Chapter Text
K’rae shook off the tingling sensation of Aetherial Reconstitution as he landed in Mor Dhona. He took a moment to look around, confident now in the knowledge that the Braves would not be blatantly looking for him in the open now that General Aldyn was back in charge of the Immortal Flames.
The moment came and went quickly, as he still had a job to do here. He made his way up the hill from the plaza and heard his brother of the path long before he saw him. He followed the sound of Widargelt Baeke’s enthusiastic instructions and the sound of martial effort.
K’rae was pleasantly surprised when he came across the sight of two Miqo’te women eagerly trading blows with each other. Either he had stumbled across some of Widargelt’s latest apprentices, or he would need to break up a dispute. K’rae spied his brother not too far off. The man was dressed in garb that reminded K’rae of his father’s stories; more garb of the order, no doubt. His brother was currently instructing another group of hopefuls with little concern about the violence behind him.
Assuming that everything must have been fine, K’rae found a spot of wall that had caught a lot of the midday sun, and leaned up against it in view of the sparring match. He folded his arms lightly, and began to watch their progress for a while.
The woman on the left was fair-skinned and green-eyed, wearing her sandy blonde hair up in a high ponytail. She was dressed in white, and wore a hard leather choker around her neck.
Her opponent was dressed in the same outfit as her, sans choker, but in a deep brown. She wore her honey blonde hair in dreads, the colour of which matched her bright golden eyes, complemented by her dark skin and clan markings.
Their forms were solid. If Widargelt had trained them, they must have been amongst his first students. Easy on the eyes too… He shook his head at that notion - these women were here to learn, not to be ogled at. He went back to observing their technique…
The woman in white reeled back from a solid leg-sweep from her opponent and fell to her knees. As she rose, she caught sight of K’rae staring at them, and faltered mid-stand. Her opponent didn’t seem to clock this, and was already running at her to deliver a serious haymaker.
K’rae pushed himself off the wall in a burst of speed. He slipped into the space between the pair of them, slid his feet into position, and grabbed the woman’s fist before it struck the unsuspecting woman upside the head.
“Hey!” the golden-eyed girl snarled, pulling her fist out of his grip as the kneeling woman caught up with what just happened. “What’s the big idea?”
“Your form is good,” K’rae said brightly, “but you both have to watch your opponent when sparring. Neither of you are paying attention–”
“Oh, yeah?” This plea to safety seemed to rub the woman the wrong way. She folded her arms and looked him up and down as her ears pinned back. “And just who are you supposed to be?”
The woman in white had gotten to her feet by this point, and now laid a gentle hand on her opponent’s arm.
“Zentsa, please. He was only trying to help,”
The golden-eyed girl - Zentsa - relented somewhat, stepping out of K’rae’s personal space and shaking out the energy in her hands..
The woman in white turned to K’rae, smiling kindly, and said, “Thank you for your intervention, sir. I will keep my focus in the future. Your speed was remarkable, I must say,” she added with a soft laugh.
“I’m just glad nobody got seriously hurt,” K’rae nodded.
“We must resume training, but you may remain and observe, if you wish?” she offered.
“Of course. Don’t let me stop you,” K’rae smiled.
The woman in white seemed surprised and pleased by that response. She then bowed politely and took her leave of him. The women moved off to start sparring again and as K’rae watched, K’rae felt as if the sun was getting blotted out.
“K’rae,” Widargelt called, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Brother. You have come. You have distracted my students. However, you have averted unnecessary harm. What brings you here?”
“There he is,” K’rae grinned, patting the man on the log that was his arm and turning to face him. “The new mentor of the Fist of Rhalgr, eh? Erik told me what you were up to, so I thought I’d swing by.”
“I am glad for your visit, brother,” Widargelt nodded, offering him a small smile. “Indeed, I have begun teaching. I desire to preserve our way. Though I myself still have much to learn,” the monk explained.
K’rae looked at the small handful of students with a warm smile, and said, “My dad would have been proud of the work you’ve done here.”
Widargelt offered a good-natured scoff, the closest thing K’rae had ever seen to a laugh from the man, and said, “Lofty praise indeed. Master M’stuhl Tia was a wise teacher. I regret that I never truly met the man K’stuhl Nunh became. You remind me of him. That gladdens me. It means there is hope for the future of our order.”
K’rae didn’t have a reply for that. The man did not deal in hollow platitudes, K’rae knew, and chose his words carefully. These words were as real to Widargelt as the very stone beneath his feet.
