Chapter Eight

“…And I know all my letters and I can count to a hundred,” Ariya finished explaining to the older woman beside her.

“My, my, what a smart girl you are,” the woman said, somehow sounding both impressed and indifferent.

“Are any of those feats impressive for a girl her age?” Lusya asked.

She was not one for idle conversation, but she was curious. Ariya had spent the past several minutes listing things she could do to the woman, from helping her mother cook to hopping on one leg for ten minutes straight. Why Ariya had ever even attempted the latter was a mystery that remained unanswered.

“Oh, of course they are,” the older woman replied. She must have been in her late sixties at least, with thinning gray hair and a hunch when she walked. “I know adults who can barely count to ten and can’t read two words.”

Lusya supposed that made sense. Much of the populace in any nation was uneducated, particularly those in rural areas. A girl living in a cabin in the woods being at all literate was unusual. Lusya’s perspective may have been skewed. She had been able to read, write, and do math as long as she could remember, so such widespread ignorance was easily forgotten. She did not know who her mother had been, but could only assume the woman had been educated herself, wealthy, or both.

The woman chuckled. “Hopping on one foot for ten whole minutes isn’t something a lot of people can do either.”

“I am unsure why one would want to,” Lusya replied.

“I didn’t say it was useful, dear, just impressive.”

Lusya blinked and nodded. “I suppose that is a fair assessment.”

It would have been a trivial feat for Lusya and any motomancy user of considerable skill, but for a layperson, let alone a child, it did seem quite the act of dexterity, now that she thought about it.

A young man a few seats down threw his head back and let out a loud groan, closing his eyes and pinching at the bridge of his nose as if in pain. “Gah, you guys are so noisy,” he said. “Here I was happy I didn’t have to ride with any brats.”

The wagon bounced from some bump it must have hit and man’s hand slipped, driving his fingers into his eyelids. He grunted and sat straight, blinking and rubbing at his eyes, then he glared at Ariya as though she were somehow at fault.

Ariya was the first and only child in the carriage she and Lusya had ended up in, more-or-less at random. The man had been complaining ever since, though no one else seemed to mind. If they did, they didn’t say so, at least.

Lusya did not reply to him. She had the first time he had had such an outburst, but the older woman had explained that he did not want to start a conversation or argument, he was just “complaining for his own sake.” That was strange. Lusya was aware that people might sometimes speak quietly to themselves when they were deep in thought, but she had never come across someone making clear statements directed at someone else without intending to speak to that person.

The purpose of such an act eluded her and the older woman had not offered any satisfactory elaboration on her explanation. The act itself did not bother Lusya. So long as he kept to impotent whining, it was little more than background noise and she would not begrudge his dislike of children. The mystery surrounding it was much more vexing.

Whether or not Ariya did not understand it either or chose to act as though she did not was unclear.

“You’re mean, mister,” she said, then she made a bleating sound and stuck her tongue out at him.

That was something children did as a gesture of derision or disrespect. Lusya was learning a lot while traveling with these people, which went a long way to making it feel worthwhile. To be fair, they were also making good time. Better, in fact, than Lusya and Ariya would have alone, based on Ariya’s previous pace. The suspicions surrounding Lusya seemed to have been dispelled as well, though she was not sure what she had done to accomplish that.

The young man clicked his tongue and looked away, arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling and his face was red, clear signs the remark had affected him. According to the old woman after previous, similar exchanges, however, he was trying to appear indifferent. Lusya did not know if he had deluded himself into thinking he was succeeding.

The carriage stopped without warning. Lusya braced herself just in time, but several other passengers lurched or toppled over with shouts and screams, the complaining man included. Ariya fell over sideways into Lusya’s lap with a yelp. The child’s rear end almost slid off the bench to drag her to the floor, but Lusya caught Ariya and helped her sit up.

“Thank you,” Ariya said. Her cheeks tinged pink for a moment, then her face lit up into a broad smile. “That was fun. Let’s do it again!”

“I do not think we will be doing that again,” Lusya said. “Nor do I think most of the passengers agree with your assessment.”

“Aw, that stinks.”

People started murmuring to each other, casting nervous glances at the flap that formed the entrance to the covered wagon. Why had the carriage stopped? It was too soon after lunch to be taking another break. Lusya was a bit surprised that so many of the others were picking up on that. They had not always seemed like the most observant bunch.

In the worst case scenario, the convoy may have been under attack. Protecting Ariya would be easy enough in that case, but preventing her from seeing the consequences would be more difficult. The most straightforward course of action would be to flee, but Ariya may still have seen the carnage in that case. Lusya also could not discount the possibility that Ariya would, to some extent, understand they were leaving many of the convoy to die. That left protecting the entire caravan as Lusya’s best option. She was uncertain that was feasible.

