Chapter 427: Chapter 427- The Gravity Of Ceremony, The Pull Of Family
Navuill er Yecine had thought he understood what ’continental significance’ meant when he competed in the multi-regional tournament a half a year ago. He’d seen the crowds and felt the energy of cultivators and mortals alike gathered to witness young warriors prove themselves. But stepping off the transport and seeing the competition grounds transformed solely for Qatrand’s hero ceremony... this was something entirely different.
The same towers and pavilions he remembered were draped in the formal banners of dozens of major Guilds once again. Where merchant stalls had once offered trinkets, they now only handed out refreshments at or below cost - because this was not about making them money, even if they could rake it in. On top of prime seating, they were also being paid to be there.
Where camping areas hosted elaborate tent structures before was again the same... but more Guild Masters, Continental Army officers (with many more of their subordinates camped in blocks out across the plains), and representatives from families whose names carried significant weight across these regions and more.
The crowds of mortals moved with a different average spiritual energy than he remembered from the tournament. It was less an excitement to see something that happened every eighteen years and more like what he expected a mass religious event would feel like. People had come to witness the formal recognition of someone who would shape the continent’s future.
He knew this probably better than they did... because he knew what she was at heart. Not just that his cousin was female, but that she wouldn’t stop until made to stop. Reaching farther, protecting more, shaking hearts and getting feet to follow her of their own accord.
The young man adjusted the way his blade harness sat on the formal black and gold of his family colors, wondering if it was nearly grand enough. He’d been made to wear the finest outfit their tailors could craft when it was revealed that he was one of the few not barred from attending. Most of the Yecine were not welcome - though as a small slap in the face, all of the women and retainers not directly attached to a certain faction were told they could show themselves if possible.
"What are you planning, cousin? Is there still a way for me to help with it now?"
As he murmured to himself, a herald’s voice carried across the central grounds thanks to the sound projecting sigil work. They began announcing the arrival of delegations from the southern coastal cities. Navuill watched a procession of dignified cultivators in deep blue outfits file toward the central ceremonial area where things were bound to kick off within hours.
He’d arrived early, ahead of Lirades who held another official invitation that would get them both into the inner seating area for the ceremony. The elder had insisted on stopping to meet with other continental family representatives along the way - political niceties that Navuill had little patience for today. Especially when his Empath abilities could see the other side of their smiles.
But he had not rushed to sit, as part of him was grateful for the ’solitude’. It gave him time to process what he was seeing. Today wasn’t only recognition of Qat’s well earned achievements. This was the formal establishment of a new power center on the continent.
’Because whether it is in memory of her wife or in revenge for it, I believe this place will be a city greater than ours ever was. Perhaps not by next Descent, but well before she perishes.’
His cousin - his rival, his friend, his family - was about to become something beyond what any Yecine had achieved in generations. He couldn’t be prouder, even if he felt less guilt over what she had been put through by elders of his family. And he really didn’t fault her for the choices she made recently... despite the dreams and plans she’d once shared with him about fixing their family.
While the heavy blade wielding cultivator had only recently grown into caring for his own arranged wife, he wasn’t sure what he might have done if she had been the one transported away indefinitely due to some internal conflicts within their families. Nor was he happy that it was falling on his and Lirades’s shoes to inform Qatrand of that fact.
For no one had bothered sending a letter - that could be used as evidence - about the full scope of the faction’s plot against the Goltbreds. Not to the person who was already planning to leave the family.
"...As if it was no longer any of her business..."
It irked him even more that it was her father that suggested it. That petty, vengeful look on his face when he smirked and entrusted Navuill with everything he knew about the realmshard. As well as how he requested the younger man to watch Qat’s face very carefully.
To see how much of any of it was a surprise... because while he was not sure how she could have accomplished it, he was beginning to think that the witch had either taken it with her - in which case it made no sense why she had not immediately returned - or that some ally of hers had hidden and handed it off to someone without the Void Defense Society ever noticing.
Someone like his ’loyal to her emotions’ daughter.
