Gaius Antonius & Katha Theodoros - Changing Seasons
There was something to be said about being invincible under Qi Condensation. When your skin is proof against all physical attacks under Core Formation, when your speed befuddles even those in Foundation Establishment. Incredible power, unearthly speed, and an ocean of Qi to fuel her abilities. It is the dream of all Cultivators who have just begun their journey, to become unrivaled beneath Heaven and demonstrate peerless foundations.
As someone who
has become invincible under Qi Condensation - broadly speaking of course, nothing was absolute and invincibility topped that particular list - however, a particular silver-streaked redhead was finding it was something of a crapshoot even
with all the advantages. Her skin could not be hurt except by the blows of Core Formation, sure, but she now had rust to deal with.
Rust. She was down to only needing half an hour every morning to clean herself off and could probably break that down to ten minutes or even five, but that was a miserable additional responsibility to keep track of and it was unreasonable considering that, last she checked,
she lived in a bloody desert.
Speed that terrifies Foundation Establishment? Excellent on paper, but without the cognitive enhancements of the Second Great Realm she was limited to linear lines of approach,
and if her focus wavered for a second she could easily clock herself in the head by waving too hard. Incredible power? That just made the speed issue worse. Ocean of Qi? Constantly expended so she didn't sink up to her hips on the sands and start wrecking priceless antique furniture by accident, or so she didn't
literally shatter the bed beneath her. The last time she had an actual fucking sleep in her actual fucking bed was
before she left for the Poison-Crushing Siege. It sure was a good thing that meditation could substitute for sleep at her level, because otherwise she might legitimately die of sleep exhaustion.
All in all, her experience as the current-strongest Qi Condensation Junior that the Golden Devil Clan has to offer has only shown her that invincibility was a crapshoot and she should have kept her fucking hands
off the incredibly suspicious pool of shining iron,
Katha. You stupid cow.
Suddenly caught up in a fit of rage, Katha Theodoros could only breathe deeply and exhale sharply as she sank deep into the couch in the living room of her ancestral home. It had been a few months since her adventure with Cerina in the Beast-Raising Forest and the experiences she shared within - both the retrospectively-funny ones and the frankly-terrifying ones - and she had managed to get a bit of a grip on her new physical state of being. But a bit of a grip was not enough to live on. She was, and remained, too fast for her own good.
And keeping the sofa - which, notably, is already horribly reinforced to an insane degree - from shattering under her weight was ensuring that the relaxing efforts of lounging on a couch are being largely canceled by the constant impression on her mind. Which was just fine and dandy, wasn't it?
Especially since she'd just gotten a particular letter in the mail that she did not officially receive and which did not officially have the Second Elder officially offer her official clandestine missions that may or may not be morally suspect and have major diplomatic consequences
but will also provide great benefits to the Clan if performed to expectations.
When it rains, it pours. And the shit just
kept flying.
At least there was a silver lining, now. Her brother was finally getting married. Rathos Theodoros, idiot nerd extraordinaire, the elder twin son of the late and great Riala and one of the 3rd Legion's newly appointed Centurions, an Array Master with few peers. Who had gotten engaged something like forty years ago, but the marriage was put off until both sides were in Foundation Establishment, largely so they - as far as she was aware, mostly the
Theodoroi - could get their ducks in a row and negotiate from a position of actual strength once the ceremony could actually begin.
Well, it had happened. Rathos was an Expert now. He punched the Lightning in the face and came out stronger for it. And curvier, because he'd gone ahead with the wild idea of performing the Whirlpool Yin Art, because despite being a Cultivation genius he decided that he needed to go
faster.
Katha hissed, the air escaping through the gaps in her teeth. No, that wasn't it. She was just being needlessly bitter because she was under a lot of pressure from the everything going on in her life. Rathos did it for perspective, not for power. Though, honestly, in the Realm of Philosophy they were the same thing, more or less.
Just as how the marriage was literally just a Great House trying to get its horse hitched to a resurgent House Theodoros once they realized that
she just jumped from the First to the Twelfth in ten years and they just so happened to have a finger in the pie already, through crazy fortunate happenstance.
Another hiss. More bitter musings. She should probably just lie down on the field outside and think about life. That might help her get her mind off this wedding, so that she could be happy for her brother for his literal wedding.
"What I'd give for help managing this weight problem, though," Katha said with a grumble as she rose to her feet, one hand circling her belly button as the other hung loosely by her side. A bitter chuckle as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Hah, not likely. Imagine someone like that just throwing the doors open with a bang, while everyone's preparing for the wedding…"
Then, on cue, the doors flew open with a bang.
"I've heard that a cardinal sin is being committed in this house…" A boisterous voice cried out, as a tall, ominous figure strode purposefully across the stone floor. The wide brim of his hat cast his face in shadow, but three gleaming eyes could be seen within. "I've heard that someone has begun to fear her own strength. Is that true?"
Katha simply stood there, watching the shadowed specter with bleary eyes. This was not the first time a cloaked, behatted stranger simply strode into her home, irrespective of the bells. It would not be the last, either. She'll just roll with it. Her fuse was short enough with trying not to break the floors, anyhow. "Probably. Who's asking?"