K’rae opened his mouth… and then shut it with a small smile and nodded. Finally, he mustered a soft, “Thank you, Widargelt.”
Sentimentality delivered, Widargelt nodded and turned back to matters of import. “I have but few pupils now. But slowly their numbers will grow.”
“They will come, brother,” K’rae nodded, letting out a soft breath. “When they do, I know they will have the best teacher. ”
“You will be the judge of my ability to teach. You have met two of my students. They show great promise. Perhaps you can assist in their training? D’zentsa, O’tchakha!”
K’rae looked surprised, and about to argue, but Widargelt had already turned and called them over. The Miqo’te pair approached, ‘D’zentsa’ giving K’rae a curious if wary look up and down as they did so. K’rae had the distinct impression that she thought he had ratted her in. He gave a polite smile in return.
“What is it, Master Widargelt?” D’zentsa asked curiously. “A new member?”
“He is not a new pupil, no. An old one. My first and foremost. He has long surpassed me,” Widargelt said simply.
To hear such high praise from his former mentor caused K’rae to stand a little straighter as the girls looked at him. D’zentsa seemed to be reconsidering him as she raised her hand in greeting. The other girl, O’tchakha, bowed again, noticeably deeper than before.
“K’rae is his name. Today you will train under his supervision.”
“Wha–?” K’rae began, but Widargelt would not be stopped.
“An excellent opportunity,” the mentor continued. “Go to the usual place and make ready.”
“Heh, I’ve always wanted to have a senior,” D’zentsa mused in a challenging tone, beginning to bounce on the balls of her feet. “See you in a bit, K’rae!” she added, before running for the plaza.
“Zentsa, wait!” O’tchakha called, before sighing and looking towards K’rae with an apologetic smile. “Please excuse Zentsa. She forgets herself sometimes, but she has a good heart.”
“She’s got spirit, I’ll give her that. Hopefully she’s not sore about what happened earlier,” K’rae added.
“I’m certain she will be fine,” O’tchaka nodded. “All the better for your presence. We shall be honoured for your watchful gaze, K’rae.”
She bowed again, and then took off at a run to catch up.
K’rae and Widargelt watched on as the two students crossed the plaza. D’zentsa had slowed just enough to let O’tchakha keep up. It was clear from watching them that they cared for each other.
“Those two have nobody else in the world. One day, they came and begged me to teach them. They are very dedicated. Very quickly do they learn. Every day is fulfilling,” Widargelt mused with a gentle warmth in his tone.
“Do they remind you of any other strays that you took in?” K’rae teased with a grin.
“No. Unlike you, they are never late for lessons,” Widargelt stated, and then scoffed at his own joke.
K’rae rolled his eyes, “Yeah, alright. Where are these training grounds?”
~
The new order had no dedicated training halls, so the pupils trained wherever they could on the shores of Silvertear Falls.
It wasn’t so very long ago that K’rae and Widargelt fought on these shores to claim supremacy over the Seventh Chakra. K’rae had succeeded, opening the seventh without killing his brother, and helped Widargelt to see the error of his ways.
K’rae found D’zentsa right where Widargelt had said she would be. She was performing drills against the stone outcroppings, seemingly lost in thought. She stopped as he approached, removing her Hora from her hands and tying them to her belt.
“Hey,” she grinned. “I’ve been waiting for you!”
“Hey,” K’rae replied, stepping up alongside her. “Look, I hope there’s no hard feelings about earlier.”
The girl shrugged. “You stung my pride a little, but it’s water under the bridge.”
She dusted off her hands and offered one for him to shake. K’rae was impressed by the grip strength she displayed as she tested and tried to squeeze… He smiled politely and simply shook her hand firmly. She looked disappointed that she couldn’t get a wince.
“You were just keeping Tchakha safe, so I can’t stay that mad at you,” she added in a teasing tone as she released.
“Implying you’re still mad?” K’rae smirked, lightly folding his arms.
“Well, let’s see - Master thinks very highly of you, so you’d better not disappoint me! Otherwise, I’ll just have to stay mad,” she grinned. “Now, where are your weapons?”
“Hey, hey, who’s giving the lesson here?” K’rae chuckled, rolling his shoulders and looking around for a suitable chunk of rock outcropping.
Zentsa, confused, followed him and sat on a nearby boulder as K’rae placed his hand against a suitable outcropping of stone in the nearby cliff-face..
