Chapter 71: The Bleeding Path

While Ashara studied the Karath Manuscript under Draven's guidance, Varen and Jak set out to locate and secure as many Bleed formations as possible before Sable's harvesters could drain them.

Coalition intelligence had identified seven Bleeds across the Free Territories—pools of Pulse essence that had broken through the barrier between the being's consciousness and the deeper power beneath. Each one was a strategic asset, a potential weapon, and a ticking bomb.

They started with the closest: a formation in the Thornridge Valley, two days' march from the Academy.

The journey took them through the Bleeding Territories—the region most dramatically affected by the Release, where the landscape itself had been transformed by the being's emergence. Varen had heard reports from surveyors, but seeing it firsthand was something else.

Trees wept crimson sap from wounds that healed and reopened in slow rhythmic cycles. The ground beneath their feet was warm—not from sunlight but from the Pulse's energy radiating upward through soil and stone. Streams ran red with diluted essence, their waters tasting of copper and potential. Even the air was different: thick, humid, carrying a scent that was equal parts metallic and organic, like a forge crossed with a garden.

"This is what the world looked like before we built the buffer," Draven had warned them. "When the Pulse flowed freely, reality itself was saturated with raw potential. Everything grew faster, lived harder, died more spectacularly."

"And killed more people," Jak added, his silver daggers accessible but sheathed. The thief moved through the transformed landscape with the wary alertness of a cat in unfamiliar territory—every sense extended, every shadow evaluated for threat potential.

Varen's blood-sense was nearly useless here. The ambient Pulse energy created so much background noise that detecting individual signatures was like trying to hear a whisper in a thunderstorm. He switched to conventional awareness—eyes, ears, instinct—and found himself uncomfortably dependent on skills he'd neglected in favor of alchemical perception.

"The grimoire's having trouble too," he noted. The book's presence in his mind was muffled, its usually clear voice distorted by the Pulse interference.

*The energy density is extraordinary,* the grimoire managed. *Like trying to think while standing in a waterfall. My connection to the being is attenuated—I can feel it, but communicating clearly is difficult.*

"If the Pulse interference affects the being's connection this much in a Bleed-adjacent area, what happens inside an actual Bleed formation?"

*I don't want to find out.*

---

They found the Thornridge Bleed at the bottom of a valley that looked like it had been carved by a giant's claw.

The formation was larger than the one Serpine had discovered near the Academy—a pool of crystallized Pulse essence thirty feet across, its surface perfectly smooth and mirror-bright, reflecting the red-tinged canopy above in colors that seemed too vivid, too deep, too real. The pool pulsed with a slow, steady rhythm that Varen felt in his bones.

Around the pool, the Bleeding Territory's effects were amplified to extremes. Trees within fifty feet had grown to impossible heights, their trunks thick as buildings, their canopies so dense that the forest floor existed in permanent twilight. Flowers the size of dinner plates bloomed in crimson and black, their petals razor-sharp, their stems pulsing with visible essence channels. Insects the size of small birds hummed between the blooms, their bodies iridescent with Pulse-infused chitin.

And there were bones.

Animal bones, scattered around the pool's perimeter like offerings at a shrine. Deer, wolves, bears—predators and prey alike, drawn to the Bleed by instincts they couldn't control and destroyed by energies their bodies couldn't contain. The bones had transformed: crystallized, semi-transparent, glowing faintly with residual Pulse energy that made them look like sculptures carved from ruby glass.

"Not a place for camping," Jak observed, keeping well back from the pool's edge.

Varen approached more carefully, extending his attenuated blood-sense toward the formation. Up close, the pool's surface wasn't perfectly smooth—it rippled occasionally, concentric circles expanding outward from the center as if something far below was breathing.

*The barrier here is extremely thin,* the being said, its voice faint but focused. *The Pulse is pushing through continuously, like water through a crack in a dam. If this Bleed grows much larger, the barrier will fail completely at this point.*

"Can you seal it?"

*Not from this distance. Not with the interference levels this high. I would need to concentrate my consciousness here specifically, which would mean withdrawing it from other locations.*

"Leaving those locations unprotected."

*Exactly. It's a triage problem. I can protect some points or weakly protect all points, but I can't do both.*

Varen studied the pool, calculating. Sable's harvesters would want this formation—it was the largest he'd seen, containing enough Pulse essence to supply their manufacturing operation for weeks. If the Academy could secure it first...

"We don't seal it," he said. "We guard it. Set up a permanent outpost with practitioners trained in Pulse interaction—from the Karath techniques—and use the Bleed as both a strategic resource and a training ground."

"Training ground?" Jak looked dubious. "You want to bring students here? To a place where the laws of nature have been rewritten and everything that approaches dies?"

"The dying is because nothing approaching has been trained to handle the energy. With proper preparation—Pulse meditation, grounding techniques, the kind of interaction Ashara's learning—practitioners can work near Bleeds safely." He paused. "Probably."

"Probably. That's reassuring."