"A man who knows just how beautiful strength can be." Reaching up, the man plucked the hat from his head, tossing it aside to reveal his face. It was a man Katha had seen here and there, what felt like a lifetime ago. Before his ascension, this man had studied generalship at the Theodori estate; though they hadn't had many conversations, he'd left somewhat of a strong impression on her.
Gaius pointed at Katha and quirked his mouth up into a grin. "You're amazing Katha, you really are. You're so strong, you can't even keep up with it. That old man asked me to help you out with that problem."
He looked markedly different from before. Leaving aside the third eye and more exaggerated body language, Gaius' clothes had taken a turn for the more colorful, swapping out his usual blacks and browns for blues and greens, with a few gold rings and necklaces to help complete the ensemble. He was even wearing a bit of makeup.
"...Right, before that." Katha rubbed her eyes and had to blink several times, just in case her eyes had been failing her. Sadly, no such luck. The man in front of her was, indeed, Gaius Antonius. With a new attire, new accessories, new tastes and… A new eye. That was… something.
But it
was still Gaius. And he
was right in front of her. So.
…So on further reflection, asking him about the Cloud Caves right now would be a bad idea. Because this was a fairly drastic change, so she needed to get a better handle on the man he had become instead of the man he
was before asking a question this sensitive. Especially one that changed the dynamic of the Region… Somehow.
"Nevermind," she walked back immediately. Still, the bitterness remained, and she couldn't help
but unload on the Single Pillar King. He could take it, and he was here. It was unfair, but frankly she was in a place beyond caring right now. "So, grandfather asked you to help me. How, exactly? I've challenged the Foundation beasts of the Beast-Raising Forest and all I've done besides kill them is get poisoned and suffer a flu. If you're going to ask me to hit you until you tell me to stop, then I'm not sure that's going to help, Gaius."
Gaius wagged his finger playful. "I've got a few ideas. It'll be a learning experience for us both. In fact, I think I understand at least some of the problem."
He sat down, took a deep, focused breath, and out of his ring sprang a huge, multicolored fish, which swam through the air around Katha lazily. "You see, my friend here, Scylla, she's a little bit like you. Blessed with more power than she knows what to do with. Sacred Beasts have more than twice as much qi as animals of the same size, you see, and Proto-Dragons have more qi than most Sacred Beasts."
"Now, I wonder if you can figure it out…" Scylla said, her mental voice echoing inside Katha's head.
"What it is that Dragons do to get a handle on their own strength?"
Katha thought briefly on the topic, clenching her eyes tightly shut as she blinked. Dragons… She didn't know a whole lot about dragons. Apparently the great progenitor of the Vanguard killed a dragon and presented their corpse to the Imperator once, though that was probably just allegorical. Not much was said about the dragons
themselves… And her own experience with Shu was probably anecdotal at best.
…But, wait. Shu
was a dragon. That was good enough, wasn't it? Now, how did Shu get a handle on her strength…
"Last I checked, Scylla," Katha said aloud, "They just claimed they weren't Geniuses despite naturally having a natural talent for manipulating all five elements. I don't know many dragons, you see. So, how
does a dragon get a handle on their own strength?"
Scylla bared her piranha-like fangs in an approximation of a smile.
"They use it."
"...Was that supposed to be profound--"
—-
"Don't sulk, it was just a love tap. I know it didn't hurt you that much." said Gaius, as he lounged atop a huge carriage.
Normally meant to be pulled by a team of Aurochs and capable of carrying tens of tons of cargo, this particular vehicle was being pulled by only one beast today: Katha. She dragged it on and on, pulling several tons of stones along with the weight of the carriage itself.
"How can you ever understand your own abilities if you don't know your limits? Of course you can't control yourself if you don't know what fraction of your strength to use. Our first step is to find those limits together." Gaius explained, lighting up a cigarette as he watched his new pupil labor on.
"The love tap didn't hurt, but falling face first into a sand berm wasn't great, either." Pushing the carriage along was, frankly, demeaning. But it actually was a decent idea, so she went along with it. Gaius still didn't believe it, but her Qi Sense had been pathetic, long ago. Perceiving the flows of Qi in the air and around in the world, even the effervescence from a Spirit Stone, was almost impossible for her. She couldn't even feel where her Meridians
were, let alone open them.
The Overseer of the Man-As-Mountain Array changed that. The reason she has as much success as she does today is down to the efforts of a single psychotic beetle, still searching for a worthy aspirant. The Nascent Scion Beetle, whose horn she continues to wield as a weapon, until the day she can make it something
better.
A smile crept onto her face despite everything. The one who told her that holding back was stupid was Gaius, decades ago. Just as she taught him strategy, he taught her lessons of his own. In retrospect, not using the
Hornsword as her primary weapon was pretty foolish.
With that in mind, Katha pushed harder on the shaft of the carriage, driving it further on. And by applying just a bit too much force…
…The carriage shaft snapped, and Katha fell onto the ground face-first. Again.
There were no words, honestly. Sometimes, the things of this world were just too weak.
She said some anyways. "Imperator's
balls this can't keep happening."
Gaius laughed, hopping off the carriage and landing gracefully beside Katha. "Hey, hey, don't get discouraged, you're already getting better." With a snap of his fingers, the King conjured up a replacement shaft out of his signature hard light, and carefully guided it into place. "You forgot to be mad at me for a while there."
"How can I be?" She asked, still face-down in the dirt. Slowly, her weight overpowering, she continued to sink into the ground, her voice becoming more muffled. "It's nice here in the dirt. It's where I belong."