“What drill was it you were doing?” K’rae asked curiously as he adjusted his footing.
“I was practicing Opo-opo form,” D’zentsa informed him. “But… uhm, seriously where are your weapons?”
“Opo-opo? Alright,” K’rae nodded, judging the distance.
During his time with Widargelt and Hamon, one thing became clear in both the Pugilistic and Monastic pursuits; Both had urged K’rae to think of the various stances as stages along a continuous flowing river. Both schools urged their students to start from neutral and from there they would flow through each stance to empower the next.
He focused, and began.
He began by swinging his leg around into a Dragon Kick, and then fell into the familiar rhythm. He drove his feet and fist into the stone, blow after blow as he led his body through the familiar steps. Blow after blow, the rock cracked and splintered under K’rae’s bare fists.
Finally, he lowered into the stance of the opo-opo, and then delivered a series of rapid strikes up the length of the stone face and pummeling a portion into so much slag and dust.
K’rae stepped back from the rock wall, only daring to breathe when he was at a good distance. He shook the pulverized dust off of his fists, and turned to see what D’zentsa had to say about that. The young woman had leapt from the boulder and now grabbed K’rae’s arm as he turned.
Her eyes were gleaming as she felt his arm through the protective clothing. Her ears were perked and the tip of her tail was twitching as she examined him.
“What are you–!?” K’rae began.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bite. Hey, flex for me, I wanna see something.”
Bewildered, K’rae obliged, eliciting a bright ‘Oooh’ and appreciative giggle from D’zentsa.
“Whoa, you really are strong… And there I was feeling good about myself.”
“I’ve, uh–” K’rae murmured, somewhat surprised by the sudden change in attitude. He wasn’t used to receiving such specific praise. “I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”
She took him by the hand and raised it to examine. “And not even a scratch on you…” she breathed, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles. Her ears flickered in furious concentration as she tried to work out the trick, tail swishing excitedly behind her. O’tchakha was right - she was up-front, but K’rae could see the passion in her. Finally, she looked up at him and grinned.
“You’re the real deal, huh? What’s your secret!? You’ve got to tell me your workout routine sometime.”
K’rae laughed modestly, ears pinning back. He could feel his tail twitching, and knew that he was unable to stop or hide that her praise was getting to him. Thanks for a job well done, and praise for saving the day were all well and good, but personal praise for his physique was rare, and especially from someone who knew his craft in particular.
D’zentsa turned her head as a glint of something in the rock caught her eye. She reached over with her free hand and ran her fingers across the surface of some pretty ores.
“Wow, I wonder what this is,” she mused, stroking the rock curiously, their shared hand forgotten for a moment.
“You know,” K’rae mused, joining her in exploring the facets of the minerals, “my dad used to tell me about a temple on the borders of Gridania and Ala Mhigo that was built by a monk striking the rock of a mountain, and hollowing it out.”
“You don’t say?” D’zentsa mused, turning her head to look at him curiously. “The strength and dedication that would have gone into something like that is… well, I hope to see it some day.”
“Me too,” K’rae agreed with a quiet nod.
The pair shared a moment of reflective silence, until D’zentsa squeezed K’rae’s hand. She yelped, releasing her grip. She then hurriedly cleared her throat and folded her arms, walking a little way from him, tail puffed and ears out to the side.
“So,” she asked, turning back to face him, “you're going to demonstrate for Tchakha next?”
“That’s the plan,” K’rae nodded, dusting himself down and trying not to think about what just happened there.
“Heh, she's going to be so impressed!” D’zentsa assured him, grinning.
“You think so?” K’rae chuckled, trying to get a hold of his own tail and not look her in the face.
“Well, yeah! We've been together all our lives, in case you're wondering. We can read each other's thoughts as though they were our own! Come on, I'll take you to her! She should be over to the south!”
K’rae watched her dash off with a faint smile. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous of that. He and K’letyai had been like that once. Perhaps if the Calamity hadn’t separated them, they would have been as close as D’zentsa and O’tchakha…
D’zentsa stopped and turned back to see if K’rae was following. “Come on! Let’s hurry and show Tchakha your skills!”
“I’m coming,” K’rae chuckled, moving to catch up, leaving the glimmering minerals behind.
~
When he arrived, he found D’zentsa already deep in conversation with O’tchakha, holding her hands and shaking them for emphasis.
