Inheritance of vigour, p.1
Inheritance of Vigour, page 1
Inheritance of Vigour
Jacob Milkins
Copyright © 2024 by Jacob Milkins
All rights reserved.
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Books By Jacob Milkins
Bearer's Path Series
Maw of the Devourer
Inheritance of Vigour
Hunters in the Mist
For Jemima, Bethany, Kaine, and Charlotte;
I could not have asked for a wilder bunch of siblings.
PART ONE – FLIGHTLESS FEATHERS
PROLOGUE
A man weaved through the woods, stepping over the sleeping figures of his brethren. Faint moonlight pierced the canopy, painting the dark shadows in silver. A frost clung to the air and plumes of mist billowed into the night with each exhale. As he neared his destination, the man stepped on a stick with his bare feet and it cracked. The man didn’t wince as the stick cut into his feet and the boy seated at the base of a nearby tree didn’t stir at the noise. It was only when a droplet fell from the canopy and landed on the boy’s forehead that he opened his eyes.
“Prince,” the man said. He knelt beside the boy, but he still towered over the boy’s smaller frame. “The scouts brought word.”
“Do we near our destination?” the boy asked. His voice carried across the night and a thick billow of mist escaped into the unseasonably chill night.
“No. But we draw ever closer.”
“Hmm.” The boy shifted his back, nestling into a divot in the tree’s back. It could do nothing to fight off the chill, and he twitched his delicate features. As if to add to his annoyance, the boy’s stomach grumbled.
“The servants have prepared a meal for you,” the man said. He gestured to the shadows clinging between trees and a servant lurched into view. The woman carried the meat carefully and knelt beside the man. She held up the meat, and the boy took it with a look at the man. “Fresh from the hunt and prepared to your liking.”
“Thank you.” The boy lowered his head to the meat and bit into the tender meal. The act soothed his hunger, and he devoured his meal without pausing for a breath. As soon as he finished the meal, the boy’s head lolled back, and he closed his eyes. In a few seconds, his chest rose rhythmically.
The man climbed to his feet and dismissed the servant with a wave. She stepped carefully to not disturb Prince, not that he would waken soon. Once he was alone, the man moved a few metres away from the boy and stared out into the night. Mist curled at the edge of the trees, lit by the barest moonlight. It beckoned all and hid great danger.
CHAPTER ONE
Sunlight broke through the sparse canopy of leaves, illuminating the loosely wooded area in its golden hue. Soren crouched behind an old moss-covered trunk and watched his prey patiently. The morning sun stood high in the sky above him, warming his back with its gentle touch.
The crag boar sniffed at a tuft of grass. The large animal shifted its weight; it stood twice as tall as a regular boar. Most Aval wouldn’t bother to hunt a crag boar. The beast boasted rocky growths that covered its body and defended against any arrow. But a shot between the eyes would do it, and Soren just had to wait long enough until he got one.
Come now, turn towards me… Soren thought.
As if the boar heard his unspoken plea, it turned in his direction. The rush of a hunt’s climax soared in Soren’s heart. In a few seconds, he would have enough meat to feed everyone back at camp—and they sorely needed that right now. Without hesitation, Soren nocked his arrow and readied his bow.
The earth quaked. Soren clung to the trunk to keep his footing. Everything shook for a long moment before calm returned to the world.
“Rii!” The crag boar bolted to the west.
Soren gave chase, heedless of the aftershocks. They ran past trees and he kept his distance so the animal didn’t notice his pursuit. When the beast finally slowed, Soren halted and calmed his breathing. The boar had its back to him; he needed to circle around for a better shot. It would be risky, but the prize outweighed the risks.
Soren stepped stealthily and circled around to see the boar’s face. The beast stiffened, and he stifled a groan. As long as it stayed put, he could finish this. Soren took a deep breath and pulled his bowstring back.
“Rii!” The crag boar spotted something beyond Soren and its body tensed. Soren followed the beast’s look and spotted a man walking in their distance.
No! Soren thought. Not now!
Without a moment’s hesitation, Soren released his bowstring. His arrow hurtled through the air and it flew true. It planted itself in the crag boar’s right eye. The boar screeched and tried to run, but it tumbled over itself. It struggled until the least of its death throes escaped and its life drained away.
“Hah…” Soren shook his head and strode towards his prey. He glanced towards the man in the distance and sighed when he saw how the man approached him.
“Hello there!” The man ran up to Soren and stared at the crag boar with a bright smile. “Would you look at that? Oh, where are my manners? The name’s Veyor.”
Soren narrowed his eyes at Veyor; something was off. The bearded man looked rough. Travel had reduced his clothes to little more than rags, and grime covered his stocky body. Despite his condition, friendly grey eyes stared at Soren. They belied the intimidating scarring on the man’s neck. For all that, he lacked something important.
Veyor didn’t have a mark. He didn’t have the feathering of the Aval like Soren, nor the fur the Aggarans boasted.
Is he a Mountaineer? Soren thought. But he came from the west, not the east. Besides, Mountaineers never leave their passage through the Southern Mountains. Actually, he came from the southwest…
Had Veyor crossed the mountains? No, that was a fool’s errand.