—-
"Come on, it's not too far, is it?" Gaius asked, idly drinking from a wineskin as he watched a large iron ball crash down to earth hundreds of feet away, not even close to the target. He pointed at the bullseye, which was eight feet across and had barely been touched. The closest Katha had gotten so far was clipping the outer ring.
"You know how to throw a ball. Your body remembers how, but you're not listening to it. You have everything you need to hit that target." He continued, lifting another iron ball out of the massive pile behind him and tossing it into Katha's hand. "It's two hundred pounds, it's not that hard to aim. How'll you ever aim a three pound spear if you can't aim this?"
"Good question." Katha was holding the iron ball upright in her hand. At this point, she'd given up on tossing it up and down into the air. Every time she tried, her fingers just dug deeper channels into the ball, and frankly she didn't want to see if she could crush it in her hand. Because she probably could. She began to line up the throw, the target in her vision and in her mind's eye as well. "I'm gonna preface this next throw by saying that I wasn't very good at javelin hurling
either."
She swung and the ball flew. It was like paper in her hands, barely a tremor in her wrist. But a thousand small actions can add up to make great differences, and such it was so that this throw was like the ones before. They missed the bullseye, while making an absolute mess of another pile of dirt around it, alternatively creating new warrens or obliterating them for the wildlife.
"...Yeah, yeah, I know. Next ball." She held a hand up at Gaius, eyes half-lidded. "What's up with you, anyways? I know my brother's marrying Marlissa, but the wedding isn't for another week, is it?" Truthfully, she had lost track of time, in their bid to exhaust her and reveal the new limits of her body. Sleep deprivation was, naturally, part of it. "It
is still a week from now, isn't it?"
"Me? Oh, nothing." Gaius said playfully, tossing Katha another ball. This one clipped her fingers, and she went sprawling as she tried to catch it, though Gaius paid her no mind. "It's ten days from now, actually. Although, speaking of a week, if you can finish my course with a week left, the wedding will still have refreshments." His tricksy smile grew ever so slightly sinister at that. "Oh, that troublesome fish, ruled by her belly…"
"...Wait." This time, she
did crush the iron ball in her hand. "Wait
did you let Scylla loose in the wine cellar?! MY wine cellar?! THAT WINE CELLAR?!!"
"Well, unless there's another wine cellar around here that you know of…" Gaius shrugged. "Such a savage beast, and to think she's supposed to be sacred." Seeing that Katha had already broken her current ball, he tossed her another.
The reaction was instantaneous and thoughtless. Moving at the speed of reaction, Katha threw the iron ball back at the Single Pillar King as she ran straight in the direction of her home, in the vain hope that she might be able to keep an alcoholic Foundation Establishment Spirit Familiar from drinking all of the alcohol intended for her
brother's actual ass wedding.
Gaius took his sweet time catching up, not arriving until Katha had already reached the building in question, throwing open the door to find most of the casks cracked open and sloppily drained. Quite a bit had spilled out, staining the floor in various shades of purple, yellow and red. Before she could say much more, something shattered against the back of Katha's head, sending her tumbling down the stairs.
"That was rude, kiddo." Gaius called out from the doorway. "This is all for your own good, you know. If it's not a wild party, Scylla'll pace herself, go through a couple of these a week. Looks like you've got four casks left." He hopped down the stairs, pointing out an untouched corner of the cellar.
"You guys can probably make do with two, right? Should be enough for the reception. Well, the two of us will take our leave once you've finished my course. Scylla'll find her drinks elsewhere. Understand?" His instructions finished, Gaius helped Katha up to her feet and patted her on the shoulder.
Katha inhaled sharply, eyes wide with barely contained rage. The last time she tried to hit a Single Pillar King, it did not go so well. The Legatus hit her hard and then kicked her across the face. Trying it against Gaius, even if he isn't
quite at Aretaphilla Myia's level, is just asking to get wrecked. So she contained herself, shoved the outrage deep inside, and let it all out with a heavy exhale. "Fine. Alright, fine." She raised her hand, caught another iron ball tossed by Gaius, and then strode out to the door. From there, she threw it at the target, with proper form and as hard as she could.
It missed. But it was a start.
—-
Georgos Quintia was known widely as a rather dour man. If you pressed him on this, the Patriarch would deny those claims, and tell that 'this is just what my face looks like'. If you asked him why his face looks like that, he would say 'centuries of paperwork'. It was hard to tell exactly what lay behind that carefully calculated neutral expression, but at the very least, he didn't seem to be in an aggressive mood, judging by the feeling in his intent.
Georgos quietly sipped tea across the table from Tormenos as the two awaited the other participants in this discussion. Off to the side stood Rathos and Marlissa, unsure if they were supposed to be sitting too. Marlissa, ever the dutiful girl, was dressed in the finery appropriate to a daughter of the Quintia, and it warmed Georgos' heart to see her take this matter as seriously as she needed to.
Rathos, meanwhile, was dressed in clothes which did not especially flatter his (or was it 'her' now? He'd need to ask sometime.) figure. Nonetheless, the thinner bones of Rathos' face, the narrower shoulders, it couldn't really be missed. A strange occurrence, but hardly the most unusual of body arts out there.
