Steel and Mana

Chapter 352 – Vash’Rah

A forest, a jungle, or maybe a mix of both, where nature was growing wild and uncontrolled, home to creatures that defied nature's laws. Within it all, surrounding a massive, lone mountain, stood a black city. The last bastion of the Vasa bloodline.

The ground trembled beneath the obsidian walls of Vash’Rah, the carved faces on the walls bombarding a tide of two-legged, three-headed creatures, trying to get through the ash-covered foot of the mountain just to be dosed in molten lava, made to disappear in a flash. Above them, blackened towers rose toward the sky, their edges worn smooth by the endless spells of fire and ash that poured out from the magic formations glowing around them. Still, no matter what the forest threw at it, the city stood defiant for more than two millennia, growing into a labyrinth of molten rock and obsidian, its buildings carved directly into the volcanic stone of the mountain, going high up to its edge. The Vasa had adapted to their harsh environment a long time ago, even enjoying it while using the volcano’s heat to power their forges and create weapons and armor infused with the essence of the monsters and their remaining cores going into their defensive formations. Their use of magic was both ancient and refined to a level that was unheard of on the other side of the faraway mountain range. The one that was visible from the top of their volcano on a clear day.

As the invading beasts were dealt with down below, the rumbling failed to stop. The reason was simple: the tremors were not from an external assault—no beast had breached their outer defenses. No, this disturbance came from within the heart of the volcano itself.

Deep beneath the surface of their home, in the grand chamber known as the Core Sanctum, the Vasa's Sect Master, Zah’Ratul, knelt before the pulsing fissure of molten rock. The heat should have been unbearable to any, but for his bloodline, it was like a summer breeze. Still, even he was sweating, eyes closed, concentrating, the engravings on his body visible and glowing, forming a spell. In his grasp was a skull-sized CC, pulsating in a distinct matter, resonating with the engravings on his body.

As he held it, the CC slowly lost its luster, calming down the tremors. Through it, the beast sealed down in the belly of the volcano was also being subdued, returned to rest in the churning lava, and pushed back into its hibernation.

"Go back to sleep, Ignis Primordia," Zah'Ratul grunted at the fire monster, commanding, his mind connecting with the beasts, overriding its instinct, the need of wanting to break free.

The Vasa’s ancestors had bound it within the volcano, using the beast's energy to sustain their city. Yet the seal required constant maintenance, and the monster’s influence seeped into the Vasa’s bloodline throughout the years, granting the monster its own will. Something it had steadily nurtured in the past five hundred years, already sprouting a pseudo-intelligence, making it want to leave its prison with increasing frequency. Which... put them in a precarious situation. Whenever it awoke, the monsters of the land were drawn to it. If it ever broke out, the city would lose its core, becoming vulnerable... And worse, it would probably kill them all.

"We need cleansing..." Zah’Ratul muttered, finally subduing the monster, focusing on the feeling he had perceived years ago. It was something that ignited hope and excitement between him and the other elders of the bloodline.

The heir to the Vasas had returned. They just needed to bring the one here to... free them.

Feeling a bit exhausted, Zah’Ratul rose, his crimson robes billowing from the heat. He watched the churring of the lava subside, returning to calmness before letting a long sigh escape his throat. Nodding to himself, he turned to the chamber’s guards, warriors clad in charred scale armor, each bearing the burning flame-like sigil of the Vasa Sect, wielding bone-made spears with runes within them.

“Summon the elders. At once.”

The guards did not hesitate. They moved swiftly, disappearing into the winding halls of the inner sanctum, while Zah'Ratul took one last glance and headed out to the meeting hall of his Sect.

Within the hour, the great council chamber was filled. The remaining Vasa leaders, all of them responsible for different aspects of their Sect, sat around a white bone table, wearing the same crimson robe but with differently colored shoulder capes. At the table's center, a swirling flame lit up the windowless room, emanating from a monster's core, flickering without giving out any heat.

Zah’Ratul, the only one standing from his chair, looked at the twelve others, noting the subtle expectations under their calm exterior.

“Ignis is frequently agitated nowadays. His latest attempt was weak, feeling more like a probing. I am afraid that it has reached a new level of intelligence and began probing attacks.” He began his voice serious, speaking warningly. "If it is now capable of making plans, I don't know how long are we going to be able to hold it down.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the chamber. Some were skeptical, others grave, and some sounded even afraid.

“Are you certain?” Grand Elder Myrah, a woman whose knowledge spanned generations of Vasa teachings, narrowed her eyes.

“Beyond doubt.” Zah’Ratul’s eyes burned with certainty. “I felt its mind. There are now thoughts in it that are being hidden before me.”

The murmurs turned into hushed exclamations at once. Some clenched their fists in silent dread, and others exchanged wary glances, wanting to hear a solution, but nobody had one. Not really.

"How long... until it escapes?" Myrah asked, voicing the question nobody wanted to utter out loud.

"A century." Their leader answered after a momentary pause. "Or less."