Unlike that man, the people in the crowd whispered reverence for the same very cultivator of the day. A group of mortals even spoke of her achievements with quiet but excited chatter as they hurried on their way with arms full of food and sealed drinks. Hired workers meant to bring items to those already seated.
But how many of them who looked upon such a rising star knew about the family troubles that had driven her to this point? How many understood the cost of the achievements they celebrated? He’d read the reports himself and saw the toll of the failings as much as the successes.
In fact, he was sure that his relative barely stopped to savor those... just as sure as he felt she stewed in the shortcomings. Because her training style had always been the same way. It was part of why he didn’t envy her skill, because he was sure he could not have lived the same.
He thought of the tense family meetings this past month and the whispered conversations that stopped when he entered rooms. The conspiracy that had torn apart the Yecine leadership had rippled out through the entire estate. His cousin had emerged from all that stronger, yes. More determined, probably.
But also more distant from the family that had raised her. What he felt was her old driving force - the betterment of their dependence on tradition and strengthening their future - had been ripped aside... and he had not been able to talk to her once to even ask if she was doing okay.
’Though I’m pretty sure that the fact I had at least tried sending letters was why I have been invited at all.’
"Excuse me, but are you here for the ceremony?"
Navuill turned to find a woman in the white of the Void Defense Society approaching and stopping in place with a respectful distance. One that told him she knew his weapon’s reach well. Either from a glance and estimation or simply because she had sparred with a Yecine before.
"The outer viewing areas won’t open for another two hours, but there are refreshment stations available in the meantime. I recommend you take it easy while you wait."
"Thank you. But I have an invitation to the central area. I’m... waiting for an elder to arrive so we can travel in together."
The woman’s expression morphed to one of much greater interest. She had worked with the strikeforce for quite a while now as their political liaison. Because of this, she had been made well aware of the very few people allowed to attend with the same last name.
"You are his invited... family, then? You must be very proud. Commander Qatrand’s achievements have been remarkable to witness. Take your time and enjoy the proceedings."
As the woman moved on - and he felt the ’amusement’ out of her that he knew never signaled anything good out of anyone - Navuill continued his slow circuit of the grounds.
The ceremonial platform he could peer at in the center of the grounds was a work of art in itself - the polished stone of the dais had been inlaid with precious metals to raise the grandeur even further. It was also surrounded by tiered seating that could accommodate hundreds of the most important dignitaries. The place where he would be sitting soon enough... and someone would not.
The thought brought a pang of sadness for Qatrand’s sake, feeling that she should have her wife here for this moment. It felt wrong that Elua er Goltbred wouldn’t witness the culmination of everything her partner worked to achieve. Especially knowing how much the swordswoman respected and talked about the heiress as part of why she was so capable.
"Navuill?"
He turned to see a cultivator he recognized from Guild functions. An Ironclad Order member he was certain had ties to his family somehow, though he wasn’t sure where. Another one of the strikeforce members who had come for the festivities... or possibly to remain a hanger-on after their leader ’made it big’.
"I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought the Yecine were... well, having some internal matters to resolve."
"I didn’t come here for their family matters. I came because I was invited."
Even as he said it, he wondered if that was true. Soon, he’d see Qat again for the first time since before the war began. He found himself both eager for and dreading that moment.
Eager to see how she’d grown in person - and how she’d changed in spirit. Because he knew that his own experiences fighting had altered his perspectives. Quite a bit, he was dreading the possibility that she might look at him and see only another part of the family that had failed her.
And if she was perfectly okay? Well, he wasn’t actually sure how to deal with that either. Because seeing mortals die in front of him in a breach had left him very much not okay. Talking it through with his wife, even if she didn’t ’get’ it... helped some. But he had no desire to speak to the rest of his family about his nightmares.
’Not the same people who trained so much *pride* into me that I can’t even speak about it to other soldiers or cultivators.’
Deciding he had enough waiting and alone time, Navuill er Yecine began to head towards the central area. Though he wondered if he was going to witness a genesis like everyone seemed to think - or attending the funeral of something that should have died for a long time, as Lirades suggested.