The lack of any raised voices or rattling weapons suggested the issue was not a violent one, however. There wasn’t much sound coming from outside the carriage at all, in fact, save for the whistle of the wind and confused whispers from other nearby wagons and their drivers.

Lusya stood. “I will go see what has held us up. Child, come.”

“Yes, Lusya,” Ariya said. She had acquired that more respectful form of address after the incident the other day. Lusya could only speculate that it had somehow solidified her as an authority figure to the child.

Lusya exited the carriage with Ariya in tow and moved to the front of the convoy. Their carriage was toward the middle. Most carriages in that area were for the sick, elderly, or others who would have trouble protecting themselves in case of danger. Children also fit into that category, but they rode with their parents, which scattered them throughout the convoy. Lusya, of course, did not fit into those categories, nor did some of the other passengers she had seen. This seemed to be the result of smaller groups being assigned to whatever wagons had room, with varying levels of consideration for any broader organizational scheme.

The obstacle that had halted their advance was clear as soon as Lusya arrived at the front. Milean and the other representatives stood there, along with a couple of the carriage drivers. A few of the representatives had their families with them, though Milean was—unusually—not among them.

Before the assembly was a stone bridge stretching across a wide river. Or rather, the remains of said bridge. Something had split it in two, leaving a gap around a hundred feet wide in the middle.

“…might of been destroyed in the war,” Buro was saying over the gentle swish and gurgle of flowing water. “These things take time to fix.”

“That seems unlikely,” Lusya said.

The others jumped in surprise and turned to face her. Leas even assumed a rough fighting stance. She had not meant to sneak up on them. Considering the sound of her boots on the bridge’s cobblestone surface, her approach had been rather obvious, she had thought. Regardless, they settled down as they recognized her. It was somewhat surprising they had not come to get her. She had continued to be included in their group for meals, at least, though she was not sure why if they were no longer suspicious.

“What makes ya say that, lass?” Buro asked.

Lusya pointed west. “The fighting was concentrated around the western and central parts of the continent. While the south did see plenty of battle, the southeast was largely untouched. It was not entirely free of conflict, but there would be other signs of battle if one occurred here.”

The southeast seeing so little action was why Father had advised her to start her search there. The conditions lent themselves better to fitting candidates than those that had been hit harder. War and strife bred Malice, after all. She wondered if he had deliberately spared some regions in preparation.

“She has a point,” Milean said. “It still had to have been destroyed recently. Our map is about a year old and it shows the bridge in tact.”

“The local lord or some other noble might have had it destroyed out of paranoia,” Ivon said. She had her child in her arms and bounced as she spoke. Infants found that soothing. Another thing Lusya had learned here, though, she doubted it would ever be useful. “In case the demons did attack.”

Lusya nodded. “Such actions are not unheard of.” She was not familiar enough with any of the regional authorities to know if they would do something like this. She noticed Ariya approaching the point where the bridge broke. The child leaned forward in apparent preparation to peer into the river below. “Child, do not get near the edge. Return to me at once.”

Ariya sighed and slunk back over to Lusya. “Yes, Lusya…”

“Doesn’t really matter what happened, does it?” Leas said with a sigh. “We can’t cross and that’s that.”

“Is there no way to go through the river?” Lusya asked.

On either side of the bridge was an accessible riverbank. They may have been a bit muddy, but at a glance it did not seem enough to pose a problem. The water’s current seemed gentle enough to traverse as well.

One of the drivers shook his head. “Not happenin’, miss. I been this way before. River’s too deep. The horses might make it and some of us could swim, but no way the wagons are gettin’ through that. We’ll just have to go upstream ‘til we find another bridge or a shallow part of the water.”

“I see, that is unfortunate for you.”

“Why are you talking like it isn’t your problem?” Leas asked.

She looked at him. “It is not my problem. It will be trivial to get myself and the child across. It seems we will part ways here.”

“And fuck the rest of us, huh?” Buro asked, though for once he wore a bemused grin instead of a scowl.

“The child is my primary concern.”

“That’s not right,” Ariya said. She pouted and crossed her arms as Lusya’s attention turned to her. “You should take everyone if you can get across. Mama always says you gotta help others, or one day someone’s not gonna help you.”

“I do not foresee myself requiring these people’s assistance.”

Ariya stomped her feet and scowled. “It’s the printable!”

Lusya cocked her head. “Principle?”