So he intended to fix a deficiency of Yin in his system now to improve his advancement further down the road? Admirable foresight, though it would make the production of an heir a bit more difficult. The bride and groom both squirmed a bit beneath Georgos' scrutiny, but no words were exchanged, and he soon turned back to the Theodoros head.
"It is a pleasant occasion, is it not?" The patriarch said, his understated voice seeming to fill the room through the weight of his words. "A joining like this can only improve our standing, and that of our descendants. This makes two of my granddaughters who have chosen very well for themselves." As he spoke, the Elder cast his gaze around the room wordlessly. The message behind the gesture was clear - 'Why are they late? Why are you making me wait like this?'
For his part, Tormenos Theodoros was just as uncomfortable with the current state of affairs as Georgos appeared to be. He had played the part of appearing absolutely unflappable, of course; any show of weakness in such a place would be pounced upon immediately, to tear him to shreds. He was a Realm lower than the Patriarch of the Quintia, and so he
had to take special care. It wouldn't do for them to do badly against the Quintia here. Even
if only one of the two Houses present was still an actual Great House.
But it was undeniable. Tormenos was also unsettled by the absence of his relatives. The Branches of the
Theodoroi, divided for a thousand years with the death of Nagaeon Theodoros, were highly independent, but they were of the same blood and they were of the same House. They were
branches of House Theodoros, and their tardiness only impressed the weakness of Tormenos' position.
"It is an auspicious occasion indeed," the old man of House Theodoros said, regent-Patriarch for he cannot claim to be the true master of the house. His gaze swept in the direction of those to be wedded, his eyes kinder and more sympathetic. He, too, was in such a position once. It was not comfortable. "I can only consider it a great fortune that our Houses can stand together once more, in this age. The Theodoros and the Quintia share common heritage after all, don't we? Great Houses, each of us."
"Most certainly, yes." Georgos replied with a nod. He took a moment to consider his words. "The Blood of Iron was a force to be reckoned with, long ago, and I believe it shall be again. I only hope that our patronage shall assist you in such matters."
It was an innocuous sentence, if one had not the right ears, but Tormenos was not unwise to this game either. "This alliance with the Quintia has been a long time coming, Elder Georgos. Their children will grow up strong and well, and it will be by our efforts that they will have the opportunity to do so. Wouldn't you agree, Lord Quintia?"
"Indeed." Georgos paused, taking another sip of tea and leaning back slightly. "I dare say, their names will echo through history for ages to come." Tormenos noted right away that he hadn't say
what those names would be. An aggressive play, incredibly forward. Was the old man putting his cards on the table, or was he just trying to bait a response?
Tormenos smiled, and as he stood up to face Georgos properly the door behind him opened. Four more figures joined him on the wings, each of their features closely connected. They were kin, closer than those of the Clan called each other kin. They were
family, by blood and by descent, children of the
Theodoroi all of them. And though they did not all acknowledge that name today, once they did and someday they will again.
Today, though, they stand united in common purpose: to keep the Quintia from staking their claim on a family that was just as old and just as esteemed, just because they currently had the upper hand in wealth, in numbers, and in Cultivators. An uphill battle for sure. But the Vanguard
lived for battle, and
died for war.
"Indeed, indeed," Tormenos said as he stroked his beard. "The
Theodoroi will rise again, with your help, Elder Georgos, as will the
Agamennoi, the
Dianei, the
Charoi and the
Lycurgeoi." He paused briefly, wondering if those were the right names, transliterated into the old tongue. Small nods from each of his extended family solidified his confidence. "Might I introduce you to the rest of young Rathos' elders; Jastion, of House Agamennos; Valeria, of House Dianeid; Tarsun, of House Charos; and Galan, of House Lycurgeos."
"A curious thing to call us for, Tormenos," said Jastion, who stood taller than Tormenos but was just as lean. He had no beard of his own, merely a mustache, but he stroked his chin anyways. "But not unwelcome, either."
"And for their sake, how could we refuse?" Valeria Dianeid asked, her red hair brilliant like a tongue of flame. "It would be untoward if we did not offer the bride and groom our blessings as well."
Tarsun and Galan merely nodded as well, but they said nothing as they prepared a long tapestry, rolled up and bound together with a ribbon of velvet. "For you, Elder Georgos," Tarsun finally said. "An affirmation of our alliance. A good reminder, yes?"
"A good reminder indeed," Tormenos nodded, still stroking his beard. "A good alliance, between good families from the days of old."
Georgos at last seemed at least a bit impressed. "To think there were five branches remaining. I was under the impression that it was just the one." He swept his gaze to each of the branch heads, making momentary eye contact with each of them. "The Blood of Iron is a tenacious thing indeed. So, now that everyone is here…" He leaned back and smiled, spreading his hands in a show of gregariousness.
The look in the Patriarch's eyes was one of wary, respectful amusement, the sort of look one gives to a potential challenger. It wasn't normally the way one would look at a social inferior. An expression of mercy, or the closest thing the man had to it. "Let me be clear, then, to all of you. Were I interested in subsuming your families whole, there would be no Iron-Blooded who do not wear the name Quintia within three generations. But we are a family with a deep respect for history. Consider this a gesture of good faith,
Lord Theodoros."
Before the quavering will of a Core Formation Elder, there is little that four Experts and a Junior can do besides nod. Between each of them, they exchange glances. Georgos sees it, the resentment, the frustration that they are now like this because they lack the strength. In this, he has planted the seeds of reunification. Good. It means that in a few generations, House Theodoros might become a decent ally.
