"As your General, all of your mistakes reflect on my leadership. You would be wise to remember that."~ Ambessa, The Matriarch of War
Hope you enjoy the chapter. Leave a comment. Leave a review. Maybe drop a couple stones?
Anyway pics for the previous chapters have been added. Chapters 165 onward. Check it out if you wanna see how characters or surroundings look.
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The rest of their journey toward the Astral Grove was quite lackluster other than two encounters.
The children were wrapped up nice and tight in warm clothing in preparation for the weather that would only get colder as they went higher and higher.
The Astral Grove wasn't only at the southern side but it was in the upper slopes. The very start of them. This meant that they needed to climb. But climbing with children, an old adult and two beasts was easier said than done.
In this situation, Gregori had only one option.
Magic.
In normal cases..... this wouldn't be possible.
Targon and The Climb was protected through magic. That meant that any person intending to climb the mountain needed to do it the hard way. The only way. Climb.
But therein lie the escape. The magic was based on intention.
Gregori and his children did not intend to climb the mountain. They had a clear destination that was not the peak. And for this alone.... the magic had decided to give way for them. But if he had shown the smallest desire to climb to the peak?
The magic would send him all the way down.
The peak could only be reached by one's own power.
Gregori could feel the power radiating onto him. Its intensity increasing whenever he looked up toward the seemingly endless mountain peak. But he held himself back. And luckily for him... so did the rest of the children.
They were so fascinated by what they were seeing that the very idea of the peak did not interest them.
Yet.
And that worried Gregori. But he did not voice that opinion. If he did.... the children's mind would surely focus on the one place they would not be visiting. And that would mean a fall he wasn't sure he could stop without having to transform.
The flight upward was difficult considering the weight he was carrying. But instead of just flying upward... he decided to take a more conservative route.
Pulling.
The true meaning of his ability.
He just pulled them from one cliff to the other, taking ample break in between to make sure that he had enough in his reserves to complete the journey in one day.
It wasn't difficult to do the whole jump in one fell swoop but it would be severely taxing on himself and without sufficient knowledge of what was to come..... he chose to not do it. Because, just like the children..... even he hadn't climbed this far up.
His first interaction with Soraka was at ground level. She had come to him. Now it was his turn to go to her. And he and his children would make the journey without question.
Soraka's help was what helped save Annie and the others.
And he just had a general idea of where their destination was.
However that did not mean that he had to worry, Soraka would send a sign in case they were ever lost. What kind? That was not something he could guess. It would come when it came.
He did not want to pray for it.
The first thing that had garnered the group's attention were those who had failed The Climb, their bodies forever a part of the mountain.
The Patterns of The Dead.
Without a cliff face or a ledge to hand onto, climbers give up. Their exhaustion or wounds being so severe that no movement other than falling is possible. With no chance of being saved..... they all pass away in the cold, bitter winds.
But at this altitude..... their bodies did not decompose.
They stayed still. Almost as if preparing for the next step in their climb.
Others found themselves frozen into the wall itself. An outcome based on pure luck. A situation that guaranteed death.
Rain.
Once hit by even the tiniest bit of rain, they would be weighed down due to it instantly freezing. The ice would slowly accumulate over a climber halting their progress and eventually freezing them entirely into the mountainside.
The children understood death. Gregori had seen that firsthand when their home had been invaded in Demacia. But they did not understand the weight behind these deaths. Deaths for a purpose. Deaths that had a bigger meaning than just something as trivial as a political battle.
They did not understand why someone would do this.
Gregori understood why. They weren't burdened with purpose. They did not have a dream so vast that even if they dedicated their lives to achieve it..... it would be worth.
Because after all.... despite having seen the worst in the world.
They were still children.
Willa had been strangely silent the entire journey. She did not try to police her thoughts. Instead, she acted like a silent witness to their journey. He had noticed that from her. Only stepping in when the children needed to understand something rather than keep making her opinion known. She was there, like a silent support rather than a mouthy companion.
And Gregori appreciated that.
She was reliable and made the kids feel better.
Most of their rest times were spent with the children going to Willa and staying near her as she cared for them by giving them food, blankets and water.
The cold would have been a problem for them but Gregori had been prepared.
Plenty of warm Freljordian clothing and a really powerful fire magic user negated any and all sort of chill that might invade their bodies.
The second encounter were the Divine Carvings. Markings that were etched into the walls, the origin of whom no one knew. Their golden glow softly illuminated the rocky mountain. He did not know what they described and his children were left wondering. But that wonder kept them occupied for the next few hours.
Other than these two encounters, there was nothing else that could be said of this journey that stood out. There was a complete lack of flora or fauna in the area. In fact, the only creature that they spotted was so high up, there was only a shadow of it from up above the clouds.
A dragon.
The Targonian dragons were quiet different from the standard Demacian ones. They were Celestial Dragons. They glow and have stars shimmering in their bodies. These were the dragons the smaller and more normal looking dragons were afraid of.
But they never harmed climbers.
It was due to a tacit understanding between them and the Celestials.
By nightfall they had arrived at a large clearing. One that was magically protected by the cold.
The very moment they made it up there, a bunch of cloaked people made their way to them. They handed them fruits and water.
Gregori seemed suspicious of it first.
That was until one of them removed their cloak.
His eyes widened.
The person in front of him and most likely by extension those around them...... they weren't human.
They were Vastayan.
All of them.
Their features were goat-like. Their legs hooves and golden horns on their heads. Their skin was a shade of purple with darker markings running along them. Their ears were just goat ears.
The leading man then spoke, "We will lead you to her. He smiled. "Please come with us."
Those words were all Gregori needed.
Soraka had created a body that resembled these Vastaya. She had created it in their image in the first place and it made sense for her to be among them.
"Take us to her." Gregori said as he accepted their offer and began following them still maintaining his guard just incase something went wrong.
And a short distance later..... they arrived at the Astral Grove.
"You've grown." A soft ethereal voice rang.
Gregori smiled.