“Yeah, that,” Ariya said with a nod. “Plus, you promised not to be mean, so you’ve gotta help.”

That was not what Lusya had promised. Even if one stretched the spirit of her promise to mean that, it had only applied to Ariya herself. However, it was close enough. If Ariya believed that was the promise, Lusya would abide by it rather than fight with the child. This time, at least. In the future, Lusya would have to make the difference clearer.

“If you insist, I will aid them,” Lusya said. She looked to the others. “Give me a moment to consider my options. I was going to carry the child and jump across, using air jumps to supplement if I could not reach. However, I do not believe that plan is applicable at scale.”

“Air jumps?” Izcra asked. “You know motomancy?”

“Yes,” Lusya said.

Izcra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if fighting a headache. “Why did you never mention this before?”

“It was never relevant and you did not ask,” Lusya replied. “Now, silence.”

Izcra opened her mouth to say something else, but Milean nudged her and shook his head. He was smarter than Izcra. He must have realized that if they kept interrupting her thoughts, Lusya would return to her original plan. Too much time spent answering pointless questions would eventually outweigh the inconvenience of mollifying the child.

Her original plan was now unworkable. Motomancy was the art of channeling one’s heart into physical forms and forces. The most basic application was to enhance one’s physical abilities, but it could also be used outside the body. For the most part, this was limited to simple things like emitting shockwaves from blows or creating invisible barriers. It could also be used to create short-lived footholds in the air off which to jump.

More advanced users could sustain such constructs for longer and even create larger, more complex ones.

“Can’t you make an invisible bridge?” Ivone asked. “I’ve heard motomancers can do things like that.”

Lusya cocked her head and blinked. “If any can, they are very few, and I am not among them.”

“You just said you could jump on the air,” Leas said. “How different is walking on it?”

“Very different,” Lusya replied. She jumped a few feet into the air and, at the apex, created a foothold beneath her to halt her descent before it truly began. In less than a second, it gave out and she fell back to land on her feet on the bridge. “That is as long as I can stand on air.”

Buro snorted. “Longer than most people, lass.”

“Perhaps, but not enough to create a bridge.”

He shrugged. “True enough.”

“Do not interrupt me again,” Lusya said. “If you do, I am leaving with the child.”

There were plenty of factors involved in one’s ability to use motomancy. Malice was a vital component, but emotions not tied to Malice were also often said to be necessary. The fact that low-rank demons used motomancy little, if at all, supported that hypothesis. Some posited there was something bound to these emotions—Malice’s equal and opposite—rather than the emotions themselves that facilitated motomancy, but thus far there was no hard evidence for such a thing. Despite the hollow nature of Lusya’s heart and her muted emotions, she met the conditions to use motomancy, and her training and an inherent talent for it allowed her to be somewhat skilled.

However, she was not anywhere near good enough to the get the caravan across. That would require either a construct that spanned the entire gap, or one large enough for a wagon that moved. Both were well beyond her means. Even a Paladin or the strongest of high-rank demons would be hard-pressed to accomplish such a task with basic motomancy.

She could have carried each person, wagon, and horse across with air jumps, as she had planned to do with the child, but that would have taken much too long for Lusya’s liking. With that in mind, she developed a new plan. It would be simple enough. A bit tedious, maybe, but less so than the alternative.

“I have settled on my solution,” she said. She moved ahead of the others, though not quite to the end of the bridge. They started to follow, but she held up a hand for them to stop. “I require some room first.” There was plenty of space and her Blade would have simply materialized within them if there had not been, but she might as well make the process as safe as possible. The others were certain to be upset if they got stabbed because they had gotten too close, even if it was their fault alone. She held out her hand to the side, away from her body and spoke a single word, “Lunera.”

With that, a sword began to appear in the air near her hand. Its shape filled in seemingly at random, different parts forming where they belonged and connecting until the full weapon had been forged, at which point it gained true physical presence and Lusya wrapped her hand around the hilt before it could fall.

The process was fast, taking less than a second. Lunera was a pure white sword from the tip of the blade to the end of the pommel. In the center of the crossguard, where other swords might have had a jewel or other ornamentation set, there was an empty hole around the size of one of Lusya’s finger tips. She gave the weapon an experimental swing. It had been some time since last she had wielded her Demon Blade.

“Gods above and below,” Izcra said, almost as if she were short of breath. “A Sacred Blade!”

Lusya nodded. There was no need to correct Izcra, in part because she was not wrong. The distinction between a Sacred Blade and a Demon Blade, though used by both demons and the mortal races, was an invented one. Demons wielded Demon Blades and mortals wielded Sacred Blades. In truth, however, they were the same thing. A crystallization of one’s heart and soul. The apex of motomancy, though, some disputed if they could truly be categorized as part of that discipline. Hence why they were often collectively referred to as Soul Blades or just Blades.