Soren approached Veyor and stared down at the stocky man. Veyor wasn’t short, but like most Aval, Soren was quite tall. “The name’s Soren.”
“Judging by those beautiful feathers around the base of your neck and on your shoulders,” Veyor said in a cheery voice, “I assume you are Aval?”
“Of course.”
“Then I assume you camp nearby. Might I beg a seat at your fire tonight, Soren? It’s been hard travel for me in recent months, so I would love a chance to relax.”
Soren hesitated, but sighed when his aunt’s teachings echoed in his head. “Of course. Follow me.”
“Thank you, you are too kind.”
Soren moved to where the crag boar’s corpse waited and turned to Veyor. “But first, you are going to help me drag this back to camp.”
***
Soren stomped towards his people’s camp, the crag boar—and Veyor—in tow. Aval tents greeted him and his people milled through the camp. All Aval shared the same black feathering on their bodies, though the hue at the ends of the feathers differed; Soren boasted a charming blue. His people were all tall, even the few children who sprinted through the camp with abandon showed signs of growing to be tall, and they all shared the same bronze complexion he did.
It was a large camp, by Soren’s opinion; dozens of canvas tents stood across the grassy plains. A handful of large tent relied on wooden supports to prop them up. The campsite boasted all they needed; a creek, woods to hunt, and open space to relax. As Soren dragged the crag boar into the camp, his people finally noticed his approach.
“You’re getting better and better, Soren,” one man said.
An older woman clapped him on the shoulder. “The Midnight Wing will surely Choose you, just like she did Elrena!”
Soren forced himself not to preen at the praise and cleared his throat. “Thank you, but could I bother you with handling the boar? I have a guest to show around.”
“Of course!” The crowd hurriedly relieved Soren of his burden and dragged it off to one side to begin the grisly process of harvesting the kill.
“This way, Veyor.” Soren waved at the other man and strode deeper into the camp.
Veyor followed him without complaint, but Soren glanced at him from the corner of his eye. It was one thing to invite a stranger into their camp—his people encouraged the practice, even—but he couldn’t trust the man. Especially not given the current situation. Soren was young, only twenty-one summers, but he wasn’t a fool.
As Soren led Veyor through the camp, he spotted his aunt. Elrena was easy to pick out of a crowd; she was currently the only Chosen of the Midnight Wing among their people, having survived the arduous process over two decades ago. She folded her wings—the marks of being the Midnight Wing’s Chosen—and their blue-black feathers shone in the sunlight. Her feathering spread across her shoulders, back, arms, and legs. Little of Elrena sported bare flesh, and she wore an open-backed shirt for both her wings and to show off her feathers.
Apart from her Chosen marks, Elrena looked similar to everyone in Soren’s family. She shared the same black hair and blue eyes, as well as her blue hue to her feathers. She spotted their approach and her eyes lit up; it was a look Soren was most familiar with. She had something to say, be it for good or bad—and given their situation, it was probably the latter.
Soren waited for Elrena to dismiss the pair of hunters she had been speaking to before he approached her. Before he could get a word in, Elrena arched an eyebrow at him. “You hunted a crag boar.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a question, but Soren knew his aun
“He felt too ill this morning to get up, I’m afraid.” Again, she left it unsaid. “The sickness keeps spreading, but we can’t change that.”
“There has to be something—”
“Who’s this?” Elrena gestured behind Soren and narrowed her eyes.
“This is Veyor,” Soren said. He turned around, only to find Veyor gone. “Huh? Where’d he go?” A quick scan of the area showed Veyor stepping into a random tent. “Hey! Get back here!”
Soren rushed after Veyor, and Elrena followed him. He pulled the tent’s flap aside and found Veyor kneeling over a young girl. Sweat coated her face, and she writhed on the ground; a poor soul afflicted by the sickness haunting their camp. The girl’s mother stood to the side and stared at Veyor with wide eyes.
Elrena pushed Soren out of the way and stomped into the tent. “Get out, stranger!”
Soren reached for Veyor, but the man placed a hand on the girl’s brow. Veyor’s grey eyes bled to amber, and the girl stiffened under his touch. Soren grabbed Veyor’s arm. “Get away from her!”
As Soren pulled Veyor away, the girl sat up and yawned. She glanced around the tent and frowned until she saw her mother. Colour had returned to her complexion, and she crawled towards her mother. “I’m feeling better. Can I go play?”
The mother pulled her daughter into her arms and inspected her. When the girl wiggled free of her grip and smiled, the mother beamed. “Baby girl! You’re better!” She turned to Veyor and dazzled him with a teary smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“I see…” Elrena pushed past Soren and Veyor. She inspected the miraculously cured girl and nodded. “You two. With me.”
Elrena stomped out of the tent, and Soren followed his aunt. Veyor groaned as he stood up and trailed after them. Elrena led the way across the camp. Soren eyed his aunt’s twitching wings; they always moved that way when she was deep in thought. When they reached Elrena’s private tent, she ushered them inside.