There was cruelty in it, a soft cruelty which bred bitter motivation. To raise up this once great house, he would challenge them, over and over, to meet his measure. Their children would compete with his, and through that competition, bonds of respect would be forged. Resentment would, over successive generations, become solidarity, as the imbalance of the relationship lessened. This was how Georgos' father taught him to raise up the weak: 'You want my respect? Earn it. Rip it from my hands with great deeds.'
"Very good then," Georgos said, gregarious in aspect once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, let us negotiate, as fellow representatives."
----
"It's funny. Didn't I tell you to stop using practice swords back in the day, since the shape was too different from that Hornblade?" Gaius mused, as he tossed another log. Katha slashed it, and it didn't split so much as explode. The blade in her hands twisted and dented a little, but held together. Katha said nothing, though not for lack of anything to say; she had been swinging for days at this point, with heavy compression weights strapped to her arms.
"I'm sure eating my words now, aren't I?" Gaius asked, before pointing to the practice sword in question. "That's five swings without breaking it. You're almost there."
Like the other two exercises, it was entirely simple: cut the log into two pieces and no more, with a sword which would shatter to pieces if not handled with precision. When pulling the carriage, she had learned her strength more intuitively. With the iron balls, she had learned to direct it in only the ways she wanted. Here came the last step: using the right amount, in the right place, at the right time.
"You're standing at the threshold. You already have everything you need to take the last step." Gaius said, hoisting another log. "You should probably switch to another sword though. Good job not breaking it, but I think you've run out of edges."
Scylla was off somewhere, doing whatever it was she did when Gaius didn't mind her. It was mid-afternoon; in an hour or two, that beast would get a craving for something to drink.
Katha took a deep breath, the blunted sword held over her head. She turned to Gaius and finally said some words, not quite smiling but eyes brimming with vigour. "Funny story about the
Hornsword, actually. It's not exactly sharp either. It cuts through just about anything if you swing hard enough because it's nearly indestructible. But it slides unless your angle is perfect, or you're strong enough to simply push it through. Which I am, but I can't assume that will always be the case, or that my blades will always be indestructible."
She adjusted her grip on the practice gladius, fingers drumming as she stretched them one after another, in a wave-like fashion. "Basically, this is actually the perfect opportunity to put this to the test. Do or die, as you could say."
Gaius nodded vigorously. "That's right. So don't die, hero." He threw the log in a shallow arc, set to sail just over Katha's head.
With those words said, the moment of truth came. Katha blinked slowly, the practice sword, slightly blunted and just slightly twisted in a counter-clockwise fashion, firmly in her grip. Strictly speaking, there was probably time to get it right before Scylla drank all of the wedding reception's alcohol - they
did have an hour or two - but that wasn't the point. She wasn't about to blunt another sword for this opportunity.
Inhale. Exhale. As she breathed out, she swung.
In a single motion, the gladius fell and the log fell into halves. Neatly cut, perfectly divided. The culmination of literal hundreds of hours of relentless, repetitive swinging, pounded so thoroughly into her muscle memory that everything had gone numb - not a trivial thing for a body of iron - was finally before her. Success. Do, not die.
Gaius smiled in that moment. Not the smug, provocative looks she had grown so familiar with, but something kinder and more genuine. "Perfect. Beautiful!
Phantasmagoric!" He cheered, clapping his hands.
But she didn't cheer, or punch the air in triumph. Katha simply nodded, exhaled, and then shattered the practice gladius into large metal chunks with a tight crushing grip. Then, she threw the pieces over her shoulder, to be returned to the desert. They were hers anyhow, and she wasn't up for caring about the - honestly trivial - expense. "Right, now that's settled," Katha said loudly, "I'm going to buy Scylla some mead, and then I'm going to take a bath. Unless there's anything else?"
"Nope, you're done." Gaius said, patting Katha on the back. "Wouldn't call it elegant, but it's enough. You should be able to build your skills back up now."
With that, he sauntered off. "It's been… I don't know if I'd call it fun, but interesting for sure. I'll see you at the reception, Kathy."
The pet name would have made her tense up even a week ago, but now it just made her chuckle. "I think you should keep working on the nickname, Gaius," she said with a sad shake of her head. "But it's okay. I'll see you at the reception too. And then…" She paused, mulling over the right words. About what to say. "...Then I'll ask you about
your stories, for a change."
"Just be glad I didn't go with Kitty-Kat!" Gaius turned and called out, laughing. "Sure, I'll tell you whatever you'd like!"
——
Finally, the day had come. And what a day it was.
In warrior cultures, where people are more likely to die young, reproduction is considered particularly vital, for obvious reasons, and becomes enshrined into the cultural consciousness. In more established cultures, with their complex social contracts and teeming piles of official documents, piled so high as to drive most men to madness, this extended to marriages.
In most nations, a Cultivator's marital status was considered an insignificant private matter; so long as the important families had enough heirs no one cared overmuch. Immortals were meant to distance themselves from earthly matters, after all. Amongst the Golden Devils, however, it was almost taboo for one who got out of Qi Condensation to reach the age of three hundred without getting hitched and producing two children. After all, two children meant one replacement for each parent, which meant a self-sustaining population.
