I signed up for APUSH at my school. Who knew college courses in high school were so difficult?
Anyways, other than that, I have no excuse for posting so, so slowly...
It took two days, but her armor was eventually ready.
Lord Saladin invited her into the blacksmith's workshop, then told her the name of the set; Iron Remembrance. She was then given her boots. Silver strands of iron and plassteel were laid over a black body glove and given golden highlights.
"To keep your feet moving when the ground runs dark," Saladin told her as she strapped them on.
Next was the armor cuirass itself, with a hadronic- and sapphire wire-composite greatcoat, in the same color scheme. The shoulder pauldrons were somewhat large, with the golden centers wreathed in black, and there was the standard wolf-and-tree sigil on her chestplate.
"To keep you warm when the air turns frigid."
Then came her gauntlets. Fur protruded from just under the armor. Some sort of abstract art sat on top, cast in gold. "To keep you fighting when ammo runs out."
Next, one of the more crucial pieces of armor: Her bond. The wolf-and-tree sigil was emblazoned on that, as well. "To keep you connected when the comms turn black."
And, finally, her helmet. Clear field of view, elegant styling, unmistakably master-crafted. "And to let you see when the light runs low."
Ema nodded her thanks. Saladin smiled and turned.
"And, of course, your weapons. First, your hand cannon. Full metal jacket, tracer payload, and a tactical mag with an aggressive frame. Recoil and damage both dramatically increased. Secondly, a shotgun modeled after the one Lord Felwinter carries. Shot package- meaning a longer effective range- and a vorpal load, meaning the bigger the target, the more damage this will do. Call it what you will. And finally, your sword."
Saladin held a large item wrapped in cloth, placing it on the table that sat between the two. Ema looked at it, then up at Saladin, who simply nodded.
The cloth wrapping was then taken off to reveal a razor-sharp sword that shone in the dim firelight. Once again, the wolf-and-tree sigil sat at the base of the blade, just above the hilt, but it was lit by its own light. A brief inspection revealed why. Elemental capacitors strengthened and rebuilt the thin blade where it was chipped and gave a low luminescence to the weapon.
Ema flipped the blade over to find a small inscription carved into the base of the blade.
Rise above, so that you may lift those below.
"Lady Skorri personally requested that I put that on your sword," Saladin explained. "She told me, 'There will be a day when she will meet those that harmed her, and she will have to choose to sink to their level, or to rise above them.' I'd suppose that she hopes this sword will remind you to stay above them."
"Please… don't mention my past," Ema told him.
"You will have to face it one day. But you will not do it alone, Lady," Saladin assured her. "When we break the Warlords, we will do it together."
Ema nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"Now. Suit up."
Once again she nodded, placing the sword on her back and transmatting the shotgun away. The pistol magnetically attached to her hip. There was a confident weight that came with all this extra gear.
"And, as a final addition," Saladin ended, "Your Ghost gets a new shell. Added lights, reinforced armor, upgraded sensor package."
Pepperidge floated upwards from Saladin's hand. Her new shell was gold and silver, glinting in the light of the armory. Four miniature flashlights sat on the front.
"This fits really well," the Ghost commented.
"All Ghosts are the same when measured," Saladin responded. "You little Lights only differ in personality."
"A lesson in not judging a book by it's cover, then?" Ema added, smiling. Pepperidge twirled her shell happily.
The next day, Felwinter and Timur set out for the wastes of yet another Dead Zone, and Ema pushed back her plans of asking them for advice.
The day was instead spent in relaxation. There was little apparent Devil activity in the area, so she spent the day familiarizing herself with Felwinter Peak. This was, incidentally, the first time she ran into the wolves that sometimes climbed Felwinter Peak (and would continue to do so long after she was gone). At first, the howls concerned her as they approached, and her hand dropped to her pistol. Skorri placed a hand on hers to stop her.
"Hold it. They're not here to kill us." The older Lady knelt, both knees in the snow, and told Ema to do the same as the grey knights-errant rounded the corner.
"Close your eyes and put out your hand," she said. Ema did so, not without hesitation. She never heard Skorri stand and walk away.
A nose bumped into her gloved hand. She opened her eyes. A wolf stared her down.
Carefully, she began to scratch the chin of the wolf. They might've smiled- but not a wolf's smile, strange as it sounded. Something more akin to a… puppy?
"Pup," Ema murmured. "You will be called Pup."
Six other wolves surrounded her. She smiled and folded her legs criss-cross. "Lightning," she said to one that moved quicker than the rest, with lighter streaks in the hair on it's flanks.
"Flak," she told one with whiter specks of snow on its coat. Turning to one that stood on the top of a nearby rock, she told it, "And you- you will be called Crest."
Lady Skorri watched from a safe distance, next to Gheleon. "Your plan worked," she told him.
"No," Gheleon responded. "There was no plan. Only a request to the wolves."
"They're loyal to you?"
"No," he responded again. "They trust me to leave them alone. I trust them to leave me alone." He paused, as if considering his next words. Skorri knew it wasn't the words he was considering. He was considering how to say them.