Demon Blades did tend more toward abilities that did direct harm and there were more Sacred Blades that did not, but even those were general trends. They were not rules and not by any stretch a fundamental difference in nature. Even going by that, however, Lunera would have been classified as a Sacred Blade.

“You’re not a Sacred Knight, are you, lass?” Buro asked.

“I am not,” Lusya said. She had responded a little quicker than was typical for her. Strange.

Though the Sacred Knights held the bulk of mortals who could summon Blades, there were others. They were few and far between among humans, though somewhat more common among relti and, to a lesser extent, tiransa. They also tended not to accrue the same level of fame the upper echelons of the Knights did. That suited Lusya well. Since Blade users outside the Sacred Knights were not well-known, others would assume she was one they had never heard of.

“How will that get us across?” Leas asked with a skeptical scowl.

Milean gave a pensive hum. “I’m sure that will become clear soon enough.”

Lusya nodded. She took her stance and struck. Though to others it may have appeared she was slashing at air, her true target was space itself. The space between her and the other side of the bridge split and warped under Lunera’s blade. While the resulting tear would obey her will to some extent in its shape, structure, and how long it lasted, she was limited by what she could effectively gesture by striking with the sword.

As she finished her work, she stepped back and observed the rift. In an area about as wide as two men standing abreast, the other side of the bridge was a mere step away. She would need to make it bigger for the carriages, but this would do as a test.

“Someone step through to make sure this is workable,” Lusya said. “I am certain it is safe, but it has been some time since I transported somebody else. I have been told it is jarring. If it is too much so, this may not be an appropriate solution.”

There was also the fact that she had never transported a mortal with Lunera. Even high-rank demons had sometimes complained about it. Being Malice itself coalesced into a living being, they were inclined to complain quite a bit, but high-rank demons had a better handle on such tendencies and were more equipped to handle something like this than mortals. She had no reason to believe it would do them physical harm, but the purpose would be defeated if they somehow wound up traumatized or comatose.

Leas stepped forward. His eyes were wide in awe for a moment, but he soon settled into a more familiar scowl. “No one’s just gonna walk into your weird hole in the sky. You haven’t been here that long and you were ready to literally sell us down the river a minute ago.”

“It will not stay open for much longer,” Lusya said.

She grabbed Leas by the collar of his shirt and, as gently as she could, flung him forward, drawing a surprised shout. He flew through the rift and slammed down to the bridge on his arms and knees, skidding forward another foot or so before he stopped. With a grunt and an unintelligible grumble, he started to stand, then paused and swayed, one hand on his stomach and the other over his mouth, like he was fighting not to vomit.

Seconds later, he lost that battle, falling back to his hands and knees to release his lunch onto the stone of the bridge in a series of loud, wet retches. The rift collapsed just as he finished, leaving Lusya and the others to watch him wipe his mouth on his sleeve and stand from a distance. He seemed to take a moment to collect himself before turning, then leaped almost a foot into the air when he saw how far he was.

“You crazy bitch!” he shouted. “What did you do that for?”

“I needed to test the rift,” she replied, loud enough for him to hear.

He glowered at her. “It’s awful. But it’ll do, I think.”

“Did you choose Leas because he was doubting you?” Milean asked as he and the others gathered around her.

She shook her head. “No, he just happened to be closest to the rift.”

“Because he got closer to argue with you,” Ariya said.

“That is a coincidence, child.”

The rest of the group directed strange smiles and frowns at Lusya. She had heard such expressions called “knowing looks,” but she had no idea what they thought they knew, so she chose to ignore them. She turned to Milean.

“I suggest you all return to your carriages,” she said. “I will create a larger rift that can fit them and repeat the process as many times as is needed. Assuming the horses handle the process well, it will not take long to finish.”

He nodded and turned to the others. “You all heard her. Let’s get this done.”

The others, the driver and Ariya included, looked toward Leas with palpable unease, their faces somehow both pale and tinged green. Buro broke the deadlock with a sigh.

“Ah, Lostorm’s beard,” he said, invoking a curse that was common in the northeast, itself coming from a god who was often worshiped in the region. “Better than walking who knows how long to another bridge.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ivon said. Her infant stirred with a quiet cry, and she patted its back and murmured something, causing it to settle down again. “But I’m willing to try it.”

They started returning to their wagons, though not without glancing back at Leas every few steps. Milean lingered. Lusya had to assume he wanted to say something to her.