Thus, weddings had a special place in the culture of the Clan, as they often did in all warrior cultures. Sometimes, they were done for love, as two individuals who cherish one another enshrine their new union in law, to demonstrate their affection through the exchange and shared stewardship of their resources. Often, it is done for stability, whether financial or emotional. And societally, marriage was critical for the survival of their people.
For the houses of the wealthy and powerful, though, those with legacy to their name, it was often done for political gain. To such families, marriage was not done for love, but for wealth and access. Marriage was not a celebration, but a battlefield, and equality was not something desired at least by those who truly managed the strings of power behind the proceedings. It was cold and it was pitiable, but it was what it was because what marriage represented, the union of resources, was a powerful statement. And the results of that union could often make or break households.
Rare was it for a marriage to be both at the same time. And it was fortunate in a way, yet unfortunate for another. For whilst Rathos Theodoros got ready for his part in the ceremony, dressed as the traditional groom in ceremonial armor despite the feminine form he currently wore, his relatives and soon-to-be relatives waged a war around him that he tried so badly to ignore, yet which his position as heir made impossible to truly push aside.
It was not so simple for Marlissa Quintia, either.
"Remember," Said Axia, tone so clipped it was practically severed and spewing blood. "Exactly one step per second. Elongate your gate by twenty percent of its natural length. Reach the chariot in exactly thirty seconds. Any longer, and you'll give off the-"
"-impression that you're stalling." Marlissa cut in, speaking in exact harmony with her older sister. Axia huffed through her nose, focussing on getting her little sister's hair just right. "And any faster, and I'll look impatient and undignified."
Frankly, this was very light teasing, for how neurotic Axia had gotten about this wedding. Marlissa remembered the older woman being far more relaxed about her own ceremony than she had been about this one, though perhaps she had just kept it in. She'd always been fussing over her and Mara, their whole lives, more than their own mother had, really.
Oh, what was she doing? She should be grateful! This was her wedding day, not a single negative thought ought to be crossing her mind. But they seemed to bubble up nonetheless, like magma from cracks in the earth. This dress was just not her usual style, it felt simultaneously too restrictive and too thin. Her makeup felt so thick that it could be used as armor. And why was the groom allowed to bring a sword, while she had flowers? She was the better swordmaster between the two of them.
"They're not late, right?" Marlissa asked, turning to look her sister in the eye.
Axia clicked her tongue and turned Marlissa's face straight ahead again. "Don't move, I've been working on this for an hour, and I refuse to start over right at the end. And no, they're not late." Her older sister had forced her to grow her hair out longer than usual for the past six months, and was now styling it into some sort of elaborate series of curls which flowed down her back in distinct clusters. The idealized image of a young Golden Devil had a head full of vigorous, curly locks, and this ceremonial styling was an exaggeration of that image. She supposed it looked nice, but just knew that it would be coming apart by nightfall.
A small blessing here was that at least it was only the two of them. Perfectionist that she was, Axia had kicked out all of the handmaidens to get her little sister looking just right herself. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would feel to have five pairs of hands tweaking her this way and that, instead of just one. Even if it did leave her feeling like Axia's little jade doll.
She sighed. Axia really needed a hobby for herself. Like a cat… Or a baby. Her older sister was going to worry herself into misery if she kept this up,
especially considering the man
she got married to.
Time passed, and the remaining preparations passed in restless mundanity. Nothing went wrong, and the ceremonial chariot crested the hill to the north of the Manor with eerily perfect timing. She supposed the Theodori were taking this whole thing just as seriously as her own family.
Axia led Marlissa out to the main foyer, where an aunt handed her a bouquet of flowers which was head-spinning in its complexity. Most of the family was there, which was terrifying in its own right. Even Elders Phoebe and Elektra Quintia had come, standing near the back of the crowd in their own elaborate outfits. They carried themselves stiffly, and seemed to shift here and there when no one was looking - she took a slight bit of enjoyment in the knowledge that evidently, no one was actually comfortable in these sorts of clothes.
The doors were already wide open, as the full mass of the entire assembled family couldn't possibly fit in one room. Many of them spilled out into the area around the entrance, standing far to either side to give the chariot a wide berth. And what a chariot it was! The wheels and inner chassis were of sturdy metal, but the outside was an elaborate mixture of gold and ivory, a towering ten feet in the main chamber. Indeed, the sheer mass of it's artful construction was as if two normal chariots had been fused together. At the head of the whole thing, two Bronze Aurochs pulled it, driven onward by a man Marlissa wasn't sure she'd ever met. Someone from a wayward Theodoros branch, perhaps.
Marlissa's instincts warned her of… not an attacker, but something resembling one. Faster than she could react, someone was looming over her from behind, hand poised to ruin her carefully arranged haircut with a devastating ruffling. In a flash, Axia was there, crushing Gaius' wrist in a grip that could shatter a boulder, and giving him a glare that could do much worse. He chuckled nervously, and she reluctantly let him go.
The chariot arrived, stopping a hundred feet from the Manor, and Axia took that as her cue to go. With carefully calculated steps, she approached her destiny.
----
He had long thought about his wedding, since the day he became a man.
Rathos was not an especially romantic soul, all things considered. Far from it, if he had never chanced into meeting Marlissa then this likely would never have happened. He would probably have had a normal arranged marriage to some woman he didn't know, whom he would touch just enough to produce heirs of his own. Just going through the motions in life, like he had before.
