One step at a time. One foot, then the other. Forward, and up, Roland began the hike up the mountain, Tsubasa right behind him. The soil was dense and somewhat springy, interspersed with smooth black rocks, forming a rather pleasant start to the path. It would only get harder with each step, Roland knew that. But he was glad for an easy beginning, with a gentle slope, and a wide enough path that there was no real danger of falling over the edge.
“Off to a good start!” Tsubasa said, hiking along cheerfully, matching Roland’s pace.
She could go much faster than me. But I need to pace myself. Know your limits, Roland. Don’t use up all the strength you have before you reach the Canon.
“If it was too difficult right from the off, it wouldn’t be a proper test,” Roland said. He was already finding breathing a little bit of a challenge. The air was so much drier already, even though they’d only left the city a few minutes ago.
“Makes sense,” Tsubasa said. “There sure are a lot of different ways up this mountain, though. How do you know where the path is?”
“Markers,” Roland said, pointing ahead. There, jutting up from the path, was a stone plaque emblazoned with Jurall’s crest.
“What’s stopping anyone from just scaling the side of the mountain, though?” Tsubasa asked, looking longingly up the steep slope to their right.
“For people like me, physical ability,” Roland said with a chuckle. “For everyone else, I’m not entirely sure. I have heard conflicting tales, from Jurall blasting any would-be trail-skippers with gouts of magma, to the guardsmen hiding in secret and attacking any Summoners who intentionally forsake the path, to symphonic loops being set in place to force climbers back on the trail.”
“Symphonic loops are only theoretical though, aren’t they?” Tsubasa asked. “And even calling them ‘theoretical’ is a stretch.”
“Well, you know how stories spread,” Roland said. “People will come up with all sorts of explanations for the unknown.”
“Sure will!” Tsubasa said. “It would be cool if they were real, though. Tons of neat applications.”
“Mm,” Roland said in wordless agreement. Despite the heat, and the dryness, and the ominous rumbling high above, and the exertion, and the knowledge that things would only get much more challenging from here… he was enjoying himself. If he’d been forced to take the climb alone, this joy would evaporate. Tsubasa was a welcome companion.
They rounded the mountain’s base at a steady pace, the path’s width, slope, and structure unchanged halfway around the mountain. By the time they reached Mount Fuarain’s opposite side, despite the gentle slope, they’d already risen an impressive amount, so that the people in the city below were like tiny figurines, their details almost impossible to make out with much certainty.
It was here, halfway around the mountain, that things changed slightly. Steep steps climbed up to the path’s continuation — seventeen steps in all, but the climb was so steep Roland almost had to use his hands ahead of him for support. At the top of the stairs, he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing on. Another hundred yards or so along the path, they faced another steep seventeen steps, and Roland took another breather at the top of those.
And then the path was no longer steady, smooth, or even. It was more rock than soil now, with constant rises and dips, none more than six or seven centimeters, but that was enough to make the going a bit slower, Roland minding his footing more carefully. There were no handholds, no rails or safety lines, nothing to prevent any climbers from an unceremonious plunge off the left side — and now that they’d come so far, such a drop was profoundly unappealing. Twice they came across larger sudden rises, a little over half Roland’s height, that required an actual climb. The stone was hot against Roland’s hands, but not scalding, as he clambered up each one. Tsubasa kept an easy pace behind him, and Roland could feel that she was ready to offer him a boost if asked, but was grateful that she didn’t offer outright.
Don’t worry. I’ll gladly ask for your help if I need it. But I need to do as much as I can with my own strength, and the strength of the Fantasians.
“What’s that?” Tsubasa asked as they turned a corner. The path ahead of them seemed to be moving, the gravel and sand shifting back and forth, much of it spilling over the side to tumble down below.
“I’m not sure,” Roland murmured. He took a long drink of water, grateful for its hydrating power, before approaching the mysterious phenomenon. He stopped at the very edge of the sturdy, rocky part of the path, and knelt down, gazing out across the shifting sands of the path beyond.
“Are there volcano monsters slithering around in there?” Tsubasa asked in a hushed voice, kneeling beside him.
“I don’t think so,” Roland said, slowly, pondering the situation. He placed his hand against the very edge of the rock, closed his eyes, and sang Kirin’s song. With each note, he felt the connection between him and Kirin activate, blossoming like a morning glory under the first rays of sunrise. Through that connection, he asked Kirin to reach out with him, each note of the song resonating across the shifting sands, asking questions, seeking answers.