"It's honest. Everything we're doing is 'probably.' The whole situation is 'probably.' We work with what we have."

---

They spent two days at the Thornridge Bleed, mapping the formation, measuring energy output, and establishing the infrastructure for a permanent monitoring station. Jak's practical skills proved invaluable—he designed observation posts that provided clear sightlines while keeping sentries at safe distances from the pool.

On the second night, they discovered they weren't alone.

Jak heard them first—the faintest rustle of movement in the undergrowth, audible only because his senses were tuned to detect exactly that kind of near-silent approach.

"Three signatures," he whispered, sliding his daggers free. "Moving from the south. Professional formation—scout, flanker, point."

"Harvesters?"

"Unknown. But whoever they are, they know the terrain. They're navigating the Pulse effects without hesitation."

Varen positioned himself between the pool and the approaching figures. His blood alchemy was still attenuated by the ambient energy, but he had enough connection to the being to form basic defensive constructs.

The figures emerged from the tree line.

Not harvesters. Three women, dressed in clothing that blended with the Bleeding Territory's crimson-tinged vegetation. Two were young—mid-twenties—with the lean, weathered look of people who lived in the wild. The third was older, gray-haired, with eyes that glowed faintly red in the forest twilight.

All three were blood alchemists. And all three were connected to the Pulse.

"You're from the Academy," the older woman said. Her voice was calm, measuring. "Varen Kross. We've heard of you."

"Advantage yours. Who are you?"

"My name is Ferra. These are my daughters, Rin and Sala." She gestured to the two younger women, who watched Varen with identical expressions of wary curiosity. "We've lived in the Bleeding Territories since the Release. When the transformation happened, we didn't flee like the others. We adapted."

"Adapted how?"

"The same way your friend Ashara did—except we had each other to learn from, not a formal Academy." Ferra moved toward the pool with the easy confidence of someone approaching a familiar landmark. "The Pulse woke up something in our blood. All three of us. We've been learning to work with it ever since."

"You're Naturals? All three?"

"We were ordinary before the Release. The transformation triggered something dormant." Ferra knelt beside the pool, trailing her fingers through the surface—an action that would have been suicidal for a being-connected practitioner. The Pulse essence rippled around her hand like affectionate water. "We've been watching the Bleed for months. Protecting it from the masked ones who come to harvest."

"The masked ones—Sable's harvesters?"

"They've tried three times to extract from this pool. We've stopped them each time." Rin spoke for the first time, her voice harder than her mother's. "They don't come back easily after we're done with them."

"How many Pulse-connected people are there? In the Bleeding Territories?"

Ferra stood, wiping Pulse essence from her hand as casually as one might wipe away water. "More than you'd think. The Release awakened dozens in this region alone—people who had dormant Pulse sensitivity, triggered by the being's emergence. Most didn't survive the initial awakening. Those who did either fled or learned to live with what they'd become."

"How many survived?"

"In the Bleeding Territories? Perhaps forty. Scattered across the region, living alone or in small groups. Most have no formal training—they've developed their own techniques through trial and error."

Forty Pulse-connected practitioners. Untrained, uncoordinated, but possessing abilities that the Academy desperately needed to understand and cultivate.

"Come to the Academy," Varen said. "Bring whoever's willing. We have a practitioner studying ancient Pulse interaction techniques—training protocols designed specifically for what you're experiencing."

Ferra studied him for a long moment. "The Academy teaches the Pure Path. We've heard the philosophy. It's well-intentioned, but it's designed for practitioners connected to the being's consciousness. We're connected to something different."

"The Pure Path was originally designed for Pulse interaction. The being's consciousness was built on top of it later. What you've been figuring out through trial and error—we have the original manual."

Something shifted in Ferra's expression—the cautious hope of someone who had spent months struggling alone and was being offered help for the first time.

"We'll consider it. But the Bleed needs guardians regardless. If we come to the Academy, someone has to protect this pool from the harvesters."

"That's why we're establishing a permanent outpost. Your knowledge of the terrain and the Pulse effects would be invaluable."

"A partnership, then. Not enrollment."

"A partnership. The Academy isn't just a school anymore—it's becoming a coalition of everyone who wants to survive what's coming."

Ferra nodded slowly, then extended a hand that still glistened faintly with Pulse essence.

Varen took it. The contact sent a shock through his blood-sense—Ferra's Pulse connection resonating against his being-connected essence like two tuning forks struck simultaneously. For an instant, he felt both streams: the being's vast consciousness and the Pulse's primordial current, separated by a barrier that hummed with the strain of holding them apart.

"Welcome to the war," Ferra said, her smile carrying no warmth.

"Welcome to the Academy," Varen replied. "Such as it is."

*Thornridge Bleed: MAPPED AND MONITORING ESTABLISHED*

*New Allies: FERRA, RIN, SALA — PULSE-CONNECTED NATURALS*

*Estimated Pulse-Connected Population: 40+ IN BLEEDING TERRITORIES*

*Status: COALITION EXPANDING*

---