“This means the prophecy is at hand,” Elder Kaelus said, his voice careful, with a tinge of hope. “The time of our exodus is near. Wasn't it honored Sect Master Roh, who said he had a vision? That when the Primordial Fire erupts, our road to the Heavens open?”

"The text does say that," Zah’Ratul nodded, but his voice was uncertain as he quoted the teaching that made the group cling to life for the past millennia, "The Gods will welcome us into the Cosmos, to their domain. But if we can't control Ignis and use it to open the path to their Heaven, we are only going to see Hell and its fire.”

A heavy silence fell over the chamber, listening to his warning. They all knew what he meant. To leave this world, to break free of the realm that had imprisoned them for millennia, to reach the goal Roh Vasa had and almost succeeded with, they had to survive. And wait for a true Vasa to appear.

Their bloodline was no longer adequate to open the gates. Fleeing to this accursed land, living amongst the monsters, using them, eating them... it transformed their blood—all of it. The Gods' protection put on the mountain range barred them from entering it and stopped them from ever going home. They were now only beasts.

“The prophecized ones had been already born. We must make our presence here known to them,” Zah’Ratul continued. “I already made contact with them, although their powers are weak, and they couldn't understand me. I even felt the descendants of Roh... weak, but... It is there.”

As if on cue, a deep tremor rumbled through the foundations of Vash’Rah, not from the volcano—but from something outside.

A beast had come. Probably still feeling the residue of Ignis's awakening a few hours ago. The council members tensed, but only because they thought it was Ignis again. Realizing it was coming from the outside, none of them bothered with it anymore. They were Vasa. A lone bastard was not worthy of them making a personal appearance.

Zah’Ratul, in response, raised a hand, and from the shadows, a group of armored warriors stepped forward. They were the elite hunters of the Sect, their armor crafted from the hides of the same beasts slain in battles by themselves, crafting their own weapons from their bones. It was the law of the jungle, quite literally. They killed and ate their enemy, gaining their power. There were no other alternatives anymore... not after they were unable to return to the other side. Not that they really wanted... Their sight has been, for two thousand years, set on somewhere else, outside of this despicable realm that betrayed them.

“See to it to be removed,” the Sect Master commanded the warriors. “Let no beast disrupt our meeting.”

The warriors, all of them with long, braided red hair, nodded and vanished into the corridors, heading toward the outer defenses. Their scaled armor tightened like a suit, reinforcing their muscles and covering their heads, turning them into differently-looking beast-like humanoids.

"Now," Zah’Ratul turned back to the council. “We cannot falter. We must hold this city until we can get a message through and lure the one to our city. When the time comes, and he frees us, we will leave this wretched place behind. We will head out to the Cosmos, as it was always meant to be. This world no longer tolerates us, and we don't tolerate it either.”

"How long will that take?" Grand Elder Myrah asked again, her voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "We must do everything in our power to make sure they KNOW we are here, that they come to us.”

"We will..." A faint smile, rare and sharp, crossed Zah’Ratul’s face. "Still, it will take time, probably even decades. But they will come for us. The call of their blood will make sure of that."

“True,” another Grand Elder spoke up. “Blood calls to blood. When the moment is right, they will feel it. And when they do, we will show them the way.”

Another tremor shook the chamber, but Zah’Ratul did not flinch, not even when a mournful death cry echoed all around the mountain.

“We are close, my brothers and sisters,” he declared, his voice cutting through the room and all of its tension. “Soon, we will be free!”

...
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Our daughter was born on one of the hottest days. It happened in the middle of lunch when Mikan simply stood up, announcing that her water just broke... and then, only an hour later, she was out, coming into the world without any issues. I don't think I even heard Mikan groan in pain at all while giving birth to our daughter. She simply kept smiling and pushing... Once she was out and cleaned, it was evident from the start that she was also magic-sensitive, something that her mother could feel the moment she held her in her arms. Debating only for a little while, we named her Morgan in the end as we gathered around Mikan. My mother nodded her head repeatedly and stood behind Luna.

"Good, good. Finally, there will be enough with you also giving birth." My mom hummed, holding Luna in place, who was pleading with me to free her from my mother's grasp. Sorry, Lucchy.

"Weren't you wanting a hundred kids?" Yuri asked, giggling, only to receive dagger-like stares from Sasha and Luna.

"I wasn't serious." Mom shrugged, making Sasha blink in surprise... I think she believed it when my mother said that years ago. "Do you want to wrangle my son dry? So much so he dies?"

"Not if he dies..." Yuri pouted while Arthur, Leyla, and Lancelot were curiously up on the bed, watching Mikan and their newest sibling, Morgan.

"Exactly." Mother continued, "This will do. If more come, I won't complain, of course. But health is above all else!"

"True!" I nodded, looking at my already pretty big family, feeling proud as my eyes scanned the room, "The next few years look... promising. With peace returning, I think... It will be the best years of our lives."

Which wasn't wrong. I just hoped that it wouldn't be the calm before a monumental storm.