There were no living creatures beneath the sands. What was happening here was extremely loose, broken up earth being stirred up by the geothermal activity beneath it. If Roland or Tsubasa were to step into these sands, they’d sink up to their necks almost instantly, sear their feet and lower legs as they drew too close to the heat source beneath, and then go tumbling off the cliff, unable to find any footholds, handholds, or sturdy ground to stand fast.
And with that information, the solution to their problem became obvious. Roland smiled as Kirin danced within his heart, eager to work his nourishing magics.
It’s your time to shine, friend. Give us a path forward.
Kirin reached into the soil, dry and loose and disconnected, and took hold of each and every individual particle. From there, with Roland’s help, he sang into the dry, broken up ground, calling out to connections and bonds that had been broken and severed, withered and deprived, and brought life back into their cores. One by one, the soil, rather than being stirred up by the heat below, found nourishment and solidity in it. One by one, each grain of sand connected to its neighbor, moisture and strength restored in each new bond reforged.
When Kirin cheerfully told him the work was done, Roland let the final note of the song ring out as he opened his eyes.
Before them now stretched a smooth, sturdy path of hearty, fertile soil.
“Kirin’s power?” Tsubasa asked, breathless with wonder. Roland nodded. “That’s… incredible.” She stood up, beaming at Roland. “You and your partners have got this. All the way to the top.”
“We do,” Roland said, and felt her confidence as if it were his own. One success was all he needed to give him surety for the rest of the climb. Kirin, Vi, and Shureen wouldn’t let him down. And he in turn wouldn’t let them down, either.
They crossed the newly-formed path with ease, and at its distant end, the trail returned to a rough and tumble wilderness of rocks and crags, unsure footing and occasional short climbs. Roland refused to look up, to see how much more of the great mountain’s height they had left to climb. He knew there was a rest hut at the halfway point. That would serve as an excellent barometer of their progress. Other than that, he wanted to focus on what was right in front of him, rather than letting himself be flooded with anxiety for what was to come.
“Are you running low on water?” Tsubasa asked after a while. “I’m getting pretty low, even though I’ve been trying to ration it.” She shook her water bottle to demonstrate, and the pathetic sloshing of dangerously low water levels punctuated her claim.
“I’ve been trying to ration it, too, and I’m almost empty,” Roland said, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. His mouth and throat were painfully dry, but he knew just how tall and arduous a climb it was to the top, so he couldn’t just guzzle down all his water in one go. But if he ran out now…
“There are checkpoints, aren’t there?” Tsubasa asked. She looked out over the edge, at the city quite dizzyingly far below them now, and at the grand plains beyond. “Think we’re close to one?”
“There is only one at the halfway point, and one just before the top,” Roland said. For a moment, he considered looking up, gauging the distance, but knew that would be rather fruitless. The path didn’t slope upwards at a constant rate, and once it had already switch-backed on them, forcing them to spend twice the time to climb half as high as the pace they’d been making before then.
“Can Shureen make water for us to drink?” Tsubasa asked.
“No,” Roland said. “It’s… strange, isn’t it? She can create water, but the water she creates out of nothing isn’t water we can drink. If we find any sort of moisture up here, she and I might be able to create drinkable water from it, but that’s a long-shot.”
“I like the way you talk about it,” Tsubasa said, smiling at him. “ ‘She and I.’ It’s not all about you, but it’s not all about her, either. It’s a partnership, isn’t it?”
Roland nodded, smiling but saving his breath from words for now. Tsubasa’s companionship was a welcome boon, and the conversation was a nice reminder that he wasn’t making this climb alone. But his dangerously light water bottle was an important reminder of where his priorities should lie.
A moment longer, and then Roland started forward again. The mountain rumbled high overhead, and Roland chanced a glance skyward just to make sure there weren’t any flaming projectiles about to fall down upon them. And at that, he got his glimpse of the remaining height of the mountain, a reminder he didn’t want — and he wasn’t overly pleased with their progress.
Perhaps a quarter of the way up, after all this time? The halfway checkpoint can’t be close.
They clambered up a rocky wall, even Tsubasa’s breathing coming somewhat ragged now. Sharing a look, they both resigned themselves to the need for their last dregs of water, and drank all that remained, tilting their heads back and holding their water bottles against their mouths for a long time, waiting for every last drop to drip its way down.
Heaving a sigh, Roland closed his empty water bottle and gazed along the path. It was getting narrower, more uneven, wilder. The going was only going to get harder with every step — and now they were out of their most precious resource.
On they hiked, taking greater care now with using the mountain’s walls to their right to steady themselves — the rocks there were hot, dangerous to the touch. With no rail or rope to their left, they were forced to take it very carefully, minding their balance across the uneven stones.
