Chương 61: Knocking on the Tempest Gate

The show started with a low-pitched dirge, mournful and understated. The band was back together, and they played for an audience of one. Garuda Akula continued to hover above the chasm between two cliffs. She had the best seat in the house, not daring to come any closer but also unwilling to turn around and fly away. She seemed tense at first, when it was just the low-pitched sound of the horsehead fiddle. But as Foxhill added his vibrato-rich voice into the mix, Akula's aquiline eyes widened noticeably.

In fear or in wonder? Jordan supposed he and his party would soon find out. Foxhill of Sandy Quarry, for all his talent, was a finicky musician. The conditions had to be just right to get him in the mood, and it usually took him a few tracks to really get going. Today, maybe because he was playing in front of his bird lady crush, the warm-up seemed to take him even longer than usual. Jordan waited patiently, even as he remained alert to Akula's response.

He waited patiently, all the while listening out for his cue to join in. And then, there it was. An instrument-heavy piece at a lively moderato. Perfect tempo for a cheeky freestyle. As Jordan worked up his courage to join in, however, Canyon beat him to the punch. Pulled the scarf down, sucked in a lungful of windy air, then the Chronicler was off to the races. A floating soprano, like Enya humming in between her verses.

It combined seamlessly with Foxhill's upbeat fiddling, causing Akula to make a half-turn in the air—the Garuda's biggest reaction yet. Jordan could sympathize. A beautiful song, one he could've stood and listened to forever. But the song was also lyricless. Deliberately so. Waiting for a certain freestyler to jump in with the finishing touches. Akula was visibly moved, but she'd yet to cross the threshold. She needed that final push, and the party needed Jordan to provide it.

Yet, when it came time for him to do just that, he froze. He got stage fright. Why me? He asked himself. Why is it up to me? Why do I get to be the one to stand on the biggest stage and deliver the final message? I'm a failed Earthling. Can't cast any spells. I'm nothing special compared to the people around me—here, there, or anywhere—and yet… here I am, acting as if I've got what it takes to work a miracle? Why? Why me? Why not anyone but me? Constitution DC 16: success Xihe:"Because you're here, earthborn.

Not by some miracle, but through your choices and your actions. However you choose to act here and now, you need but to be true to one thing and one thing only." You'll yet see the shape of the world, Jordan Yu, but should you ever be lost and rudderless, remember to look within. Jordan stood tall. He placed one hand on his chest in lieu of a mic. The other hand he waved in time with the music.

Finally, when the conditions were just right, the finicky freestyler belted out a verse for the ages—ripped straight from his heart and nowhere else. Yeah … Yeah… Here we go, here we are… At the edge of the world, knocking on the Tempest Gate Some might call it luck, others will claim it's fate But I know it ain't as simple as a four-letter word Don't trust me?

I'll spell it out if ya haven't heard From Copper Hill to the city, on the hour of the Pig Gym Rats to the Eye of the Tiger, we made it big Heavenly Ascension, from zero cc to 50k Blood sweat tears, let that dawg out to play I stood and delivered, I called the shots I rolled the dice but never lost the plot That's why I'm here, Akula, facing down the storm Whipped me into a [Frenzy], ready to perform Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

You [Howl] a good game, but have you got the juice? The [Void]'s callin', my answer's yes, now over to you! When words failed, let music do the talking. Well, Jordan's brand of music involved a lot of words, some made even more gibberish by his turning them into music. But the words, even the gibberish ones, were him. His journey, his essence, chronicled and expressed in the only way he knew how. You don't need to understand the words, his music said to the spiritkind listener.

I just need you to feel me, ya feel me? And once you do, maybe … just maybe, you'll want to open yourself up too. Foxhill fiddled. Canyon hummed. Jordan waved and swayed in time with the music. And he waited. Patiently. Because his turn had finished, and now, the buck had passed to Garuda Akula. She seemed tense at first, perhaps made even more so by the barrage of human gibberish. But as the song crescendoed to its final flourish… GARUDA AKULA cast: Howling Tempest. Akula opened her beak wide and shrieked.