Eventually, he spoke again. "The pack will trust Lady Ema," he said. "And thus, they have taken the first step towards loyalty."
"But they trust you."
"Not that kind of trust." Gheleon smiled tightly.
When the next day arrived, Lord Saladin lit the fires and helped Lady Jolder hang a colossal bronze gong, from which they announced the beginning of an Iron Banner.
Felwinter Peak was to be a training ground that day.
Twelve of the newest Lords were thrown to the fires of battle, as all the present Iron Lords watched. Ema was nervous. The other Lords looked like they knew what they were doing. She absolutely did not.
The starting klaxon sounded. Six boots hit the ground in unusion, then stopped as they reached the first site. The flames flared as the site was secured, and the team moved forwards, always keeping each other in their view, always with weapons raised.
Targets! On the midpoint. The Hunter next to Ema dropped to a knee and fired twice with a sniper rifle at the Hunters moving up the stairwell. One pitched forwards, but the other kept going, returning fire as they did so. Ema dashed to the stairwell and withdrew her shotgun. Keeping her head down as she moved upwards, she racked a slug and popped up like a jack-in-the-box to blast the unfortunate Hunter. Keeping her gun up, she moved to the hearth.
Shots whizzed around Ema's head and body as she cast her rift on the second site. One hit her shoulder. She ignored it and sent two rounds cracking away in response that provided an incentive to not run through the doorway that they came from. One Hunter tried their luck. Their dodge made their corpse leap farther than most.
Crackling lightning shook the ground as a Titan, Lord Ticth, threw himself through the doorway, shaking the mountain with the impact of a thundercrash. He might've gotten farther, too, had another Warlock not ended him with a flaming sword right where he stood.
Watching from the Iron Temple, Lord Saladin and Lady Efrideet cackled with delight as they watched Felwinter round the corner through sniper scopes. This was a long
Ema drew her own flaming sword in response, and Lord Felwinter might've smiled beneath his helm.
Ema kept the blade closer to her body as Felwinter struck down a charging Hunter with one hurled blade, then turned to her and leveled the sword. Without so much as a whisper, he charged. The loudest sound was his feet hitting the ground. The two blades crashed against each other as Felwinter started with a violently-fast downwards cut. It deflected off of Ema's raised blade but knocked it aside. Instinctively, she transferred the energy into a counter that manifested as a side cut that would've knocked away most blades.
Most, but not all. Felwinter blocked the cut by pointing his blade downwards, bracing the burning blade against his hand to provide as much blocking power as possible. No ground was given. Ema drew her blade away and was instantly hit with a downwards strike that not only killed her, but burnt her body to cinders.
Pepperidge resurrected her next to Timur and Radegast.
"Ah. So this is the one that was asking after me," Timur said. Ema nodded.
"He will answer your questions later. But for now, Lady Ema," Radegast told her, "We reforge ourselves in the Iron Banner."
A young opposing Warlock threw a Nova Bomb their direction, and Radegast cackled as two more allied Hunters were resurrected alongside them. He threw out his arms.
Just like that, all five of them were encased in a dome of Void Light. The Nova Bomb impacted ineffectually against it. Timur jumped out and fired twice, erasing that particular Lord.
Two Hunters came around the corner as the team spread out, followed by a Titan, and then Lord Felwinter once again.
Timur turned to Ema. "Patience. Breathing. Focus. Feel the storm, Lady Ema."
"What the hell are you doing?" Ema responded. "When did you even get back?"
"Hours ago," Radegast answered.
"There is no better time to teach, than when it can be learned by doing!" Timur shouted, firing twice and throwing his Light into a Rift around himself. "You do not control the Storm, Lady Ema, nor will it control you. You must balance it. Converse with it. Do not whisper, nor shout. Merely speak, and it will come to you!"
Ema shook her head in wonder as Felwinter leveled his blade at her once more, and she drew her own Dawnblade in response.
"Deepen your stance," Felwinter commanded. "You're an Iron Lord, not an iron ingot."
Ema spread her feet wider, as he told her.
"Good. You're stabler that way- harder to knock over." Felwinter sent a whistling side cut towards her, and she tried to block it. Her blade was knocked away.
"Wrong. Don't block every attack that comes your way. Dodging is easier." Felwinter withdrew his blade. "Try to hit me."
Ema stood her ground as Felwinter let his sword hang loose by his side. Tentatively, she tried to attack, employing first a thrust that whistled past as he turned to the side, then a side cut that he wavered backwards to avoid, then an overhead cut that he simply stepped to the left to avoid.
"Commit less to any attacks you make that cannot guarantee an end to the fight, Lady Ema," he chided. "An opening attack is to test an opponent's guard, not to kill. The second strike kills."
Felwinter continued the duel almost casually, raining blows that Ema tried to block or avoid. She did an admirable job. However, she was facing a master swordsman. Her guard and stamina shrunk away until it was all she could do to try and run. That went poorly- she tripped over a rock.