After a while, they came to stairs, and while those provided surer footing, the steeper climb wore on both of them, Roland most of all. His legs burned with effort, his lungs even more so, and he paused several times to cough, his throat tight, the air dry and dusty. He had nothing to help him wash out his throat, but coughing, though it helped him breathe a little better, left his throat rawer and drier than before.
And still the climb went on, and on, and on. Roland’s steps became slower with every passing moment, and after stopping once to catch his breath, he tried not to again — it only highlighted how difficult it was getting to breathe, how dry everything was, how desperately he needed water. It was better to keep going, wasn’t it? Better to take another step and another, as fast as possible, then ever stop, at this point. Better to get to more water sooner than later.
Roland’s eyes suddenly snapped open — when had he closed them? A strong pressure was on his right arm, and when he looked, he saw Tsubasa clutching him tightly, staring at him in wide-eyed alarm.
And then Roland looked to his left, and his heart lurched. He’d very nearly walked straight over the edge, to a precipitous drop.
“Thanks,” he rasped, letting Tsubasa help him back onto the path.
“Just keep going,” Tsubasa said, her voice a rough whisper. She was in better shape than him in many ways, but she needed water just as desperately as he did.
Roland nodded and started back up the endless stairs, Tsubasa now often placing her hand on his back to steady him. He recalled so many elements of his training with his Teacher, of so many stairs climbed, of all sorts of hiking and climbing sessions meant to help Roland’s weak cardiovascular system and middling stamina improve as best they could.
In the end, I always had a much lower ceiling than anyone else. This is a condition I just have to live with. But it certainly doesn’t make this trial any easier.
What was it like, for the Summoners before me? Have any been able to power themselves up this mountain with ease?
But he looked back at Tsubasa and cast that thought swiftly from his mind.
I’m not sure I’ve met anyone in better physical condition than her. And she’s struggling, too — before we’ve even made it halfway.
Jurall… you meant this to be a challenge, no matter the challenger. And I can very comfortably say: you’ve succeeded.
Roland reached within himself, too, drawing on the encouragement and comfort of the three Fantasians whose Pacts he bore. Shureen, especially, was a strong voice in his heart. And when, out of desperation, he asked her the question he already knew the answer to, she confirmed: the only way she could help him get water is if they found adequate moisture to cleanse and draw from.
It's all right. I just… keep going. And then…
Roland gasped as he saw — the top of the stairs! The end of this part of the climb! He rushed up the last three steps, then stumbled. He was so light-headed all of a sudden, vertigo swept upon him, and…
He was on hands and knees, his face centimeters from the rugged ground beneath him. He was so tired… so thirsty… was this it? Was this as far as he could —
“Roland!” Tsubasa cried, tugging at his arm. “Roland, there’s water! Look!”
Roland lifted his head and saw ahead of them a pool of water, a natural spring bubbling up from somewhere within the volcano. And it was literally bubbling, great bubbles fizzing and popping along the surface, a thick cloud of steam wafting up from it.
“Don’t drink it,” Roland rasped, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “It’ll burn you.”
“That’s where Shureen comes in, right?” Tsubasa asked, and she actually flopped down to a seat beside him, struggling to catch her breath.
“Yes,” Roland whispered, shaky, uncertain. Could he do this? He’d need to…
To sing. But with his voice, how could he get a single note out? And without the call of Shureen’s song, her magic would remain dormant, ready but waiting.
Roland scooted a little closer, and then a little closer again. Here, still a good yard away from the spring, he could feel its heat on his face. There was moisture in the air from the steam… would that be enough? No — they needed the spring itself. And as he looked upon those waters, his heart twisted itself into knots.
Not only was the spring so bubbling hot that it would likely peel flesh from Roland’s hand if he touched it, but there was all sorts of dust and debris swirling in the boiling bowl. This was not drinkable water, not at all.
Shureen… can overcome that. If I can sing her song long and loud enough. If I can focus… just concentrate…
He opened his mouth, but only a rasp came out, and then he was coughing, and struggling to stop. He didn’t have the voice to sing! He didn’t have what he needed to —
He felt Tsubasa tugging at his bag. Roland looked down at it, then at her, at the look in her eyes as she tried to send him a message without words.
And Roland’s eyes lit up. He struggled with his bag, and in the end needed Tsubasa’s help to undo the clasp and lift the flap. He dug inside, and retrieved from its secure pouch…
His ocarina.
He needed a steady breath, but he didn’t need to form notes with his own voice, now. He just needed to be able to breathe, and so he breathed in the steam, let it soothe his throat — at least partially. There was only so much that could be done without clean water that wasn’t scalding, but this would have to do. He took in a deep breath, then tried again, testing his abilities.