But he
was the heir. From the day he was born, he was the son of the heir of House Theodoros, and after his mother died he simply became the unequivocal heir. Marriage was a powerful arrow in his family's quiver, and one not expended lightly. And so he had thought long and often about how the ceremony would go and how he would carry himself, so he would not embarrass his ancestors.
Which meant that looking at himself in the mirror as his father finished clasping the sculpted male cuirass around his body gave him something of a complicated feeling. Because when he envisioned his wedding day, Rathos expected to still be a man in mind and in matter. Not only in one of those things.
"You'll do just fine, boy," his father, Shu Enya, said to him, and Rathos relaxed. The man had been through this as well, ceremony and all. All men before him had. The
Theodoroi were not a family fortunate enough to tolerate lifelong bachelors. He finished fiddling with a buckle and concluded by straightening the sash around his son's left shoulder, red streaked with silver as was their family's custom. "This is the day you get married. It should be a day for celebration. Doubly so, considering you actually love the person you're getting married to."
"I guess," the young man said with a sigh and an uncertain frown. If one looked past his hair, his eyes and his skin, they could see his twin sister as well, the fair-skinned, red-headed firebrand who insisted on living life at a full sprint and considered the risk of death a selling point for any activity. He turned to his father, who by now had gotten used to his son looking like his daughter - in both ways. "But does it always have to be a political cockfight?"
"Always," Shu Enya said with a solemn and sympathetic nod. "But you are not without allies, Rathos. Your mother's courtship was more difficult. I had to fight her suitors in a ring for nine days before… It doesn't matter. What matters is that today is irrelevant."
Rathos blinked. "You just said that it should be a day for celebration."
"Indeed," the older man chuckled. He was already showing the signs of age, a Cultivator nearing the end of his lifespan. Shu Enya had declined to face Tribulation, for he had little left to strive for. If that did not change, he would likely sacrifice himself in the coming Trials and be honored forever in the annals of the Clan. It would be a good death, but… well, neither of his children were trying to think about it. "But that is an excuse to get drunk and make a fool of yourself on your last day as a wilfully single man. Everything that matters, the bond between you and her, that has existed long before today and I hope will exist long after today. Your grandfather would start on a spiel on the needs of the House and the importance of your role and your duties as heir, but to hell with them. Life is grim enough. Celebrate where you can, and cherish what you have."
"I concur," said the grandfather in question. Tormenos Theodoros, dressed in his own war panoply, radiant bronze taken from his rack for the first time in decades. "The politics of it all are, frankly, stupid. But the game must be played, my boy, because the old bastard Georgos thinks in terms of numbers, not hearts. As if we should stain this day with that sort of nonsense." The old man - truly old despite his appearance, for he was an Expert and almost three hundred - scoffed. He placed a hand on Rathos' side gently, his eyes wrinkled with pride. "When the time comes that
you must play the game, my boy, I hope you can play well enough to remember that it's all nonsense. But today, the web of politics is my concern alone. Enjoy your wedding, my boy."
There was another knock on the door. Gingerly opened, Katha peeked her head in, the last person of this family who was absent. She saw the others inside and stepped in, closing the door behind her. She too was dressed in rare attire, her hair done up for once in long curls and wearing an amber dress. In her hands was a portrait of a woman with black hair and bright blue eyes, smiling brightly as she faced the world with no holds barred. "I just got word from one of my Legionnaires on sentry. The chariot's almost here. You should probably get the bride ready."
"I'm the one wearing the cuirass, Katha," her brother said, and he rapped his sculpted bronze abs for emphasis.
"Yeah, but she's going to wear the pants in this relationship forever."
The siblings looked at one another for a moment, deathly serious, but before long broke out into smiles. Katha stepped forward, hugging her brother with one arm, the other holding tightly onto the portrait of their mother. "Congratulations on getting married, you stupid nerd," she said, eyes wet and trying not to cry.
Rathos returned it. "Don't keep us waiting, you stupid lemming," he said, to his sister's half-burbled chortle. "Alright, enough mushy stuff. I'm getting married, I don't need to look like I'm about to cry."
His father nodded. "Destiny awaits."
----
The walk was a fairly long one, but, mercifully, not
that long. Depending on the distance between the two houses, the ceremony in which the chariot traveled from one to the other could take multiple days. The Theodoros Estate wasn't quite far enough to justify putting down a camp for the night, so the assembled families would simply hoof it for eight hours.
The children, naturally, couldn't handle the entire journey, having not yet begun to cultivate, and the solutions to such problems were numerous. Some simply carried one child under each arm after their feet hurt too much to keep going. Others fashioned slings, carried weaved baskets on their backs, or brought along a pony or small horse for them.
Other than that, though, the journey was to be suffered through without complaint. Even if a marriage trek took an entire week, the procession was expected to bear it with the utmost stoicism, to display their support for this new union. It was one of many Golden Devil practices which bordered on performative masochism.
Katha followed close behind the chariot for the first few hours, speaking with distant relations who she hadn't met in a while. Gaius, on the other hand, stayed farther back, either speaking with Axia and a few Quintia members who hadn't made it to his own wedding, or shmoozing with Theodoros Experts, few as the latter camp were. Eventually, however, the two gradually pulled away from their initial arrangements and approached one another near the middle of the pack.
