Dust from the Iron Plains still clung to Kael’s worn cloak. Stonehaven’s bustle met him with a stark contrast to the desolate lands he’d traversed. A hungry ache gnawed at his stomach, but a deeper curiosity pulsed beneath it. He sought answers, not just food.
Into the heart of the settlement, Kael found an inn called the Stone Hearth. Its rough-hewn timbers groaned under the weight of years. A warm, earthy scent of stew and stale ale filled the common room.
He found a quiet corner table. A young woman, Elara, approached, her apron dusted with flour. Her gaze, quick and assessing, softened into a weary smile.
“Fresh from the road?” she asked, her voice like gravel sifting. “What can I get for you, quiet one?”
Kael ordered ale and a bowl of whatever stew simmered on the hearth. “Searching for information,” he murmured, the words feeling foreign after days of silence. “About bounties, if there are any.”
Elara leaned closer, wiping a spill from the table. “Bounties, you say? Ah, that’ll be the Stone Council Archives. Center of the city, grandest spire you ever saw. Ask for the Registrar of Vein-beast Claims.”
Kael blinked. “Stone Council Archives? Registrar?” He hadn’t heard such terms in his secluded life. A faint blush crept up his neck.
Elara chuckled, a surprisingly melodious sound. “You really are from the deep wilds, aren't you? Archives are where the city’s business happens. Registrars, they're the Council’s word-keepers.” Her smile, though amused, held no malice.
She explained further as she served his stew, a rich, savory broth that warmed him from within. “Why the interest in bounties? Not one of those… Beast-Slayers, are you?”
Kael paused, spoon midway to his mouth. “Beast-Slayers?”
“Those folk who think killing a Vein-beast will make them wielders of the Stone-power,” she clarified, lowering her voice. “A lot of desperate souls out there, hoping to climb the social strata. They say it’s how the old ones gained their gifts. A dangerous gamble, mostly.”
A cold knot tightened in Kael's stomach. He remembered his own battles, the raw, ancient energy he’d drawn from the earth. He hadn't sought it, merely survived. His power felt different, innate, not a prize for a kill. Yet, the desperation she spoke of was familiar.
---
A heavy hand clapped Kael's shoulder. He flinched, muscles tensing, a subtle rumble of stone-power stirring just beneath his skin. He turned. A man in his late thirties stood there, unkempt beard framing sharp, knowing eyes.
“Elara, don't fill the lad with such nonsense,” the man boomed, his voice rough as grinding gears. “It’s not just superstition. It's the truth. I've seen it, felt it, the essence of the stone shifting in a man after a hard kill.”
Elara gasped. “Valerius! You’re back! I thought the wastes had claimed you for good!”
“Not before I tap into the deep earth itself!” Valerius declared, a wild glint in his eyes. Behind him, three burly men lumbered in, spears and hammers slung across their backs, their faces grimed with dirt and purpose.
Kael gently shrugged off Valerius’s hand. “You speak of gaining power from a Vein-beast?” His voice was low, careful.
Valerius grinned, a flash of uneven teeth. “Ah, another seeker of truth! Young one, the ancients say the Stone-power, it bleeds from the land itself. Vein-beasts, they’re creatures steeped in that primal force. Kill one, claim its essence. Simple as chipping rock from a quarry.”
He gestured to his men. “We're a fellowship of four. Claimed three beasts already. Close to the breakthrough, we are!” One of his men grunted in agreement, another slapped his chest.
Kael’s mind reeled. Three beasts? The leopard he’d faced, a creature of raw, concentrated power, could have torn these men to shreds. He imagined their struggles. “And have any of you... become wielders of the Stone-power?”
A wave of booming laughter erupted from Valerius's men, echoing through the inn. Even Elara smiled faintly.
“Wielder of the Stone-power?” Valerius wiped a tear from his eye. “Lad, in all of Stonehaven, perhaps four wielders exist: the Archon and his three Stone-Guard. If one of us had such power, we wouldn’t be grubbing for coin on the outskirts!”
He frowned, eyeing Kael’s plain tunic. “You, too, seek the beasts? Your gear seems... lacking. No weapon to speak of?”
Kael hesitated. He drew a small, smooth stone from his pocket, the size of a pigeon’s egg. Then, he pressed his thumb into the earth floor, drawing a thin, strong sinew of solidified earth, shaping it into a simple loop, a slingshot of bedrock and sinew. It pulsed faintly, a subtle thrum of deep earth energy. He didn't demonstrate more. The true strength of his manipulation remained hidden.
Valerius’s men exchanged glances. One leaned in. “That for slinging stones, eh? Looks well-used. What size rocks?”
“Egg-sized,” Kael replied, the bedrock sling vanishing back into the earth as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the mundane stone in his hand.
“Enough to crack the skull of a burrow-hound, or a skitter-rat,” another mused, nodding. “You're not after the big ones, then. Those beasts born from rabbits or foxes, they're common near the city's edge.”
Kael understood. Their prey were the smaller, less formidable Vein-beasts, not the apex predators he’d encountered on the plains. His goals diverged sharply.
“We could use a marksman with your eye,” Valerius offered, a glint of calculation in his gaze. “Join our hunt. We split the bounty, share the glory.”
Kael shook his head. “Thank you, but no. My path lies elsewhere.”
