her heart pounding, blood roaring in her ears, her lungs burning, Reyth could do little as Wryna – or the cold, scentless facsimile of Wryna – leaned in and… nipped the tip of her ear.
That sent a jolt through Reyth, a shrill gasp forced out. The ears were sensitive and grabbing them in a fight was a standard way of subduing another elf, but nibbling like that… it was almost intimate, and it made Reyth very confused. None of the other signals Wryna was giving off indicated any sort of attraction.
While Reyth was still trying to put her thoughts together, Wryna’s muzzle pressed up close to one ear, and she whispered in an archaic, heavily-accented breath.
“Sorry, this might hurt a little.”
And then, abruptly, Wryna was gone. She hadn’t let go, she hadn’t moved. One moment she was there, and the next Reyth was flat on her back, alone, without even the scent of another elf to tell her that the Calen was ever there. Her tunic was scuffed and stained with grass and dirt, her legs and lungs burning with fatigue, and numerous bruises now made their complaints known.
Reyth knew she was already close to unlocking her third slot, but a fourth slot was a very rare blessing. None of her lifetimes had ever done such a feat. She wondered why it had happened so suddenly now, and why Wryna had apologized to her for these small aches and pains. These were nothing compared to actual injuries she’d gotten even in this lifetime, let alone others.
“SKYEEEAAAAAAA!!!”
The shriek came on Reyth suddenly as her entire body lit up with pain. Her arms, her legs, her stomach and heart and head all felt as if thousands of needles were plunging in all at once, violently filling her with fire, with cold, with…
Mana.
Even as the pain grew, Reyth understood. Past lives had been casters, and enough knowledge lingered for her to understand. Her mana conduits – all of them – were being forced open. She could remember that stressing them after too much spellcasting caused an intense ache. This was far worse than that, every pain hitting at once, all at once… and climbing.
All nine Mana Points in her body exploded in further pain. Her capacity doubled, tripled, and further climbed higher and higher. She wasn’t leveling up, this was forcing her body to accept the possibility of another class, where none had been allowed.
The pain escalated.
She could hear footsteps running toward her now. Distantly she realized she was still screaming. Her vision was fading fast, narrowing into a tunnel as she felt her consciousness slipping away. Escaping the pain by knocking her out in self-defense.
In the moments before she slipped into the darkness, she saw another notification.
Scramble
Invictus Shakes: A Gladiator Slice of Life
by Mila Anemoia
To taste glory, gladiators must bring a whole new flavor to the arena or die trying.
Salve! Welcome to the Imperium Aeterna, where the gods decided to cut out a piece of ancient Rome and keep it to themselves. I'm Maximilia, owner of Invictus Shakes. You'll find my smoothie bar across from the realm's best gladiator school—the one started by the champion, who, funny story, also adopted me.
Whatever the occasion, I've got the drink for you. Training hard? Fuel with the Fortis Aqua. Partying harder? Recharge and recover with the Raucous Bacchus! Won big betting on who died? Well, you can live it up like a god with real gold flakes. And I've also got the latest rumors to go with it.
So, get this. People think the mysterious territories appearing are from the world we left behind. But what I want to know is what kind of warriors they'll have fighting in the next games. Because I'm already praying to the gods I don't end up handing them their last drink. There's a lot more to these gladiators than guts, glory, and good looks.
Alright, stop staring at their muscles and...hey, eyes up here! So, what can I get you?
Ingredients to expect:
- Slice of Life, drama & action
- Found family
- Gladiators vs other cultures
- Complex characters & relationships
- Flirting & romance/slow-burn
- Humor & tragedy