It was a rare opportunity for them to talk, and Gaius seemed to be in a good enough mood to approach right now. He had even been playing with some of the children earlier, carrying them on his shoulders and above his head. They seemed to appreciate it, at least, even if their parents might not have, and that appeared to have put him at ease. So, here and now, free from talking to some of her aunts who were now suddenly interested in
her relationship status, she took a risk and went for it.
"Hey, Gaius. You free now?"
"Free? Me?" He smirked. "Not at all, I'm a slave. But I am available to talk, if you'd like. Where were we, again?"
"Very funny," she said wryly. "What happened that day? Where were you when the Blood Mist descended?"
Gaius sighed deeply, most of his good cheer seeming to evaporate in that moment. He glanced around, and upon confirming that no one seemed to be eavesdropping, he spoke. "Physically, I was underground… I think. Metaphysically, I still don't understand. My tribulation was an insane haze; I was mostly delirious by the time it started."
He licked his lips, the phantom pain of an eternity without water echoing within him, distantly. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors, the horror stories about what I found on the thirteenth floor. People talk, and I haven't kept it hidden."
She had. But it was just that. Rumors. "People also lie, even when they don't mean to. All I know for certain is that the Blood Mist happened and a lot of people died - and are dying - as a result." She tried not to assign blame. That was not the point of this. She just wanted to know if someone she knew was responsible for all that loss. "Was that you?"
"Are you asking if I chose to make it happen?" Gaius' eyes hardened, but there was an exhaustion that kept the glare from looking truly vicious. "Are you asking if I looked that fucking
thing in the eyes and said 'spread chaos for me, as much as possible'? Of course I didn't. I just…" he shrugged his shoulders, and for the first time, Katha saw Gaius Antonius looking genuinely defeated, without any sass or resistance left.
"I'd been trying to call the lightning down for so long. So very long." He looked off into the distance. "Eventually, it… came down, I think. I went from a dream where nothing ever happened, to one I could hardly understand at all. I ascended, and then I kept diving deeper. Then I come out and some people are calling me a saboteur, or saying I drove their loved ones insane. That apparently the Ma Clan is on the other side of that war up North, because blood rained from the sky, and they
saw me in there."
At some point, the King had started shaking a bit and his hand came up to scratch at the side of his cheek. An old reflex - even when he wasn't allowed to smoke, his hands still tried to touch his mouth on their own when stress overcame him. "Frankly, it's the part I could tell you the least about."
Katha nodded, then. All she wanted to know was his role in it, and it seemed that Gaius Antonius had been a pawn of another power. He was strange and mercurial, flamboyant and obsessive. Melancholic and moody, sometimes. But he wasn't callous. Even if meeting him ultimately deterred her from walking the same path… She was glad to be his acquaintance. Friend, now. "That's fine, then. Even if no one else believes that you didn't do it, I do. Because I know that you're not the sort of person that inflicts suffering on others because it suits your purposes."
"Most people don't. Blame me, I mean. If only because a King isn't strong enough to do anything like that." Gaius took a deep breath and composed himself before continuing. "There are things in that Cave, Katha. Things none of us understand. I'm not sure if it's all some big governing intelligence, or if there are factions. But what I do know is this."
He leaned down, up to Katha's ear, and whispered. "If whatever controls that place wanted, it could overrun the entire Third Sea. From the number of Cores alone, I can assume it's got enough Nascent Souls to do it." With that said, he straightened up, patting Katha on the shoulder. "You're not conquering that cave, you're not colonizing it, if you go in, what you'll be doing is trying to scoop out as much value as possible and hoping it plays nice with you."
Katha nodded. That might be useful information for her Legate, if Aretaphilla decided to listen. "Duly noted. Thanks for answering, and sorry for bringing down the mood." Then, as a peace offering, she held up an entire jug of wine, fresh from the cellar. "Drinks?"
Gaius smiled. "Perfect, you really are a dutiful disciple." He laughed, grabbing the jug and taking a long swig before handing it back. "And I don't mean to be so dour, the Cloud Cave can be fun, when it's not fuckin' with you too much. Each level is a distinct challenge, with a distinct reward. Almost like training exercises."
"...Except if you fail, you die? Incredible." She smirked and held up the jug in salute, then presented a wineglass and poured it for herself, before handing Gaius the entire jug of wine. "Cheers, Antonius. Here's to being related."
Gaius grinned, cocksure attitude returning as easily as it had left, and raised his jug as well. "I'll drink to that."
——
A/N (Swordo): This collab was a long time coming, since I started writing for Katha. I've wanted to collab with no. for a while, given that Gaius is one of the more prolific Seeds and the synergy from the… ridiculousness of Katha's first turn. It was intended to be a young punk meeting a word count monster, but then one thing lead to another and now we're both word count monsters. Funny how things work out. This collab was great and I would love to do another, conditions permitting.
A/N (no.): We've been discussing writing this since early turn 12, but just never got around to it until now. We had to change a lot from the initial plan after all the new things that have happened, but the broad strokes of the whole thing are still there.
We were originally gonna get deeper into the political stuff, but it felt like fluff, so we decided to just focus in on the important things. It let both of us give some secondary characters a bit of much needed fleshing out, as well as explore more Golden Devil cultural traditions.
Writer's block is a pain.