Ariya started to follow the others, but Lusya placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her back. “Not you, child. You will remain with me.”

Ariya smiled and nodded. “Okay, Lusya.”

“What’s your plan for you two?” Milean asked.

“I will transport us last,” Lusya said. “The fundamental method will be the same, since I have summoned Lunera anyway. I do not foresee this requiring enough usage to exhaust me.”

Milean smiled. “I certainly hope not, we’ll be in real trouble if you run out of steam halfway through.”

With that, he patted her shoulder twice with just enough force to make a pair of dull slapping sounds—a gesture of which the purpose was a mystery—and joined the others in returning to his carriage. Once all of the passengers were back in their carriages and all the drivers back in their seats, it was time for her work to begin in earnest.

She faced the other side of the bridge again. Leas had moved aside to lean against the bridge’s stone railing, so he would not be in the way. With another slash of Lunera, she opened a rift large enough for the carriages then gestured to the drivers to move forward.

The first eased his carriage through the rift at a far slower pace than he would normally use. As he took his horses through, he stared at them with all the intensity of a warrior observing an opponent. He had them stop once he was on the other side and watched for another moment. Though Lusya was no expert on horses, they did not seem to be distressed.

It seemed the driver had come to the same conclusion, because he sighed in relief and urged them onward. He did not have the same adverse reaction as Leas. Perhaps that would vary from person to person, or maybe focusing on the horses had somehow helped.

That hypothesis was supported by the next driver who, having seen that the previous was fine, did not pay such close attention to his horses and ended up vomiting on them after traveling through the rift. The horses did not seem to notice or care about the chunky bile splattered on their backs.

While reactions from there varied, the plan went off without a hitch for the most part. Lusya had to reopen the rift a few times, but it still did not take much time or effort to get everyone through.

The only issue came when the rift closed while a carriage was partway through. The sudden collapse of connecting space severed what was in the middle of the rift with efficiency a master swordsman could only dream of. That ended up being just the horses reigns. Lusya had had to push the carriage through the next rift, but the horses had stayed put, so once that was done the reigns were replaced without issue.

That was an interesting potential application of Lunera’s portals, though she did not know if she would be able to do that on purpose.

Within the hour, the caravan had completed its crossing. Lusya and Ariya were the sole remaining members yet to do so.

“Stand beside me, child,” Lusya commanded.

Ariya looked up from the pebbles she had been making talk to each other and blinked, as though she needed a moment to process what she had been told. Then, she smiled.

“Yes, Lusya!” she shouted, as if Lusya were on the other side of the bridge.

She skipped, rather then walked, to Lusya’s side and held up her hand in the same manner as when they had first met.

“That is still unnecessary and may hinder me,” Lusya said.

It would throw off her form. Not enough to become a problem, in all likelihood, but there was no reason to accept the impediment for the sake of something that served no purpose Lusya could discern.

“Oh.” Ariya hung her head and kicked at the ground. “Sorry.”

“You are forgiven.”

Lusya struck at space again. This time, she set the rift so it would envelop her and Ariya when it formed and close immediately after, effectively using it as teleportation rather than a doorway.

When Lusya had had less experience with Lunera, she had used it to create tunnels of sorts that compressed distances. These days, she more often connected spaces in a more direct manner, making travel about as close to instantaneous as it could get, regardless of “actual” distance. Even so, for the briefest of moments, the “frame” of the door displayed an image of a twisted, distorted world, and far more of it than the travel time would have suggested possible. Trees stretched into infinity, the ground undulated like water, and somehow the sun and stars shone together in the sky. Then, they were on the other side and all was ordinary. Lusya did not understand what others found off-putting or nauseating about Lunera’s transportation. She was more bothered by the rotten smell of vomit thick in the air.

“Wow…” Ariya breathed, looking all around as if the world were still in that distorted state. She broke into a grin the likes of which Lusya had never seen and started jumping up and down. “That was cool! Again, again!”

“Lunera is not a toy,” Lusya replied. “I will not waste energy transporting you for your amusement.”

Ariya stopped jumping and her smile faded into a pout as she hung her head once more.

“However, I am sure you will have the opportunity to see it again,” Lusya said. “It is my Blade. I doubt I will not use it again for a year.”

Ariya’s smile returned as quick as they had moved across the gap and she leaped into the air one more time. “Really? You better mean it.”

“I do.” Lusya let go of Lunera and allowed it to disappear, dissolving into nothing in an inverse of the way it had appeared. “Now, let us return to our carriage.”

She just hoped none of the smell was coming from there.