He could do it. Raising his ocarina to his lips, he closed his eyes, reached to Shureen within him… and played her song.
Like rain on a meadow, like the tide coming in and out, like the gentle course of a stream, the melody flowed over the world with a watery texture, its gentleness belying an ocean of depth. Through each note, Roland and Shureen reached out together to touch the water. It was hot, too hot for physical touch, far too hot to drink. And within it were such impurities, a host of dust and debris that would choke off any benefits water would normally have to the drinker.
So Roland and Shureen set their efforts to the task. Working her influence, Shureen regulated the temperature, cooling the bubbling, boiling stew down, down, down to a soft temperature to combat the heat they would face throughout the climb. And into the waters Shureen reached, washing away the impurities, eliminating dust and debris, purifying the water into a sublime, miraculous oasis.
Roland gasped as he finally let the song end and opened his eyes. There before him was a blessedly cool, shimmeringly clear pool of pristine water.
Tsubasa approached the water’s edge first, having more strength remaining than Roland, but she took Roland’s water bottle with her. Filling it first, she handed it back to him, offering a weary smile. Roland took it and drank, in gentle sips that were rough down his throat at first after going so dry. But after a little while, the water started doing its work. It washed his throat and mouth clean, soothed and eliminated the coarse dryness, and spread throughout him, revitalizing body and mind.
They sat together by the water for some time, drinking slowly. They emptied their water bottles once, refilled them, and emptied them again. They splashed water on their faces, hands, and arms, scrubbing away the dirt and grime and sweat that had collected.
“The Fantasians’ power is truly amazing,” Tsubasa said, smiling at the water.
“That it is,” Roland said. He took a sip, and closed his eyes, reaching to Shureen within him and offering a silent thanks. He thought he felt her smile in reply.
“Well, ready when you are,” Tsubasa said, hopping to her feet. She held out a hand to Roland. Smiling, he took it and stood with her. Together, they continued the long climb.
It was rough going, the path now constantly rising and falling, with great dips and sudden climbs that made it difficult to get a sense of how much height they were actually gaining with each new challenge. They reached another strange stretch of loose, shifting sand and stone, which Roland formed into a strong, sturdy path with Kirin’s help. Round and round the great mountain they went, water steadily dwindling, strength steadily waning.
And then they rounded a corner, and as Tsubasa let out a cheer, Roland couldn’t help it — he cheered right along with her. There, up a zigzagging set of stairs, was the halfway point rest house — a simple, small hut, with Jurall’s fiery crest emblazoned over the door.
But as they started up the stairs, a hole opened up in the side of the mountain, and from it burst a plume of noxious fumes, straight across their path just a little ways ahead of them. Murky, purplish mist blocked the path between them and the rest house.
“Looks like a job…” Tsubasa started, looking excitedly at Roland.
“For Vi,” Roland said, nodding. He pulled out his ocarina, finding it a more reliable method of making music than his voice right now, and played Vi’s lively, cheerful song. With her aid, he sent out a powerful gust of wind to blast away the noxious cloud, clearing the path.
It did just that — for a moment. But when the wind had subsided, the gases resumed pouring out of the hole in the wall of the mountain.
“It’s constant,” Tsubasa said. She pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her nose and mouth. “Think this would work?”
“I doubt it’ll be enough,” Roland said. “But I have an idea.”
It’s not altogether unlike how I’ve overcome previous challenges with Kirin and Shureen. Here we go, Vi.
Calling upon her powers once more, Roland didn’t blast away the gas, but instead created a swirling wind that surrounded him and Tsubasa, a shield on all sides — a shield that wouldn’t simply blow away noxious gas, but serve as a filter, purifying the air around them.
“Let’s go,” Roland said. He started forward, Tsubasa right beside him. They walked right into the cloud of gas, and Vi’s filtering shield did its work perfectly, making safe the air around them even in the thickest part of the billowing gas. And as Roland breathed deeply — surprised that he could do so after all the climbing and exertion — he realized that Vi’s powers would be a potent boon throughout their entire climb.
Once they were past the gas, he dismissed the shield, but kept it in mind for the future.
It’s only going to get harder to breathe as we near the caldera. More dust and choking debris, probably more gas, likely ash and smoke here and there as well. Vi, I’ll be counting on your aid when things get worse.
He could feel her laughing in his heart, boastful and mischievous, as if to say, “What, you’re only just now realizing how great I am?”