“Sit.” Elrena stalked across the large tent and watched Soren and Veyor obey her command. Blankets and the hides of creatures Elrena hunted in her past filled the tent. The abode was a second home to Soren, and he wanted to relax, but his aunt stared at Veyor with a stoic expression. “You cured the girl.”
Veyor settled on a blanket and nodded. “I did.”
That’s it? Soren thought. He’s not going to say anymore?
Elrena stared at the strange man in silence, but Soren couldn’t contain himself. “There are others who are sick. Can you cure them, too?”
Elrena narrowed her eyes, but Soren ignored his aunt’s reaction. If it means Aren can run around and play again, I have to ask!
“I could,” Veyor said, “if you desire me to.” Veyor held Elrena’s stare and a pointed silence blossomed between the pair.
“What do you want?” Elrena asked with narrowed eyes.
“Oh no. You misjudge me, friends. I ask for nothing in return. I merely thought, given how you reacted to my previous healing, I ought to ask permission first.”
“I doubt that.”
“No, on, I cannot leave someone suffering like that to their fate!” Veyor shook his head vehemently, but his smile never left his face. “Not when I can help them. Especially not children. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“You speak the truth?” Elrena stared at Veyor like her eyes could bore down into his soul. “You won’t ask for anything in return?”
Veyor rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m not asking for anything because it is wrong to do so. And because I know I don’t need to.”
“Huh?” Soren shifted forward and his hand brushed against a crag boar’s hide resting on the ground beside him. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t look at me like that. It is well known how Aval honour their debts. You will do everything you can to help me, regardless of whether I ask.”
Elrena sighed and lowered her head into her hands. “I expected as much. What do you expect us to do, then?”
Veyor gestured grandiosely to the tent’s entrance. “It is simple. I need a guide across the Shared Lands.”
“That’s it?” Elrena blinked, and her wings twitched. “Done.” Soren shook his head, but he saw how their people’s situation weighed heavily on his aunt. He would have agreed to.
“Perfect! As for my guide…” Veyor turned his eerie smile on Soren. “That will be you, Soren.”
“Huh?”
***
“Storming thing!” The carriage hit another bump in the road and bounced Riti’s head into the window’s top.
“Language, Riti.” Agil didn’t bother to look over and check if her long-time friend was okay. Instead, the bespectacled woman stared at the book she had read for most of their journey.
“You don’t care if I curse!”
“Hmm.”
I can say whatever I want, Riti thought. Not that I’ll argue with you. It’s a losing battle all around. Riti glanced out the window and watched the streets of Solare. As the heart of the Lithyan Empire, Riti had never thought she would visit the city. But here she was, representing the Alliance of City-States. If only she could see more past her guards and the storming tall buildings blocking her view. Governor Clargio had sent her off with a smile, despite how she still suffered after Stormrider’s death. Not that he—or anyone back home—knows about that.
The Lithyan Empire demanded an explanation about why their goddess’ Storm attacked a border fort. It apparently aided the Dracalian army in wrecking the place. Somehow, they expected Riti to explain something she didn’t know to a foreign court—even if she had an inkling. They must all hate her, but storming Clargio had sent her sickly self without a care. Riti sighed and waved to the captain of her guard. Maeve caught her eye and signalled how they were still some distance from the palace.
At least I have some time, Riti thought. Time to spend agonising about the torture awaiting me…
With an exaggerated sigh, Riti pulled away from the window and glanced at Agil. Behind her friend’s spectacles, intelligent brown eyes darted across the page of her book. She cut her hair above her shoulders and it framed her golden face. Though she should know better than to distract Agil, a grin pulled Riti’s mouth.
“Agil…” Riti leant over and bumped shoulders with Agil. “Should we stop the carriage and buy some candles?”
“Riti.” Agil set her book down and turned a flat stare on Riti. “Stop that. No one else finds it funny. You are about to meet the imperial family; joking about stereotypes is hardly diplomatic.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why you are stating such an obvious fact when it has nothing to do with what I was saying.”
“Riti.”
“Everyone knows the empire produces the finest candles. Surely you cannot blame me for wanting to peruse their selection?”
“Yes, because you have become a connoisseur of candles since we last spoke an hour ago, and you made the same joke.” Agil held her flat stare and Riti rocked back dramatically, feigning pain at the observation. “I am telling you this for your own benefit. If you make a habit of that joke, you will slip up and tell it in front of the emperor.”
“Fine… I promise to stop trying to lighten the gloom of our journey with some humour.”
“I will remind you of this an hour from now, when you make the joke again.”
“Pah!” Riti rolled her eyes; Agil would keep her promise. Because it would come to it, if they didn’t escape the storming carriage by then. “Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think I’ve said that yet.” Agil frozen and narrowed her eyes. “Hey! I’m being genuine here! I wouldn’t have survived this journey without you.”
“I appreciate the gesture, but even if you argue otherwise, boredom can’t kill you. Besides, I am here to meet an acquaintance.”
“Who is it?” Riti leant back and glanced out the window as she spoke. She didn’t care—it wasn’t like she was jealous—but Agil’s explanation would fill the silence. Agil picked up her book and returned to her reading. “Hey! Answer me!”