Felwinter walked towards her, sword in hand, and leveled it at her throat.
"If you're going to kill me," Ema gasped out, "At least tell me what I did wrong."
Felwinter shook his head. "You did a great many things wrong, Lady Ema, but only time and practice will fix them. Your technique will hone itself as you fight."
Ema's helmet nodded, and she closed her eyes. The next thing she heard was a sword cutting something.
She opened her eyes to see Skorri withdrawing her own sword from Felwinter's neck. "Also," she said, "Never taunt your opponent like he did. Finish the fight and move on."
Felwinter stepped out of a radiant column of Light and Skorri only barely managed to block his attack. Ema looked on, starstruck, as the two of the three best duelists in the Iron Lords fought.
Lady Jolder would be proud, she thought to herself. Skorri parried a blow and nearly bisected Felwinter, who wavered out of the way like a desert mirage and countered with a slight thrust that was knocked to the side. She didn't think that any of those blows were calculated consciously- more like they were falling back on unconscious subroutines that they had honed through days of practice.
Felwinter eventually misstepped, and his arm was cut off as punishment. In a fluid arc, his sword flashed and Skorri's head crashed to the ground. Ema, seizing the opportunity, blasted Felwinter's chest apart with her shotgun as Felwinter, realizing what was happening, attempted to throw his sword at Ema. It caught her in the upper arm, but didn't fatally wound her. The Iron Banner ended soon thereafter.
Skorri and Felwinter emerged from twin columns of Light. Both of them were exhausted mentally. Neither praised the other's ability. If anything, they expected more from their counterpart, such was their respect for the other's prowess.
The group slowly began to disperse.
"Lady Ema?" Lord Felwinter asked, as the last remnants of the crowd melted away. "A pleasure."
"Likewise," Ema responded, being exceptionally careful not to stammer. Felwinter watched her keenly as she began to seek out Timur.
She found him atop the mountain, in what appeared to be a small meditation area.
"Lady Ema?" he asked, sitting cross-legged.
"How'd you know?" Ema wondered aloud. Timur chuckled quietly.
"My Ghost's radar, naturally. Come, sit." He patted the ground next to him. "I hear you wish to learn the ways of the storm."
Ema nodded.
"Good," Timur responded. "Good. Remove your helmet."
She did so.
"Now, breathe in."
There was a small pause. The air smelled of ozone and potential. Atoms whispered, hummed with power and charge- the unique scent that came just after a rainstorm.
"Do you feel it?" Timur asked. "The potential? Hold that breath." Ten seconds passed in silence. "Now, exhale. Feel the charge of the atoms, the protons and electrons. The air humming with crackling energy, yes?"
Timur might've smiled. "Now… breathe out."
"You got this," Pepperidge whispered.
Nothing happened until there was a crack of thunder many miles away. Timur furrowed his brow. Ema cursed, head hung low.
"No, Lady Ema. Do you not see?" Timur pushed her chin up with one hand. "You have asked power of the Storm, and now it asks of you to see your covenant through."
"And?..."
"So, meet it. When someone asks to meet you, do you not accept?" Timur laughed. "To the Asiatic Storm Zone, Lady Ema! The Arc's own home! Do you not own a jumpship?"
She didn't. Timur paid this no mind.
Within a day, she was off to the island of Japan and the thunderclouds above. Before she did so, however, she met with Lady Skorri.
"Be honest with me," she asked as the two sat in Skorri's wood-paneled room. "Why'd you join the Iron Banner?"
Skorri raised an eyebrow. "The one a few hours ago," Ema clarified quickly.
"It's something we do to all newcomers." Skorri smirked. "We Lords don't discriminate by age group, or really anything- but that doesn't stop newcomers from thinking we're somehow better than them."
She shook her head, still smiling widely. "I can't even begin to explain how wrong that is. So, we started throwing older Lords in with newer Lords and not telling any of the newcomers that. You're lucky Perun never found you- she was dedicated to hunting you down."
"How many people were in the Iron Banner?"
"Twenty-four, give or take a few. We're not big on equality when it comes to combat- we're usually outnumbered."
"So you threw in six of the most competent Iron Lords?"
Skorri shrugged. "Did you see me die?"
Ema nodded.
"Did you kill Felwinter?"
Ema nodded again.
"So you have proof that we're both very mortal. We're not gods, Ema, but people forget that. When they do- we raise the Iron Banner." Skorri looked upwards. Ema's eyes followed, to see a small green banner hanging down from the ceiling. The sigil of the Iron Lords sat in the middle, surrounded by small stitchings. Battle honors.
"If you march under that banner- and you do- you're an Iron Lord." Skorri laid a hand on Ema's shoulder. "You're one of us. I hold all the same rights and carry all the same responsibilities as you."
She stood up, dusting off her hands. "Right. You'd best be off. Don't want to keep Timur waiting."
Ema stood and turned towards the door, resting one hand on the frame.
"Thank you," Ema told her.
"No problem," Skorri responded. "Now, get going, before Timur flies off without you."