With it, the storm picked up in an instant. From bracing valley winds into a full-blown tornado, with the Garuda and her rippling feathers at its epicenter. But where once Jordan might have heard anger in the shriek, he instead heard the answer to a call, given in the only awkward way Akula knew how. Where once he might have taken the tornado as the deadly manifestation of a powerful yet tortured soul, he now recognized it for what it was. An invitation.

Beside him, his party members abandoned their music to instead ready for a fight. Foxhill unslung his bow, while Canyon unfurled a length of rope. A completely normal reaction, and even Jordan himself was tempted to reach for his [Spear]. But he fought against the instinct, instead spreading his arms wide to hold his party back.

"I think the jig is up, Mister!" Foxhill cautioned, sounding somewhat deflated even as he did.

"You did your best, and I appreciate it… but some things just aren't meant to be."

"I wouldn't be so sure just yet," Jordan pushed back, as stubborn as anyone once he set his mind to something.

"Look!" Jordan pointed at his Vessel atop the wheelbarrow, which now shuddered and clattered against its bindings, as if pulled by an invisible force. He then glanced over at scarfless Canyon, who nodded her understanding. CANYON of AMBER LAKE cast: Manipulate Ropes. The [Copied] spell was used to undo the ropes that had held the Heavenly Cauldron in place. And just as soon as it was freed from its bindings, the cauldron floated up into the air— all 496 lbs of it! Jordan's Vessel rose inch by inch.

It was slowly but surely being sucked toward Garuda Akula—into her tornado-borne orbit, as it were. Very soon, it would be beyond Jordan's reach, and he'd be facing down a storm with two cauldrons bouncing around in its midst. He couldn't have that. Couldn't relinquish his Vessel. Couldn't play a game where the rules were so lopsided. No, he had to do something about it now. [Cross the Void] and close the gap. That was when he saw it. A pink flash from somewhere inside the raging tornado.

A rosy iridescence against a winged shadow of verdant green. It was the signal he'd been waiting for. The gate was here. And now, it was up to the Gatekeeper to decide. Closed… or open?

"Guys!" Jordan turned to his companions for a final confirmation. The winds were so strong now, he could barely hear himself shout. He could barely suck in enough air to belt out his next words, but still, he had to know, "Do you trust me?"

"With my life, Jordan Yu."

"Er… I wouldn't go that far, Mister, but yeah, I'm starting to see how all this craziness might just be your domain." And at this crucial moment, Jordan was very nearly thrown off the scent. He'd expected both answers to be in the affirmative, but still, he was genuinely shocked by the intensity of Canyon's words—and distracted by their implications. Charisma DC 10: success N üwa: "I swear to you, lordlet. If you let your lovesick meanderings derail this mission, I will never speak to you again." Duly noted.

The lordlet forced himself back to earth. He then held out both hands, one for each party member. They took them without hesitation. Foxhill's hand was coarse and callused, Canyon's soft and startlingly warm. Holding tight to both of his trusted companions, Jordan squared up anew to face the storm. Right now, he wore the pants of the party, by simple virtue of his being crazy enough to try the unthinkable. And so, he gave his first and final command as the leader of their impromptu band." Jump!"

Jordan did, and his friends followed. Off the cliff and into the tornado. For at least one terrifying second, they were in freefall, held by nothing but their irrational disregard for the laws of physics. Yet, the next, they found themselves hovering, their momentum arrested by a force greater than gravity. Then, from hovering, they went to rising, inch by inch… until they were level with the Heavenly Cauldron. Jordan had stopped breathing—the air sucked out of his lungs.

He suspected that to be the case for his friends too, but it was nothing for them to fear. For even as the air had gone out of them, the sky around them had kept them buoyant. From there, it was a matter of 'synchronized swimming'. The trio kicked and flailed frantically, propelling themselves through the air and closer to the floating, glowing cauldron. Then, as soon as they were within touching distance of the rosy iridescence… JORDAN YU manifested: Voidcross. He heard it again. A kind of chittering susurrus.

Like a bunch of small animals whispering among themselves. But this time, there was more. This time, he heard the gasps escaping from his companions, their hands still held tight to his. Foxhill's gasp was one of shock and perhaps even fear, Canyon's an expression of childlike wonder. This time, Jordan wasn't alone. And so, it was with the utmost confidence and bubbling excitement that he pushed open the door.