O’tchakha laughed warmly, nodding and turning her head towards K’rae. “Ah! I have eagerly awaited your coming, Master K’rae.”
“Master?” K’rae asked in confusion.
“Yes! Zentsa tells me that I’m in for a treat – that I mustn’t so much as bat an eyelid,” she grinned.
K’rae shot D’zentsa a look, and she gave an embarrassed shrug as O’tchakha pulled out a shard of crystal. She held it out to K’rae, and said, “We have been training with Lightning Sprites - they’re abundant, and somewhat of a nuisance. Are you ready?”
“Alright, let me call em out,” K’rae nodded, taking the offered shard.
He moved a few feet away and shattered the crystal on the ground. As if in response to a dinner bell, two lightning sprites bobbed towards the spot where the crystal had landed.
After a brief but charged exchange, K’rae was smoothing the fur on his tail back down and cursing about static cling. Some polite applause reminded K’rae that he had an audience. O’tchakha was beaming in delight.
“You’re every bit as amazing as Zentsa claimed you would be!” she said, approaching K’rae and producing a sheet of fabric from her belt pouch.
“I’ll say - that’s even better than what you showed me,” D’zentsa mused, looking slightly disappointed.
“Sorry - next time I’ll find a live target,” K’rae promised.
O’chakha approached, gesturing silently to K’rae’s tail, which was still in his hands. K’rae nodded, slightly baffled, and she demonstrated the cloth’s use by wrapping the tip of his tail in it, and pulling it through - it stung slightly but helped pull the static from his fur. She then relinquished it to him for him to continue using.
“Even though master said so himself, I didn’t quite believe that anyone could be stronger than him,” she said softly, smiling as K’rae took steps to ground himself.
“Widargelt is no slouch,” K’rae assured her. “He is one of the strongest fighters I know… You will go far under his tutelage.”
“Perhaps,” she said with a soft smile, taking his hand with both of hers as she took the cloth. “I am rather curious what else we can learn from you, however. I do hope you stay long enough to show us?”
She turned, brushing her tail against him as she returned to D’zentsa’s side. The phrasing and the act sent K’rae into a temporary spiral about whether or not that was a pass at him.
“See? You impressed the britches off of her, just like I said you would,” D’zentsa grinned.
O’tchakha couldn’t seem to control her excitement - she grabbed D’zentsa’s hands and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh, Zentsa! I have never been so excited! I wish to learn everything Master K’rae knows! Everything!”
“Me too, Tchakha!” D’zentsa agreed, bouncing along with shared glee. “With his help, we’re bound to become stronger than we’d ever dared hope!”
K’rae smiled as he watched the pair share this moment together. Things had quietened down in Ishgard for now… Maybe he could afford to spend some time away from the cold. Widargelt was right - this was fulfilling.
“Alright, I’ll teach what I can,” K’rae assured the pair.
“Oh, thank you, K’rae! You don’t know how much that means,” D’zentsa grinned.
O’tchakha turned to him and explained, “Growing up, Zentsa and I suffered much because we were weak, and couldn’t protect ourselves… So we swore to one another that we could become strong. If we could be as strong as you, there would be naught we would fear!”
K’rae smiled softly at the admission. Those were much nobler intentions than he’d had when he was younger. When he was younger, the only reason to get strong was to beat his dad and take over the tribe… The lessons of strength being used to protect others didn’t arrive until much later…
“There’s still plenty that I’m afraid of,” K’rae warned them in a solemn tone… He allowed the sentiment to linger long enough for the girls to look concerned, and then grinned as he went on, “Like what my brother will say if he finds we’ve just been talking rather than training.”
That landed - the pair laughed and nodded. “Yes, of course, Master,” O’tchakha agreed.
“Alright, then,” D’zentsa nodded. “So! I’ve been wondering about the applications of the one-ilm punch –”
All three Miqo’te stopped, ears twitching as a sharp yell, a demand from Widargelt, cut through the air.
“Who are you!? What do you want!?”
“Come,” K’rae hissed to the pair, before sprinting off towards the sound of distant combat.
~
K’rae found his brother collapsed and winded near the spot where he and K’rae had last fought. K’rae slid to his knees and placed a hand on his shoulder. He allowed his Chakra to open, and the energy of life to flow, slowly. He was no healer, but Widargelt had shown K’rae ways to enhance the natural healing of others.