And finally, Roland and Tsubasa reached their halfway checkpoint. Roland knocked three times on the door, and it was opened immediately by a stooped lupine man with thick grey fur under his armor, and scars up the left side of his snout that crisscrossed over his left eye, rendering it useless — but his right eye shone striking, icy blue. “Welcome, Summoner,” the man said in a grizzled voice, ushering Roland and Tsubasa inside. “You are free to rest here for ten minutes — no longer. There is as much water as you would like, and some rations to help you recover your strength.”
“Thank you,” Roland said, nodding his thanks to the checkpoint’s keeper. And not only was there food and water, but there were comfortable chairs to rest weary bones in, and the air in here was climate-controlled, blessedly cool and relaxing.
“Ten minutes isn’t all that long,” Tsubasa said, plopping down in a chair and taking a deep drink from her water bottle.
“I can’t be allowed enough time to recover all my strength, or it isn’t a proper test,” Roland said. The checkpoint’s keeper nodded approvingly.
“Fair enough,” Tsubasa said. She plucked a biscuit from the tray on the table in the center of the room, and her eyes lit up after one bite. “Oh, these are delicious! Cinnamon is the greatest flavor in the world!”
Roland quite enjoyed the biscuits, too, and there was also savory grilled fish that he made sure to eat, knowing its rich abundance of vitamins, minerals, and other valuable nutrients would be key to sustaining him on the second — and undoubtedly more difficult — part of the climb.
They ate, and drank, and rested for ten minutes. And then, giving their thanks and compliments to the checkpoint’s keeper (Tsubasa asked him and learned that he personally prepared the meals for those who undertook the climb), they headed back out into the arid, burning atmosphere of the mountain…
And resumed their climb.
After another instance of Roland calling on Kirin’s aid to solidify a stretch of path, Tsubasa asked if it was possible to just form their own set of stairs straight up the mountainside.
“On a different mountain, perhaps,” Roland said. “Though that would depend on the nature of the mountain itself. But here, in Jurall’s domain, we have to contend with his power. He would fight us all the more strongly if we tried to deviate from the path he’s laid before us — and trying to cheat would make a poor impression on someone I wish to form an agreement with and work together with in the future.”
“Fair enough,” Tsubasa said. “Guess it’s just one foot in front of the other, then, huh?”
One foot in front of the other — and often one hand in front of the other, as actual climbing became more frequent — they went, minding their footing, minding their water supply, taking breathers when necessary… and when possible. It was getting harder to find a nice path of stable rock on which to just stand for a moment and rest. The going was narrow, and rugged, and hot. In fact, the rocks starting getting too hot to hold onto for more than a brief moment, so when climbing with hands as well as feet, they made sure to move quickly, not resting their hands anywhere solid, which was sure to be too hot to handle. They talked very little, focusing instead on the climb, on keeping their footing, moving forward safely. The only sounds for much of the journey were their breaths of exertion, their footsteps on the rock and soil, and the oppressive, intimidating rumbling of the mountain.
It went on like this for hours unknown — Roland had a watch in his pocket, but he didn’t check it, knowing the time was irrelevant to the task. Whether Tsubasa had a watch or not, she didn’t check it, either. They had to complete the climb. Knowing how long it was taking them wouldn’t change that.
But midday was moving towards evening, that was undeniable. It was hard to really see the horizon properly, or to chart the path of the sun — there was dust and smoke in the air, not very thick, and more out from the mountain then right upon them, but it was enough to distort their view of the sky. It was getting darker, though. Roland was sure they could complete the climb by nightfall, but then there was still the Canon, and the climb back down. Roland was sure it would be easier going down than up — not unlike how much easier it was to leave Shureen’s Canon then to delve its depths — but how much easier would depend on Jurall. Roland wasn’t sure at all what the Lord of the First Quartet would require of him to return to the city below.
Roland and Tsubasa got into such a rhythm of climbing and forging onwards along the narrow, rugged path that, when it suddenly widened and evened out considerably, they both just stopped, staring.
“What do you think that’s about?” Tsubasa asked. The path was now wide enough to accommodate a pair of taxis in Ars Moran, and almost smooth enough to make vehicular travel feasible, though there were boulders and jutting spikes here and there that served as obstacles. Easy obstacles, with plenty of space between them, but Roland thought they were less meant to block their passage, as they were to block their line of sight.
“Something new,” Roland said. Tsubasa had her tonfas in hand before Roland finished speaking. “Anything could be hiding up ahead, waiting for us. Let’s be cautious.”
They moved carefully forward, and upon reaching the first boulder, rounded it at a safe distance, watching warily…
But there was nothing hiding in wait behind it. Same for a low rocky wall, and a series of jutting rocky spikes.
“Hold up,” Tsubasa said, just as they started towards the next boulder. “Something feels off. I think we’ve got company.”