Valerius scowled, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. “Pity. But the offer stands, should you change your mind.”
---
Later, Kael climbed the creaking stairs to his room. The bed, though stiff, offered more comfort than the cold ground. Voices drifted up from the common room below, muffled by the wooden floorboards.
“Valerius, why did you even bother with that scrawny youth?” A voice sneered. “He looked like he’d cry if a strong wind blew.”
“He barely had a stone to rub against another!” another added, a harsh laugh following.
Just moments ago, they'd shown camaraderie. Now, their words dripped with derision. Kael had seen such duplicity before, in his own village. He felt no anger, only a familiar weariness. People, he mused, wore many faces.
Valerius's voice finally cut through their mockery, softened by distance. “He reminded me of myself, once. A lad adrift, with little but his wits. The world devours such souls without a proper weapon.”
“You’re too kindhearted, hyungnim,” one of his men grumbled.
“Perhaps,” Valerius conceded. “But a kind heart keeps a man human, even when the world tries to grind him into dust.”
Kael closed his eyes. Both kindness and cruelty, he knew, were etched into the very stones of existence.
---
A breakfast of coarse bread and watery soup settled in Kael’s gut the next morning. He left the inn, heading for the city’s heart. The Stone Council Archives dominated the skyline, a grand edifice of dark, polished basalt, stretching four stories into the grey sky.
Inside, a controlled chaos reigned. Citizens milled about, their voices a low drone. An elderly couple argued over a property deed. Kael navigated the throng, seeking the bounty official.
He found him behind a high desk, a man with a perpetually pinched expression. “What business?” the official grunted, his gaze sliding over Kael’s simple attire, assessing him as a vagrant.
“Bounties,” Kael stated. “For Vein-beasts.”
A sneer flickered across the official's face. If Kael had revealed his true mastery over stone, this man would be bowing low. But showing his hand meant entanglements, obligations to the Archon or his Stone-Guard. A quiet hunt, a swift departure – that was his plan. There was no need to risk his anonymity.
“Don't touch it, just read,” the official snapped, sliding a parchment across the counter. It detailed various Vein-beasts: their appearance, size, known habits, and the promised rewards. Weak, non-hostile creatures required live capture. Dangerous ones, those that preyed on humans, demanded their corpses.
He delivered a stern warning. “Careful. If you kill a beast, you bring the remains back. Leaving it behind, its residual magic can fester, birth a restless revenant. Such abandonment is a capital offense in Aethelgard. The Stone-Guard must disperse its lingering essence.”
Kael listened, a chill tracing his spine. He remembered the horrors he’d witnessed on the plains, the corrupted energy twisting the land. He etched the warning into his memory. “Some of these seem... dangerous for ordinary folk. Do the Stone-Guard not handle them?”
The official scoffed, a dry, rattling sound. “The Stone-Guard defend the city walls, maintain order. They don’t chase after overgrown rodents. That's for drifters like you, seeking a quick coin.”
Kael’s gaze fell to the parchment.
~~~~~~~
*Shadow-wing Corvid*
*A crow of unnatural size, its feathers hardened to obsidian shards, sharp as blades. These lethal plumes can deflect arrows and are launched as projectiles from high altitudes. It hunts near the city’s periphery, preying on unattended livestock or small children, leaving only shattered bones in its wake...*
~~~~~~~
A bitter taste filled Kael's mouth. If wielders of the Stone-power were protectors, shouldn’t they prioritize such threats? Yet, it seemed their pride lay in grander battles, not in safeguarding the vulnerable.
---
Kael left the Stone Council Archives, a weight settling on his shoulders. He moved towards the city’s outer districts, where the grand stone buildings thinned, giving way to rougher dwellings and eventually, the untamed wilds. Familiar air, tinged with the scent of damp earth and distant pines, filled his lungs.
Time to begin. He focused on the Shadow-wing Corvid, the beast that preyed on children, its description burning in his mind.
“Earth Sense: Corvid Resonance.” Kael extended his senses, seeking the distinct vibrations, the minute shifts in stone energy associated with his target.
Hundreds of echoes crashed into his awareness: the rustle of ordinary feathers, the scrape of tiny claws on branches, the faint thrum of countless avian hearts. An overwhelming din filled his mind, like a thousand tiny hammers tapping on bedrock.
“Ugh.” Kael recoiled, the sudden assault on his senses nearly buckling his knees. He severed the connection. The sheer volume of mundane life drowned out anything specific.
This won't work. His abilities, so precise in the desolate plains, were blunted by the teeming life near the city. How to isolate his quarry?
A crow with potent stone energy? He tried filtering the Resonance, setting the condition for a strong, localized energy signature. Nothing. The Stone-power didn't manifest in a way his innate senses could isolate through a general 'power' filter among mundane creatures.
Next, he sought resonance with crows that had consumed flesh, that carried the unique, faint echo of life taken. Too many. Scavenger birds were abundant on the city’s edges, feasting on refuse, on carrion, perhaps even on the remains of other, smaller animals fallen to the Shadow-wing.
Kael paused, pushing his fingers into the soil, feeling the ancient, silent pulse of the deep earth. A new strategy was needed. One that accounted for the intricate, cluttered layers of life in Aethelgard’s shadow.