“I’m with you, brother,” K’rae assured him, as the girls caught up.
“You… you have not come to harm?” Widargelt panted.
“We’re fine, Master– It’s you we’re worried about!” D’zentsa assured him, kneeling. “What happened!?”
“Strangers came… They attacked without warning. The techniques they used were the same as ours,” he said, with a pointed look towards K’rae.
“You mean to say they were monks!?” O’tchakha gasped. “But I thought there were no others besides ourselves…”
“I know of only one other that survived the massacre at the temple.. There should be no– Ugh…” he winced. K’rae felt a stirring of energies under his hand, and released Widargelt. “This sensation…”
“Brother, speak to me,” K’rae urged, helping the man up as he tried to push to his feet.
“A new power swells within me. As though a new chakra has opened. Yet it is unlike aught I have felt before…”
“Tchakha,” D’zentsa said, turning to address her. “This area was the sight of some famous battle, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was– The Battle of Silvertear Skies… Which means that one’s chakra can be opened here. Judging by Master’s condition, however, I’m inclined to think that something else was the cause.”
That, K’rae mused, and the fact that we’re all still standing here. The earful that Erik had given the both of them after their last fight here, about how Silvertear was a great knot in the weave of the lifestream and that any tampering with it could unravel the world, rang in his mind.
“Let us return to Revenant’s Toll,” Widargelt said simply. “I must rest.”
K’rae and the others rushed back to the settlement and, at K’rae’s insistence, Widargelt agreed to rest within the Rising Stones.
Some time later, the four of them were seated close to a roaring fire. K’rae jabbed at some of the kindling to stoke the flame. D’zentsa was pouring everyone a steaming cup of tea while O’tchakha tended to their master’s wounds.
“How’re you feeling?” K’rae asked, as he set the poker aside.
“I am feeling better,” Widargelt assured them all. “The pain has subsided.”
“Alright, tell us what happened,” D’zentsa urged as she handed their master his tea.
“They came shortly after you left. Masked men who fight as we do. They were monks. Of this I am certain.”
K’rae folded his arms in thought. “So, either someone survived the massacre, or someone that did has been teaching them.”
“I think the latter. They outnumbered me. I held them off. But a sudden pain racked my body. As though I was pierced through. I fell to my knees. When next I was aware, my assailants were gone. Most likely fled when they heard your coming.”
“Sorry we didn’t arrive sooner,” K’rae murmured.
Widargelt flexed his hands around the mug, and nodded. “The sensation I felt. It is not unlike a chakra opening. But neither is it the seventh chakra.”
D’zentsa and O’tchakha shared glances across the small table.
“If it isn't the seventh chakra, then what could it possibly be?” D’zentsa asked, voicing the unspoken question.
“I know not,” Widargelt admitted. “I must ask someone more learned than me. Professor Erik. He is versed in the history of our order. Perhaps he can find more information.”
“You will do nothing of the sort,” K’rae assured him. “As much as I’d rather stick my hand in a hornet’s nest, you’re in no shape to travel.”
“That is unnecessary. I would ask you to oversee the rest of today’s training, until I am recovered.”
“Okay. If you’re certain… If it means I don’t have to hear Erik insulting my intelligence in the same breath as he’s giving me the information, that is definitely more agreeable,” K’rae grinned.
Widargelt nodded, gratefully. To the apprentices, he said “D'zentsa, O’tchakha. Leave us, for but a moment.”
“Of course, Master Widargelt. We’ll meet you outside, Master K’rae,” O’tchakha nodded, bowing her head towards Widargelt and then K’rae.
“Don’t take too long,” D’zentsa teased, waving as she moved to follow after.
When they were alone, Widargelt turned to face K’rae.
“This may be a new source of power. If so, I would share its secrets with you. If I learn something, I will let you know.”
K’rae nodded and clapped his brother on the arm. It was like patting a boulder. “I know you and Erik can figure something out. In the meantime, I’ll watch the students until you return.”
“I know they will be in safe hands,” Widargelt nodded, offering K’rae a small smile. “I now leave for Ul’dah. I will return in a few days.”
The man then stood, drained his steaming cup and set it down on the table, before marching out towards the Atheryte plaza.
K’rae watched this in amazement, and pondered his own cup. He let out a long, slow breath, focusing his body - mind over matter… He took a sip and quickly set it back down, with a hiss of, “Nope, still too hot…” as he reached for a nearby pitcher of cold water.