But what kind of company? Roland had read about Mount Fuarain and the climb, though not as much as he would have liked. Even so, the problem with trying to study the climb was that it resisted being studied. The path was described differently by different Summoners who had attempted it, the trials and challenges completely unique to each of them. So whatever Roland was about to face, he couldn’t know until it leapt out at him.
Carefully, letting Tsubasa take the lead, her tonfas raised in protective readiness, they rounded the next boulder from a cautious distance. And when they rounded the other side…
Nothing.
For a moment.
“Down!” Tsubasa cried, moving back across Roland’s path as he ducked. There was a flash of red light, and a sudden powerful thwack! from Tsubasa’s tonfas, and an alien shriek, and then something plopped down in front of Roland.
Roland stared. It was twitching, but weakly, clearly dazed and wounded. And the it in question was an unknown creature, something like a glowing red beetle almost a meter in diameter, with thick, knotted legs and a pulsing glow throughout its entire body. A body which, at just a glance, Roland could tell was not made of ordinary material. There were black, solid portions here and there, but mostly the beetle, or whatever it was, was red, and thickly liquid, holding itself together by some magical force.
“It’s… made of magma,” Roland said, gaping. He stood up, looking around, and saw a second magma beetle charging at Tsubasa at frightening speed. When it leapt at her face, she stood tall, spinning into a whirling forearm strike that cracked the beetle’s carapace as it sent it flying off across the path to land unmoving on the stone. “Magical constructs — guardians, meant to defend the final stretch of the mountain.”
“So we fight from here?” Tsubasa asked.
“At least part of the way,” Roland said, looking back up the path. More of the strange beetles were emerging from their hiding places, some short and stout, others long and narrow, and at least two that were more like praying mantises, standing upright with scything claws made of magma.
Hopefully we don’t have to fight the entire rest of the way. We aren’t that close to the caldera, yet.
Well, I don’t have tonfas. I don’t have any weapons. So it’s up to you, friends. Shall we?
Reaching inwardly, Roland found Vi and Shureen more than willing to take the fight to these guardians. Kirin maintained a passive silence, but understanding passed between him and Roland — Kirin did not eagerly come to violence, even if the necessity arose.
Shureen, Vi — let’s show what we’ve learned.
Roland sang Vi’s song first, but a variation on her theme, a bit bolder, more determined. He directed her magics at a pair of long magma beetles by the edge of the path, and a powerful gust of wind blasted at them, hurling them over the edge.
Tsubasa leapt into the fight, her tonfas glowing and crackling with magical energy, a hum of resonance emitting softly from them as Tsubasa activated their embedded artes. She pulverized a pair of scythe-armed magma guardians, then leapt back as a short, stout beetle spat globules of glowing magma straight at her, which burned a hole in the rock where they landed.
Roland then took up a bolder, more determined variation of Shureen’s theme, priming her magic within him alongside Vi’s. When a beetle spat a glowing projectile at him, he raised a pillar of cerulean water to extinguish it, and then used a gust of Vi’s wind to hurl that beetle into a boulder with shell-cracking force. A long, narrow beetle leapt at Roland, and he blasted it away with a jet of Shureen’s water, drowning out its heat so that it lay inert, extinguished and smoking on the path ahead.
The battle was swift and decisive. Roland and Tsubasa each slew a few more magma guardians, and then the path was clear.
“Yep, you’ve definitely leveled up,” Tsubasa said, grinning at Roland. “You were a lot more confident and poised then when we first met and you hurled those Masks off the cliff.”
“I should hope I’ve improved since then,” Roland said, chuckling. “You’re the real star, though. Fighting them right up close, and not a single scorch on you.”
“Tonfas are the best weapons, after all,” Tsubasa said, twirling her tonfas. “Perfect defense and perfect offense in a compact, lightweight package. And every arte they have works to emphasize those qualities.” The musical notes engraved in her tonfas were still glowing.
“How long have you had those particular tonfas?” Roland asked as they started up the path, keeping a lookout for more magma guardians.
“Five years,” Tsubasa said, twirling them with pride. “My first real tonfas, not just training clubs, were a gift from my parents when I turned ten, and they realized they couldn’t stop me from pursuing martial arts if they wanted to — and for a while there, they definitely wanted to.” She laughed. “My second were a gift from my Teacher when I turned thirteen. And then, five years ago, when I turned sixteen, I made these myself, under my Teacher’s instruction, to prepare me for my training journey. If they last for the entire journey, then they’ll have proved themselves, and I’ll never need another pair again.”
“Training journey?” Roland asked. “You’ve been on a training journey for five years?”
“Oh! I, ah, um —” Tsubasa stared wide-eyed, frantic for a moment, and then her shoulders sagged, and she sighed. A self-deprecating chuckle passed her lips. “Yeah, that’s… what I’ve been up to. That’s what I was doing when I ran into you guys, tracking the Masks. I’m still on my training journey. It’s part of the Tsubamedo school’s path to mastery — after your first ten years, you embark on a training journey.”
“So you’ve been learning Tsubamedo since you were six?” Roland asked.
“That’s right! I got started young.” Tsubasa leapt atop a boulder, scanning the path ahead, which continued to be as wide as a road and fairly smooth. “Everyone in my family goes through a year of training when we’re kids, and we can always opt in for a second year — that’s what my oldest brother did. It creates a really strong foundation for self-defense as you get older and take on the family trade.”
“And that’s being detectives, correct?” Roland asked.
“Yup,” Tsubasa said. She hopped down from the boulder and they continued on. “Not strictly detectives, though — law enforcement in general. Most of my family, going back eight generations to the founding of Fuyuo’s first official police department, have ended up as detectives, some of the best in the world. But we’ve had beat cops, police chiefs, even a few lawyers and judges. The youngest of my brothers is a defense lawyer. I really shook things up by pursuing martial arts, with my academic focus being in archaeology and history instead of law and justice. But my family’s wonderful! They didn’t really understand why I wanted to live this life at first, and they encouraged me to follow the family trade, but when push came to shove, they realized this is where my passion and calling lies, so they agreed it’s exactly what I should be doing.”
“And now you’re on your training journey,” Roland said. “How long will that take? What does it consist of?”
“Oh, I’ll tell you the whole story when we’re not trying to save our breath,” Tsubasa said with a smile. “But let’s just say that the training journey doesn’t have a strict time limit. If things go well, I’ll complete it in the next five years. But it could only take me one more year, or it could take me fifty more years. It all depends.”
Roland almost pressed with more questions, but Tsubasa was right. As interested as he was, it was better to pursue the full story when they were off this mountain, and back with the others so that the entire group could hear it.
And just as they rounded another corner, they were beset upon by more magma guardians, and leapt into battle. Roland lifted a half dozen magma-belching beetles into the air on a pillar of wind, and they flailed about helplessly before he gusted them into another group of beetles, crashing them all into submission. One new magma guardian, a tortoise-looking creature that spewed noxious gas, he kept a careful distance from, gauging its range and abilities as he protected himself from the gas with Vi’s wind, and then finally sent a deluge of Shureen’s water down a hole in its shell, extinguishing the tortoise from the inside. It fell in a heap, smoke drifting up from its mouth.
They had just conquered this new wave of enemies, when a great roar issued from farther up the path, shaking the ground and nearly knocking Roland off his feet. He looked up, and his heart leapt into his throat. Rising from a pit in the earth was a massive magma cobra, glowing red along its body, its wide face glittering with pressure-born rubies and diamonds. It was dozens of meters long already and was still coiling out from inside the pit, more and more of its body coming out, its great head looming over Roland and Tsubasa. It flicked its forked tongue, coal-black eyes fixing hungrily on Roland.
“Okay!” Tsubasa said, almost as a general exclamation rather than having any substance, just her own shock spilling out of her in a random word. “He’s big. How do we wanna tackle him?”
“I’ll take him,” Roland said, stepping forward. His heart pounded in his chest, but he realized exactly what this was — a final test, a monster to push the Summoner to show his full strength. “As long as you cover me. I won’t be able to deal with anything else.”
“I got your back!” Tsubasa said. She went right into action, just as new magma guardians were coming out of their hiding places behind them.
All right. I said I’d take him. So…
How exactly am I going to do that?
The cobra eyed Roland for a moment, as if measuring him. And then…
It lunged.
Roland gasped, startled by the speed of the massive serpent. He stepped a little late, called upon Vi to help him, and it was all because of her gust of wind launching him aside that he wasn’t instantly crushed. A cushion of wind caught him and righted him so he could land safely, just in time for the serpent to turn on him and bare its fangs.
Roland took up a defensive stance, hands in front of him, and then stepped back, moving as if to deflect a punch. Using his martial arts moves helped him direct his thoughts, focus his efforts, and a jet of cerulean water shot right into the side of the serpent’s face. It hissed angrily, flailing away, and when it broke free from the water and rose up, its face was steaming, some of the glowing magma hardening into stiff rock.
Immediately, the serpent went on the attack. It spat out a stream of magma, and Roland blasted back against it with Shureen’s water. A wild cloud of steam erupted, until Roland could no longer see the serpent, and he instinctively jumped, Vi’s wind carrying him high just as the cobra lunged through the steam, its huge fangs sinking into hard rock like it was a soft cake, easily ripping apart the space where Roland had been standing.
From above, Roland struck out in a palm strike towards the earth, and a jet of water blasted onto the top of the serpent’s head. It hissed wildly, fought its way free, and then, head steaming and smoking, lunged up towards Roland, fangs bared. Roland dropped, Vi’s wind shooting him swiftly at the ground, and while he was falling punched twice, directing two jets of water to blast into the endless length of the serpent’s body. Steam erupted, smoke billowed, but the cobra seemed far less bothered by strikes to its body, and immediately pursued Roland.
Forget body blows, Roland. Go for its head!
He landed suddenly, awkwardly, rolling his ankle. Vi caught him, and he stood and then jumped desperately away from the diving serpent. It was a very near miss, and the shrapnel that exploded from the serpent’s impact bit into Roland. He landed in a roll, scrambling to his feet, arms and legs stinging from new cuts, a gash along his right hand dripping blood down his knuckles to his wrist.
The serpent was already on the move. Roland leapt again, Vi carrying him wide of the attack, and struck out with Shureen’s water, but it was a brand new challenge, commanding both of their powers at once, and the frantic nature of the fight made his concentration slip. The jet of water that struck the serpent’s face was small and almost insignificant, doing little to cool the searing magma that gave the monster life. It turned to Roland and spat a jet of magma, and Roland landed, staggered, and threw up a wall of water. A new great cloud of steam erupted, obscuring the battlefield.
He heard the voices of Vi and Shureen inside of him. They had more power to give, if he let them show their full quality. But it asked something of him in return.
For now… with what training I’ve had, and how far I still have to go…
This is the best way that I can bring their full power to bear, and slay this beast.
So rather than run or jump away, Roland stood his ground before the swirling steam. And more than that…
He closed his eyes.
I trust you.
He felt a small drop of water fall into a still, serene pool. Its ripples went out, flowing through his body, calming and steadying him.
Shureen was here, right here with him. He did not fight alone. And, in this final moment, he was just a conduit for the greater power that lived inside of him. Following Shureen’s instructions, he took a slow step back. The world around him vanished — sound, smell, heat, all of it was gone, all was the calm, rippling pool, the serene center within him, the power that spread throughout him, around him, beyond him.
He raised his hands, and then thrust them forward. Eyes still closed, he felt, for a moment, as if he was Shureen. He felt her arms thrust forward, felt her eyes fixed on the raging serpent, felt the power surge forth, a tidal torrent of unbelievable force.
There was a shuddering in the earth, faintly felt. And then he lowered his arms, and Shureen retreated back inside of him, leaving Roland in control.
Roland opened his eyes.
Before him lay the smoldering, extinguished ruin of the great magma serpent, its bared fangs mere centimeters from his foot. Around him were dozens of vanquished smaller magma guardians, the only thing moving among the husks a wide-eyed, awestruck Tsubasa.
Water still swirled around Roland, cooling him, soothing him, and as he held up his hand, he watched as his wounds closed, flesh knitting back together, spilt blood washing clean. Then the waters subsided, and the song in the air ended.
The fight was over.
“Wow,” Tsubasa breathed, gaping at him. “You… that was… wow.”
“Yeah,” Roland said, equally lost for words.
They stared at each other for a moment, frozen in this stunned state of victory. And then they both staggered, as the ground beneath them groaned and rumbled.
“What the heck?” Tsubasa asked, gaining her footing faster than Roland and rushing over to steady him. “You’d think that was the final fight, but I guess he’s got more in store for you.”
“I hope not,” Roland said. He still had the Canon to face. Could there really be a greater, more arduous trial on the mountain itself than the one they’d just overcome?
And then he turned around, and looked up, and gasped. Tsubasa matched his reaction as she looked with him.
The top of the mountain… was getting closer.
This was no prelude to a new monstrosity about to be unleashed, no. Jurall was raising them up the rest of the climb.
They had done it.
The rumbling stopped, the ground went still, and they stood before the final checkpoint hut, and a short flight of stairs leading up to the ridge of the caldera. Two tall, rocky pillars flanked the top of the stairs, proudly displaying Jurall’s fiery crest.
The climb was conquered. Now, as the Canon itself awaited Roland, he took a moment to close his eyes and reach to the Fantasians in his heart.
The true trial awaits us. It isn’t over yet. But for all that you’ve done for me, and all that’s yet to come, I just wanted to say…
Thank you.